by Raven Dark
Diamond, Emmy, and I helped Marna and the others into the back of the transports before Striker and Utar jumped in last. We shared a few more hugs, and then the doors to both vehicles closed. Diamond jumped on the back of Doc’s bike, giving him a long kiss on the lips, and Emmy got on with T-Man.
“Come ride with me, Petal.” Steel took my leash from Crash, pulled me onto his bike, jumped on his throttle. I put my arms around his waist as he settled on his seat.
“With pleasure, Master.” I snuggled into him, my cheek against his warm back.
With my head to the side, I watched the Rebels pull out with waves of farewell and calls of good luck and safe travels.
A mix of bittersweet emotions swirled through me, and I tightened one arm around Steel, waving back.
My eyes watered as bike engines roared to life and men hooted and hollered, glad to be on the road again.
Danger would await us out there in the world, but we had friends out there, too, friends I knew wouldn’t hesitate to come to our aid if the need arose.
The world would change, Marna had said. I wasn’t the hero she believed me to be, but I had no doubt the winds of change were coming. It was just a question of which way they would blow, and what the world would look like when those winds came.
The Legion rode away from the camp, deep into the woods, quickly leaving the Rebels, now a changed people, to go their own way.
What tomorrow would bring, I had no idea, but I knew I’d never forget the people who called us friends, nor the women who saw me as more than I was ever meant to be.
Chapter 10
Maker’s Rain
We rode for seven hours straight.
As with every other long stretch of travel since we’d left the Grotto, the landscape had changed repeatedly, though not as drastically as before. Where the desert of the Grotto had given way to thick forest, over the next seven hours, everything stayed lush. Under rays of silver moonlight, forest gave way to rolling hills, which in turn, gave way to rocky cliffs in a vast sea of emerald green.
Since we rode under the cover of darkness, few people crossed our path, outside the occasional row of motorbikes. We headed due north, ever north, and those who passed us gave the Legion a wide berth.
Just as when we’d ridden out of the Grotto, the men wore black cloth masks over the lower halves of their faces, helmet visors covering their eyes.
Riding in the lead, Sheriff wore his long, armored glove that covered his hand in scales, his spiked shoulder armor, and that metallic mask that covered half his face, giving him an appearance that was both frightening and hot. Twin swords jutted from the crossed scabbards on Hawk’s back, and one sword stuck up over Pretty Boy’s shoulder.
Behind Doc and T-Man, Emmy and Diamond were in full road rat garb, knee-high leather boots, leather skirts and crop tops with gleaming metal belts about their waists. I alone wore a slave’s white frock, and a leash that tethered me to one of my men at all times. The reminder of my status hurt a little, but it also made me wet.
The weather grew cooler the further north we traveled but without becoming what I would call cold. I couldn’t help feeling grateful for the extra clothing Hawk and Sheriff had given me. The panties and leathers keeping my backside warm against the increasingly cool leather bike seat.
Our first stop was for fuel and a few supplies at a station more than six hour’s ride from the next campsite. Dawn came early these days; by the time we pulled up at the station at five in the morning, the sky already held a hint of blue-grey. The temperature rose a few degrees, enough to be neither too cold, nor too hot.
Over the hour the bikes were being refueled, everyone stretched and ate breakfast, and I took Steel on a short walk around the area.
I rode for the next three hours with Pretty Boy. With that sheathed sword worn slanted on his back, I leaned with my cheek pressed to the shoulder opposite. Arms wrapped around him, taking all the warmth from him I could. I couldn’t help feeling exhilarated by the familiar feel of an engine purring between my legs, the warmth of my master’s body, the whip of the wind in my hair. Not to mention, the unfamiliar caress of the northern air on my face.
I’d spent my life surrounded by scorching desert and sand, so the bite of cool air felt refreshing and new.
As we rode, crews wearing MC patches passed us, giving startled looks when they saw the skull and crossbones displayed on the Legion’s backs.
Apparently, even this far up north, the Dark Legion’s reputation for piracy preceded itself.
