Demon (The Northern Kings MC #1)

Chapter Thirty One

Ciara

There were motorbikes everywhere. We were wedged in the middle of what must have been one hundred of them, and yet, as we rode over the Tyne Bridge, there were more clusters of bikes. Little pockets of five and six riders, all laden like packhorses: steel pack horses. They weren’t all the deep and guttural Harley Davidsons that we rode with. Some were quieter, more of a purr, or a dull clicking of an engine turning over. And others screamed at the top of their voices, not the deep throatiness of the Harley, but a banshee, an angry, coked up banshee. Racing bikes.

We weaved in and out of the traffic over the Tyne Bridge, purring our way out of Gateshead and skirting Newcastle City Centre, heading more and more north, until the brick and breeze block blurred away and a sea of fields greeted us. I remembered the route from the previous day; windy roads, the tilt of the bike only centimetres from the tarmac as we took corners, barely slowing. And still I closed my eyes, squeezing my arms round Demon, clinging on for fear he’d tip me straight off the side.

The pace was furious. No speed limits were respected and if I’d wanted him to slow down, even my terrified yells would not have been heard over the deafening roar of the bikes. The rally site was already buzzing when we got there, and the once lush green field of almost infinite grass was swamped in tents, the sun shining off the polished chrome and shiny paint of the bikes littered everywhere.

We drove on, in the same formation, joining the sea of leather. Further on, the field broke up into encampments. It looked more like a battle site than a rally. A fag flew from each camp. A burning skull, a dragon rearing up from a plume of fire, a flaming hammer. Every one of them ominous. And then came flags I recognised. An angel and a demon in a passionate embrace, the horned helmet surrounded by Nordic runes, and then the three crowned skulls.

I had barely noticed the procession of noisy motorbikes had come to a stop, and I barely noticed the pat on my leg until I felt his hand grip round my thigh when I hadn’t responded. Demon had already removed his helmet, hanging it on the handlebars and around us the rumble of exhausts suddenly stopped. Leather moved. Climbing off bikes, pulling luggage and tents and equipment from the back of seats and the insides of panniers.

Demon was doing the same, yanking out poles from a bag and sliding them through the crinkling blue material that lay on the floor at his feet. And quickly the little dome tent took shape. Within a few minutes, the camp had transformed from a patch of flattened grass to a commune of tents, taking over the land, motorbikes parked next to them like steel sentries.

“So, what now?” I asked, scanning across the land of multi-coloured domes.

“Now we drink.” Magnet wrapped an arm over my shoulder, swigging from the open can in his other hand. Demon shot him a look, and he dropped it immediately, chuckling.

“And get stoned,” one of the twins joined in.

“What? For the next three days. That’s all we do?” I asked, watching Demon raking around in the bottom of the panniers and pulling out a box of lager.

“Some of us fuck, too,” the twin continued, flashing me a cheeky grin.

“Careful, Cade,” Demon stepped forward, his hand gripping his can.

“Caleb.”

“Whichever fucking one you are. I don’t share.”

“Come on,” Suzy linked her arm in mine. “I’ll go show you round.”

“Really? There doesn’t look like much more here other than tents and bikes.”

“Yeah, but it gives the men time to set up camp and get a few beers down.”

We wandered away, weaving through encampments and bikes, into the centre of the field. I’d seen a bit of it the other day; the bare bones of the stages, the outer shells of the marquees, but today it looked like a village had been built overnight. The outdoor stages were already attracting a crowd, music cutting through the early summer’s day, and the smell of onions filled the air around us. My stomach grumbled loudly.

“Hungry?” Suzy laughed, the sun cascading over her delicate face and gentle blue eyes.

“Yeah. Didn’t get any breakfast we were…. Busy.” No one needed to know the next bit.

But Suzy knew. She beamed at me, like I’d told her some insanely good news.

“Come on. The burger place over there is really good.”

“You not drinking?” I asked, setting the burger on the juices that had dripped out onto the waxed paper underneath it, and taking a long swig from the pint of lager in the plastic glass.

Suzy smiled. Not as broad as the one before, but there was an excitement there in her eyes.

“We’re trying for a baby.”

“Oh. Wow. Well, that’s great. You can still drink now, though.”

She shook her head, a sudden flash of sadness gone in a moment.

“It’s not been easy. We haven’t managed to get pregnant yet. So, I’m just doing everything I can to make sure my body is somewhere one might like to grow. You know?”

