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Demons (Death by Reaper MC, #3)

Page 6

by Esther E. Schmidt


  Nothing is one hundred percent but if I had to trust one damn person on this fucking earth it would be her.

  I give the both of them a respectable nod to let them know I appreciate both their words, but I have more important things to deal with. I teleport from this room to my own to find it empty. Light is shining underneath the door of the bathroom and I debate disturbing her shower but in this I have to think about her. Meaning if I would intrude in her personal space, I’ll be the selfish one.

  Standing here debating on what to do is killing me. I want to hold her, tell her...no, show her how much she means to me. I’ve never been an us; a fucking partnership. I’ve always been one damn person against everything. My brother and I might have led this MC once, before he was cursed, but that’s different.

  The way this woman has managed to crawl underneath my skin and has rooted deep inside my heart has twisted things around. I would end my life if it would save hers. Never in my whole damn existence has anything meant more. Anger courses through me and I know I have to contain myself because the floor underneath my feet is shaking.

  The door to the bathroom opens and Tria’s head pops up behind it. “Could you maybe not make everything shake? I don’t think the tiles will hold much longer if you keep all that pumped up anger inside you. And you can’t let it out either so stop building it up.”

  “I know,” I tell her through clenched teeth, hating myself even more.

  Shit. How the hell is this ever going to work between us?

  Chapter Eight

  ***Tria***

  “Even if I’m immortal, I’m not signing up to get sliced and diced by a rain of burst tiles because you’re bottling up all that anger,” I sigh and close the door.

  I want to finish my shower and crawl into bed. Maybe read a book or watch some TV to get my mind off things. Things like Vike and the struggle he’s in along with the weight of a thousand worlds pressing on his shoulders. I know it’s not easy being him and I don’t even blame the guy for having trust issues. Like I said; I’m pooped and need some me time.

  But now my shower moment is interrupted and I don’t feel like finding comfort in the hot water, so I shut it down and wrap my body in a soft fluffy towel. I make sure to grab another towel to dry my hair before I throw both into the hamper.

  Stalking into the bedroom I notice Vike is still standing in the same spot. His eyes are closed and I can feel the energy vibrating around him. He’s tense and is grasping for control. I hate he’s going through everything and even more how he’s fighting to keep himself in check.

  I would be insane not to feel hurt by the words his brother said. About Vike not trusting anyone, not even me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand. Hell, I understand plenty and it would shock me if he would just naturally hand over his heart and life for me to grab hold. Now that would be insane.

  Eternal mates or not, bond in place or not; a relationship works both ways and takes effort to maintain. Nothing in life is easy or gets thrown in your path without consequences. But you open your eyes to see what you’re facing. Brace, take a breath and move forward to find your way and the benefits life gives you. And that’s what Vike is doing right now; he’s bracing himself.

  I slide between the sheets while my gaze stays locked on Vike. In this fragment of time I feel as if everything is at a standstill. You look at the mess of things and don’t know heads from tails and all you want is for it to be behind you. That’s where I am right now and I’m sick of it.

  “Come here,” I snap, making his eyes open and land on mine. “Get naked and get in bed with me. I’m damn cold and I want to be held.”

  Oh, wow. Kinda drastic, clingy, girly statement but come on...he’s a big Demon, handsome, inked, muscled, protective, an asshole at times, but he’s all mine and like I said; I want this stuff behind me to be able to move forward.

  Solving issues can happen in lots of ways. Talk things through, get help or just leave and move forward to either have it solved at a different point in time or have time put things into perspective and let them settle in your brain.

  “What?” he croaks, as if he can’t believe what I just said.

  I smirk and repeat the most important detail, “Get naked.”

  He swallows and says hoarsely, “I understood that part.”

  I don’t say anything else but pat the mattress next to me. His clothes hit the floor and he crawls between the sheets and pulls me close. The both of us sigh in contentment and even if we’re both naked—our bodies flush against one another—there’s nothing sexual about this moment. Instead there’s only intimacy and comfort. Two things we need and obtain from one another.

  It’s in this we find serenity and drift off to sleep. I wake up thirsty and manage to slide out of bed. And let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it sounds when there’s a massive arm draped over you. I tiptoe out of the room after I’ve thrown on a silky yellow jumpsuit.

  I hear voices coming from the kitchen and when I step inside, I vaguely notice seven guys around the kitchen table. The only thing on my mind is getting a bottle of water from the refrigerator so I stalk straight ahead, dive in, open the bottle and down half.

  Releasing a deep sigh of success, I close the bottle and it’s then that I glance around the room. My throat is now dry as the desert because I’m looking at seven pairs of green eyes. Not just green eyes, green eyes either. Nope. The sclera is bright green and can only indicate one thing. All of them are working for Vapula.

  I succeed to keep my cool and pop the cap of the bottle I’m holding to down the other half before tossing it in the recycle bin. “You guys mind if I grab two more bottles?” I ask casually and not even wait for an answer when I open the refrigerator again to take out the two bottles I referred to.

  “Prez keep you panting for more there, sexy? Throat all dry because of it?” a guy I remember Vike calling Tavas says.