Piracy, or were they known for much worse? It occurred to me I really didn’t know the full extent of the reason other crews feared them. Some legends made them sound like monsters, ones who raided towns and took what they wanted without regard for the lives they destroyed.
It bothered me that I felt safe with them, protected. Fearful though other crews were of us, it reassured me—more than it probably should have—to know I was with men who knew how to protect me and would do so to the death. Over time, I’d found it easy to forget what these men were, but the looks they got from those who saw us sent that knowledge careening back on me full force.
My masters were harsh men, deadly, and I knew they could even be cruel. They wouldn’t always give me what I wanted, but they would give me what I needed, even if I didn’t know I needed it.
With four hours left to go until the next campsite, Sheriff signaled for the crew to pull over to the side of the old, half-overgrown road. He gave the men twenty minutes so that Crash could stretch his leg and Steel could walk around for a bit.
Hawk took his double scabbard off and tied the weapons to the back of his bike. Even with his build, they had to get heavy after hours of riding.
“Steel.” Doc came over to him, behind me and Pretty Boy. In his hand was a mug filled with what looked like green sludge. He’d given him the same thing earlier at breakfast. “Take this.” He stirred the concoction and handed the mug to Steel.
“This foul green slop again?” Steel rumbled in irritation and wrinkled his nose at it. “It smells like dirty feet, Doc.”
“It’s a protein shake with a powdered kale vitamin supplement I brought from home. You can’t eat solid food, and that means you need the energy boost. You won’t die.”
“Quit your bitching and drink it, Steel.” Sheriff glared over his shoulder at him before he took a chomp out of an apple. “I don’t need you wiping out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Emmy and Diamond giggled behind their hands. So did I.
“Yeah, Steel. If you want to complain that much, we can arrange to have you sit behind Crash, on a bitch’s seat,” Pretty Boy teased him.
Steel punched Pretty Boy on the arm, hard enough to make him wince, chugged Doc’s protein drink down in one gulp, then shuddered with disgust.
Everyone had a bite to eat, a drink of water, and a stretch before we were ready to mount up again. Hawk pulled me toward his bike, where I’d ride until we set up camp.
“May I relieve myself before we leave, Master?”
Hawk nodded, letting Sheriff know he’d take me, then led me over to a copse of trees by my leash.
“You didn’t have to trouble yourself to take me here for this, Master,” I said, looking irritably at the leash.
“Yes, I do.” He kept my leash on his wrist, standing over me with his arms crossed, face stoic as I did my business. “You heard the General. You’re tethered to one of us at all times.”
I resisted a roll of my eyes. The leash was more than long enough for him to walk a few feet away while I relieved myself, but he didn’t even turn his back.
Apparently, along with not being allowed to wear a road rat’s full leathers and always being leashed, privacy was another luxury I’d lost because of my missteps.
“Well, I don’t want to keep the others waiting.” Once I was done, I hurried and pulled up my panties and pants, straightening my frock, unwilling to risk annoying Sheriff. He’d mentioned he wanted to be at the next campsite by the noon hour
, and he always seemed to get ornery with delays.
“Not so fast.” Hawk’s eyes burned with hunger. He pushed me slowly back against the trunk of a tree, his big palm on my chest. If his expression had been stony before, it wasn’t now.
My breath caught, feeling the need burning off of him like fire. His eyes locked on mine, amber flames.
“Right here, Master?”
He hummed in his throat and pinned me between the tree and his body. “Are you sore from riding, Kitten?”
“A little, Master.” But as usual, I had a feeling he could make me forget about my discomfort in no time. “If you need…” I trailed off, wetting my dry lips.
Hawk bit my ear. “Is that the only reason you’re giving yourself to me?” he purred. “Because your master wants you?”
I bit my lip to keep from groaning. “I live to serve, Master.”
He rumbled and lifted the skirt of my frock. His unfastened my belt, letting it drop the forest floor, and worked open the button-up front of my pants, then slipped his fingers inside. I panted, rocking my hips into him. His fingers quickly became slick with my need.