“I don’t, Suzy. It’s not anything I’ve ever wished for.”

It never had been. Why would I want to bring a child into this world?

“You don’t want kids?”

“I just haven’t given it much thought,” I lied, much too easily. “What does Magnet think about kids? The MC world, well, its…”

“I know. To an outsider. I mean. I didn’t mean that you’re an outsider,” she stuttered, grabbing my hand apologetically. “I just mean, when you’re not used to the bike scene.”

“It’s got a vibe though, hasn’t it? I mean, it’s a dangerous place, and there’s lots of illegal shit that goes about. You ok bringing kids into that?”

Suzy smiled. There was no hint of annoyance on her face, only that normal gentle kindness that was uniquely Suzy.

“Sure, there’s some not so legal stuff that goes down. It happens everywhere. In every element of society. And the more money you’ve got, the more that crime and corruption goes on. Just because someone wears a suit, it doesn’t make them a good person. We’re a family. And here family is important. We help each other, protect each other, protect the club. Loyalty is everything. If the shit hits the fan, everyone responds. One in, all in. That’s how it works, Ciara. We look after our own. So yes. It’s a great place to raise kids.”

I smiled, weakly. But not because I was embarrassed by the questions I’d asked or chastised. But because I could see the brotherhood amongst the Kings. I could see that loyalty, that sense of family. It had just taken me longer to recognise it because it was something I’d never had.

“Come on,” Suzy said as soon as I’d finished the burger and drained the last drop of lager from the plastic pint glass. “Reckon they’ve all had a chance to sort their shit out now. And there was no fucking way I was cooking lunch for them all.”

“Suzy! Language!” I played the mock shock well and the petite blonde woman grinned back at me.

We left the outdoor food court, leaving behind the myriad of food stalls, pushing on up the little hill, the long grass grabbing at each leg. I set my foot down, catching something uneven in the ground, a hole, or a mound, but whatever it had knocked me off balance, and I lurched sideways, towards the approaching group of men in black leather.

An arm grabbed me, catching me before I hit the ground and looked like a total idiot. He pulled me to my feet.

“Told yous all the lasses fall for me,” he pronounced loudly to the group.

Suzy took a step back, her little frame tensing immediately. She glanced at me, fear on her face. In front of me, the man smiled back. A shock of thick, red hair mussed across his head, and a full, dark red beard covering his face. He had a kind face, not one I would automatically run from. The men behind him not so much. He wore the usual leather cut. It was sleeveless, letting tattooed, muscled arms escape.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling away from him, catching Suzy’s eye and still unsure why she looked so scared of these men. We were Northern Kings, after all, and she was Magnet’s old lady. So why so scared?

The red-haired man smiled, a row of beautiful white teeth.

“And who are you girls, huh?”

“Ol’ ladies,” Suzy answered, her voice betraying the fear on her face.

He tipped his head, glancing over at Suzy and then back to me. His eyes lingered, and he made a big display of letting them travel to my chest, licking his lips as he rested there for way too long.

“Mate. Eyes up here,” I corrected him, and he smirked in response.

“Hmmm, a spicy one,” he said, moving closer, his arm snaking around my waist.

“Hey. We’re Kings,” Suzy shouted. “That’s Demon’s ol’ lady. Get your hands off her.”

His arm dropped from around me immediately, and for a second there was a glimmer of shock on his face as he took a step back, creating distance between us once again.

“Uh huh, buddy. You’d better not stick those hands on her again.”

“Demon’s ol’ lady, huh?” He looked me up and down again, this time not letting his eyes stop on any one part of me.

“Fuck’s sake,” I spat, “I’m no fucker’s old lady, ol’ woman, woman, or any sort of property. Now kindly fuck off.” I waved an arm in the air for effect as one of the other bikers moved to Red’s side.

“Come on, mate,” he said, and Red obeyed immediately, following the older man with the long grey hair and trailing grey beard. He looked like a grandpa. A heavily tattooed grandpa.

I pulled Suzy away, pushing up the last metre of the godforsaken hill. We made it to the top in a further five strides and I turned to look at the men moving to the bottom and towards the horse-shoe of food vans. Red and the grandpa walked side by side, but their back patches were not the same. Red’s was all white, an angry bull staring straight back at us. But on Grandpa’s back was a hand punching the air, with blood running down the fist, dripping down the arm.

“Shit!” Suzy hissed beside me, her face turning pale, and if I’d thought she’d looked frightened before, she looked terrified now.