  I flash my teeth and hold up both bottles. “You know it.”

  And that’s my cue to head out of there. Holy shit this is bad. I almost bump into Pharrell and when I step back and glance at him...there’s a second of self-hate running through me when I see his sclera is bright green too. Why did I think this was such a good idea? And seriously, did it backfire or is everyone working with Vapula?

  “Let the lady through, Pharrell,” a voice from behind Pharrell states.

  Pharrell sidesteps and I look into normal eyes.

  “Up yours, Hutton,” Pharrell snaps, lowering his voice and muttering underneath his breath, “I thought the fucker had better things to do than to interfere with my fucking business,” as he barges away from us and into the kitchen.

  Go play with your Demon friends while you still can, my mind offers but my heart is beating out of control.

  I turn my attention to Hutton. “Thanks, appreciate it,” I tell him honestly, though the guy still gives me the creeps.

  The guy with the curly dark hair shoots me a wolfish grin that has me doubting my kind words as he gives me a nod and heads for the kitchen too. Everything in me wants to prevent Hutton from going into the kitchen but I can’t say or do anything. This is up to Vike to handle...but it’s bad. It’s horrible.

  I honestly thought there would be one or two but from the nine bikers I met while getting something to drink, eight of them were tagged green, showing the fact they’re working with Vapula. Eight!

  With lead in my feet I slowly reach our room. I lock the door behind me and lean back against it. I angle my face toward the ceiling to close my eyes and take a moment to process what just happened.

  “What’s wrong?” Vike’s groggy voice fills the room.

  His question makes me snort before I groan, “Where do I start? Got a pen and a roll of toilet paper? Because I think the list is going to be that freaking long.”

  He’s cupping my face the next instant, worry spreading his face when I connect our gaze. Even if he hesitated for a moment when his brother accused him of trusting no one—not ev
en me—I know this man would do anything to protect me.

  It’s staring right back at me when I look into the depth of his soul shown clearly through his eyes. There’s complete adoration, there’s fear for me being hurt, there’s everything I ever loved and cared for and it’s enough to give me the strength to give him everything in return.

  I lean into his touch. “You have more than a big problem on your hands and it’s not just Vapula.”

  “What happened? Tell me,” he demands.

  “I went to get some water from the kitchen and passed nine bikers along the way. Eight of those had a green tag. Eight, Vike. And those were the only ones I passed, who knows how many more work with Vapula. It makes no sense.” Anger almost overtakes me because this is all screwed up.

  When there are so many rats on the inside it makes you think of a reason why they haven’t killed Vike yet and took over. I mean...wouldn’t it be easier than to lay low? It doesn’t make any sense unless they have bigger things they are waiting on. Realizing this is starting to freak me out even more.

  Vike steps back, grabs a pair of black sweatpants and puts them on. “Who did you see?”

  I start to relay the names of those I know and describe the others.

  “Right,” Vike mutters as he paces the room like a caged lion about to break free. “They were all in the kitchen...at this time of night...yeah. Makes no sense, eh? Well, it makes perfect fucking sense if all others are in their fucking rooms as they should be.”

  Well, damn. When you put it like that, it does make sense. “Do you think they were having some kind of meeting? But Hutton didn’t have a green tag and he went into the kitchen too.”

  “I’m still trying to figure that one out but think about it. Maybe they want to bring him in on things or are recruiting others one by one, who fucking knows. I can’t go out there now. I have to wait till morning to see for myself if it’s just those eight or if there are more.”

  He’s right. Vike can’t go into the kitchen to face those guys now. Dammit, this is freaking frustrating. “I should have twisted my magic and not just tagged but knocked them out along with it.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Vike sighs. “You know damn well it might have affected Gunnar in a whole different way and not to mention it wouldn’t go unnoticed if bikers would drop like flies around each other. You did good, Tria. Don’t ever think you’re less or push yourself into a corner you’re not supposed to be in. You tagging the fuckers who are tainted is perfect. Knowing your enemy gives us an advantage. This way we can plan against them to bring Vapula out of his hiding space and end this thing once and for all. We need help, though. And this means you have to blink to get to your sisters unnoticed and get a message across.”

  “Let me know what you need me to do,” I tell him in all fierceness.

  I’m willing to do anything he asks me to do, even if he’d go into the kitchen and face those eight rats all by himself, I would fight right alongside of him.

  “I don’t know if those eight are the only ones or if there are more. Lower level Demons don’t stand a chance against an upper level Demon like myself unless there are more than I can handle. Then I might need some help in killing all of them or they would have the upper hand. Besides, I’d like to catch one or two and torture them to get some answers. While you give the message to Alastair, Jagger, and your sisters, I’m going to talk to Gunnar and see what plan we can come up with.”

  I nod as I take in his words. There’s a nagging feeling deep down in my gut and I’m not liking the glint in Vike’s eyes but it might be the whole ‘fucking hell I didn’t expect so many rats’ vibe I got shocked with too. For now, I need to focus and get the message to my sisters. I’m glad and at the same time proud Vike is stepping up to accept their help.