“Spread your legs.”
His gruff order made my knees grow weak. I opened for him and thrust my hips toward him eagerly as his fingers slid into me. His thumb played with my clit until my legs turned to jelly.
Hawk removed his fingers, whirled me so that my back was to him, shoved his fingers into my mouth, and ground himself into my ass. I gripped the tree, bending forward at the waist to give him access. Letting him push my feet apart with his.
“Hawk,” Sheriff shouted over. “Get your cock out of her mouth. It’s time to go.”
Hawk hummed into my neck. He pulled the front of my frock down and palmed my breasts, tweaking my nipple while his other hand undid his pants. I closed my eyes, loving the battle-roughened feel of his palms on my skin, the heat of his lips on my neck.
“The others are waiting, Master.”
“Let them wait.” He jerked my pants and underwear down past my knees, then ran the head of his cock between my bare ass cheeks. I mewled as his cock head teased my aching core. “I’ve been dying to fuck you since that fight with Pretty Boy.”
“Hawk! Move it!”
“Sheriff’s getting annoyed,” I panted.
“He’ll get over it.” Hawk gripped my hair in his fist and slid into me.
Some rebellious part of me loved that he pushed the limits of his rank to have me. I rocked into him, closing my eyes. “Yes, oh, Master…”
He slid in and out of me, slow and hot at first, his grip on my hair hard enough to sting, his other hand clamped on my hip, controlling my movements.
“You’ll be sore when you get back on my bike,” he rasped. “Now you can think of me every time we hit the slightest bump all the way to camp.”
I groaned and clawed at the rough bark of the tree while he sped up, fucking me harder, faster. Instinct had me swallowing my cries at the orgasm that threatened to tear me apart.
“Go ahead. Scream,” Hawk purred. His fingers slid down my front, circling my clit and sending my need so high that keeping silent was impossible. “Scream and let everyone hear you getting fucked.”
I bucked and writhed, milking his cock and panting wildly. Still holding back. Hawk’s palm came down on my ass, a loud crack the entire zone could have heard, and the sting made me explode with release until I cried out.
Hawk groaned in triumph and bent down to take my mouth, licking hungrily. He broke the kiss and thrust savagely, then cursed in release while I came apart again.
“Good girl. Love the sound of you coming for me.”
As if the others didn’t already know what he’d been doing to me, Hawk helped me dress again and carried me back to the bikes. He gave me no time to fix my hair, rumpled from his hands. Everyone watched us with knowing looks, the men whooping and whistling at Hawk.
As soon as Hawk set me down, Sheriff grabbed my leash. “You two want to make us late, she can ride with me.” He pulled me over to his ride.
Hawk climbed on his bike, and Sheriff pulled me onto his. I couldn’t resist a playful need to stick my tongue out at Hawk, watching him mount up alone. Then I noticed that he did so without a single change in his expression—nothing to suggest he was bothered by Sheriff taking me from him.
“Slave,” Sheriff drawled. “If you don’t put that tongue back in your mouth, I’ll find a better use for it.”
I barely suppressed a groan.
We stopped at the next camp, arriving a little after the noon hour, with the sky an overcast, but beautiful opaline grey. The area Sheriff had chosen was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. Rolling hills sloped downward, a river cutting between them, winding like a long, ever moving white snake.
According to Pretty Boy, the river cut through the southern tail of Zone 10, still a long way from Zone Delta. Thus its surprisingly unexciting name, South End.
Everyone dismounted and began to unpack supplies. Sheriff lifted me off his bike, and I winced at the soreness between my legs caused by the long ride and Hawk’s rough possession earlier.
Three of my masters had taken me in less than two days, Sheriff twice, none of them gentle. I loved it, but the soreness I could have done without.
Hawk came up behind me and cupped my ass with his palm. “Sore, Kitten?”
“Yes, Master,” I sighed, turning to him.
“Whose fault is that, hmm?” His eyes said he was teasing, taking some of the threat out of his words. “Pulling your pants down in front of me like that, you deserve what you get.”
My cheeks flamed. Would these men ever stop driving me wild?
“If you two are done?” Sheriff griped at us, kicking open the supply compartments and then addressing the group at large. “You men know the drill. One of you on watch at all times, four-hour shifts. Minimal supplies only. We’re only here for the rest of the day. Six hours of sleep instead of three because Steel needs his beauty sleep.”
Everyone roared with laughter, except Steel, who gave Sheriff his middle finger.
Sometimes, watching the General with his men, seeing how playful he could be, it was difficult not to feel my heart melting for him. Most of the time, he seemed separate from them, keeping the obligatory distance of a leader and yet every bit the same as one of them, a Brother playing right along with his best friends. It made it so much harder to know how to behave around him.
“Sheriff picked a great spot,” Emmy said while Diamond and I helped carry food down to where Pretty Boy was setting up for a fire near the river’s edge. “This place is about as secure as secure gets.”
“How so?” I asked, setting a food crate down by the fire pit and looking around at the high hills.
“There are no towns near here or roads. Being along side the river, it’s dangerous getting down here on almost any kind of transportation.”
I nodded, taking in the gorgeous landscape. The hills had only thin, ill-used trails leading down to the shore, not impossible to use on a bike, but we’d had to be careful getting down. We were miles from Dreg territory and wouldn’t be back on the routes used by them for hours more.
Over the next thirty minutes, we set up for dinner. Crash had a stew cooking over a blissfully warm fire. A couple of good-sized caves we found would provide nice shelter from any wind that might hit us in this ravine.
I passed out bowls of stew and a strained bowl of broth for a grumpy Steel, then settled between Hawk’s knees to eat, my leash around his wrist.
We were just finishing up eating when I felt a few cold drops on my bare shoulder.
“What…?” Seated on a bolder like the others, I looked up, holding out my hand. Another drop chilled my palm.
An instant later, water poured down in a curtain of rain. It was as if the skies had opened up and the Maker had spilled a river down on us all at once.
“Fuck me,” Sheriff barked. He leaped to his feet along with everyone else and put his cut
over his head to cover himself. Crash slapped a lid over the stew and ran toward the nearest cave.
While everyone else was packing up the supplies in a frenzy, I held out my hands, letting the rain pelt down on my bared shoulders and arms, reveling in the unfamiliar feel of the chilly torrent on my desert-bathed skin. The rain instantly plastered my hair to my head and my frock to my back, soaking it through.
“Of course. We stop and it rains,” Pretty Boy shouted over the downpour. He ran after the others. “Now I remember why I hate this place.”
“Never seen rain before, Kitten?” Hawk asked. He stood up, in no hurry, watching me twirl and dance.
“No, Master. It’s wonderful!” I laughed with delight.
Even when I was a little girl, living with my parents before my father had died and my mother and brother had been taken, I’d always lived in a desert climate, nothing much warmer than Damien’s Hell’s Burning. It never rained, not a drop anywhere I’ve lived. My masters had often told me it rarely rained even in the Grotto—a phenomenal wonder in itself—no less than once a year.
“Come on, get inside with us before you catch your death.” Sheriff took the leash from Hawk, grabbed my hand, and ran with me after Pretty Boy, Hawk bringing up the rear.
T-Man and the others dropped the supplies in a cave opening and then hurried out to bring the bikes into shelter.
Deep in the cave, Hawk started a fire with what little dry wood we’d found under an out-cropping. There was more than enough room in two caves side by side for us to bunk down.
While the others gathered around the fireside drying off, I sat as close to the cave entrance as the leash would allow, watching the sheets of rain come down, smelling its sweet fragrance. Sheriff had the other end of the leash, but he didn’t call me back.
Lightning split the stormy sky, streaking through the huge grey thunderheads. I could have sat here and watched the rain pound down all day. The cave even had an outcropping above the entrance that kept the rain from blowing in. Down below, the river rushed over the rocks, a calming, soothing sound.