  Vike whispers the message I need to tell Alastair into my ear before placing sweet kisses along my jaw. He cups my face, stares intently into my eyes as if he’s mesmerized and needs to take in every little detail to brand it on his brain.

  “I fucking love you,” he croaks as if he doesn’t believe the reality of this moment.

  The corner of my mouth twitches and I think of something to lighten the mood. “Well, you don’t need to be so shocked about it...I happen to be very lovable.”

  His head tips back and laughter slips out. When our eyes meet again, he’s shaking his head. “You really are something, Tria. If anyone could have ripped out my heart and handed it to me on a silver platter, it would be you.”

  My eyebrows scrunch up. “I don’t know if I need to find that adorable or kinda twisty. ‘Cause handing your heart back on a silver platter doesn’t do me any good, buddy.”

  He kisses me hard and when he pulls back there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You could very well mean the death of me, but I’d gladly accept it if it means only to have loved you for a brief moment. We don’t have full control over the ride life gives us. We only take the driver’s seat, grab the wheel, and dodge as many obstructions thrown in our path. But you? Head on collision or not...I’d do anything to have you survive this ride so there will be an open road in front of you.” He clears his throat while I’m still processing his words. “Now go and tell Alastair where and when I need him.”

  There’s only a flash of black smoke and he’s gone. My mind reeling and my heart sinking. I can’t catch my breath because his words now make sense. He’s going up against Vapula, and the first step is killing all those bikers sitting in the kitchen. All while knowing he won’t be the one coming out alive.

  The legend.

  Fuck. I need to know what it fully entails because I have a creepy feeling it involves losing my eternal mate.

  Chapter Nine

  ***Vike***

  I hate lying to her, I hate shoving her away, I hate everything in this fucking world that prevents me from having a life the way I want it. But deep down I know I’m doing what’s right. My first and foremost—the fucking reason I’m walking this earth—is to protect the people. Humanity. I need to save it at all cost.

  And at all cost for me is losing Tria. Not even my own fucking life, and in a way she is my life. But I’ve just betrayed her by sending her away to face my rat-infested MC head on myself instead of letting her in and facing it together.

  But I can’t risk it, I need to take out those eight she mentioned. If there are more, I will take them out too but having those eight in one place gives me an opportunity to solve the problem at hand. I’m strolling down the hallway and when I get to the kitchen, I step over the threshold and casually lean back, half against the doorjamb, and half against the wall.

  Nine bikers are sitting in silence around the table. I see what Tria mentioned, the tag of green in their eyes. Except for Hutton, his eyes are normal and are solely focused on me. I point my thumb over my shoulder.

  “Hutton, out. I need a word with these guys for a job I need to have done by morning,” I snap.

  All green eyes go to Hutton. His jaw ticks, letting me know he’s anything but happy with what I just told him. I don’t fucking care. I’m the one with the President patch on his damn pecs, he needs to follow my orders.

  “Now, Hutton,” I snap.

  The lower level Demon gets to his feet but braces his hands on the table. He glances around at the other lower level Demons but doesn’t say a word before he pushes himself away from the table to head toward me.

  “Prez.” He nods and slides out of the kitchen.

  I close the door and seal it with a twist of my hand. As I mentioned, these guys are lower level Demons, they hold little strength. Unlike me.

  We basically have the same abilities except for the strength. You might say upper level Demons are the full powered up versions, where a lower level Demon has less than ten percent of my strength, they function more like soldiers and follow orders.

  Doesn’t mean they aren’t a threat to anyone or even to me. If these guys team up and I make a slight mistake it will cost me my head. And the number
of kills also gives a lower level Demon a slight boost. You can see it as some kind of promotion.

  That’s where Vapula obtained his high. He wanted more. Being a lower level Demon in an MC where there’s a ranking system in place that’s indestructible—as me and my brother have—he needed a twist to grasp for full power.

  His mutated ass was all powered up from going on a killing spree when he overtook Gunnar and shoved the liquid down his throat, then started chanting so he could finish the curse.

  I was there and saw how it was a combination of things but I couldn’t do anything about it. Well, other than kill Vapula which I obviously tried but failed because the fucker flashed out of there. Another lesson learned; never underestimate anyone, not even a lower level Demon.

  But for now, I need to focus on a whole kitchen filled with Demons who need to be eliminated. No second fucking chances. Not when it involves working with the one who cursed my brother and who’s dead set on destroying and ruling the world and everyone in it.

  “Guys,” I say, a huge smile on my damn face. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this talk short. I’m all about killing time with my favorite people to hang with...but I’d rather take that time to kill.”

  They all glance at me in confusion of what I just said. Perfect. It’s not until I’ve severed the second head of the guy on my right when they flash up and lunge at me. Their hands have turned blood red. It’s spreading up their forearms in thin ropes, flickering with orange fire as it licks their skin. They’re powering up to shoot fireballs at me which I block at every turn.

  I have my shield in place, one I’ve been able to grow stronger over the years to prevent anything from impact while I’m fighting. It’s crackling with blue energy, like an energy field created by a thin layer of blue flames. But it also takes away some of my strength I need to be able to fight back full force. Though I need both to be able to face all these fuckers at the same time and come out on the winner’s side.

 

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