Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
K ing strode toward the compound, his jaw tight, his mind already back at his place. He wanted this over with. The sooner he met with Sloan, the sooner he could get back to Amara.
After settling Joey in, Sloan had called, asking him to come to his office. King hadn’t questioned it. When Sloan called, you answered. But that didn’t mean he liked leaving Amara.
Viktor and Bishop had shown up just before he left, joining Adam and Steve at his place. They told him that Sloan had sent them. It was reassurance that Amara would be protected while he was gone. Still, it didn’t sit right with him.
He had asked her to come with him, but she had chosen to stay with Joey. He understood she didn’t want to leave Joey, but that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling crawling up his spine. He would have felt better with her by his side, where he could see her, where he could protect her himself.
He couldn’t shake the restlessness inside him when she was out of his sight. His instincts told him something was coming and soon.
King stepped into Sloan’s office, his senses on high alert, even in a place that should have felt familiar. The room was empty except for Becky, who stood at the fax machine, her fingers deftly working the controls. She turned at the sound of his entrance, offering him a knowing smile.
“Hi, King.”
“Hey,” he greeted, his gaze sweeping over the office before settling back on her. His lips quirked into a smirk. “So, how did Sloan bribe you into faxing his stuff?”
Becky raised an eyebrow, her smile turning slow and mischievous. “You really want me to answer that?”
King’s smirk dropped instantly. “Yeah, forget I asked.” He snorted, shaking his head as she laughed. He definitely didn’t need to hear about Sloan’s personal business with his mate. Some things were better left unknown.
His eyes flicked around the office, noticing how much neater it looked. The usual piles of paperwork were no longer threatening to topple over, and the random clutter Sloan never seemed to care about had been cleared away. It felt… different. Less chaotic.
“You’ve been busy,” he observed, nodding toward the cleaned-up space.
Becky chuckled as she moved back to her desk, sliding a stack of papers into a drawer. “Someone had to do it. You know Sloan. He gets caught up in everything but organization.”
King huffed a quiet laugh but didn’t respond. His mind wasn’t really here, to be honest, it was back home, with Amara. Even standing in Sloan’s office, he felt the pull toward her, an invisible tether that tightened with every second he spent away.
Becky glanced up at him, her expression softening. “He’ll be right back.”
King gave a short nod, rolling his shoulders to shake off the unease creeping in. The sooner he got this meeting over with, the sooner he could return to where he wanted to be.
King barely had time to get comfortable before Sloan walked in, trailed by Daniel, Charger, and Ryker. The air in the room instantly shifted, thick with tension. King met each of their gazes, nodding in acknowledgment before zeroing in on Sloan.
“You said be here. I’m here.” His tone was clipped as his eyes flicked to Daniel. “What’s up?”
Sloan snorted, dropping into his chair. “I wish some of these other assholes were that damn obedient.” His smirk faded as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “We got a name from one of the pricks you beat the shit out of.”
King’s body tensed, his muscles coiling like a predator ready to strike. “Who?” His voice came out low, deadly.
“Valkas,” Ryker answered, stepping forward. His expression was grim, his jaw tight. “The guy never saw him but heard the name. He’s a Warlock, one known to work closely with demons. I had a few run-ins with him in the past. Nasty piece of shit who will do anything for power and money. He will go to any lengths to carry out whatever job he’s given if the pay and prestige are good.”
King’s hands curled into fists. “Where can I find this fucker?” His voice was razor-sharp, edged with the barely controlled rage burning inside him. Every second wasted was a second Amara was in danger.
“He’s not the main character in this chaos,” Daniel said before Ryker could respond. “There’s a demon orchestrating my demise. Actually, there are many salivating to take me out, but one main demon so far who is trying to use Amara to do that. Valkas is our key to finding out who that is.”
King’s patience was wearing thin. “And?” His growl was a warning. He didn’t have time for riddles or half-measures.
“We need to make a trip into the Demon Realm,” Charger said, his expression unreadable. “Are you ready for that?”
King let out a sharp breath, the anticipation surging through his veins like fire. “Fuck yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“Not yet,” Daniel said smoothly.
King snapped his gaze to him, barely restraining another growl threatening to escape. “And why the hell not?”
Daniel met his glare without flinching. “Two reasons.” He didn’t acknowledge King’s irritation, simply continued. “One, time moves differently in the Realm. One day there is like a week up here. Amara’s brother’s funeral is Saturday, right?”
A curse burned at the back of King’s throat. He had forgotten entirely about the time distortion. His gut twisted. He couldn’t leave Amara alone to deal with that. No fucking way.
He forced himself to chill the fuck out before asking, “What’s the second reason?”
“Because I said so,” Daniel answered, his tone infuriatingly calm. Then, before King could explode, he added, “Until I find Valkas and know exactly who the demon is, I’m not wasting my time or anyone else’s running around the Realm blindly. We do that; the demon gets wind that we are on to him. Then we are fucked because he will go so deep in hiding even I will have a hard time finding the bastard.”
King clenched his jaw so tight it ached. “And how do you know this Valkas asshole will even tell you who it is?”
A slow, dark grin stretched across Daniel’s lips, his blue eyes glinting with something almost wicked. “Oh, he’ll tell me, but like I said, if we go in there running around, this demon will hear about it and know I’m on to him. We have to do this smart.”
Ryker crossed his arms, his face set in stone. “I’m also hunting the bastard. We’ll find him, King. But we have to do this smart.”
King gave a tight nod. He hated that he wasn’t the one tracking Valkas down himself, but his focus had to be on Amara. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.
His gaze shifted back to Daniel, a question eating at him. “So, even with all your powers, you don’t know who this demon is?”
Daniel let out a short chuckle, his brows lifting. “If only it worked that way.” His smirk deepened. “If only.”
King narrowed his eyes. “Then how the hell does it work?”
Daniel tilted his head as if genuinely considering the question. Then he shrugged. “Fuck if I know.” His grin was downright smug. “I’ll let you know if I figure it out.”
“For the first time since stepping into the office, King laughed. It was short, rough, but real. Somehow, that was the exact answer he expected. Daniel left the office without another word. King just shook his head. Fucking Daniel.
“I have your schedule cleared until this is taken care of,” Sloan informed him, returning King’s attention to the conversation. “Keeping Amara safe is the top priority. If this fucker gets to her, we could lose Daniel, and that can’t happen.”
Amara had been King’s priority from the moment he laid eyes on her. He’d known it before he was willing to admit it, and now there was no denying it. But he kept that to himself. Instead, he gave a short nod and shifted his focus to Charger. “Anything else I need to know for our trip to the Demon Realm?”
“More than we have time for,” Charger replied, glancing at his watch. “Raven is on rounds right now. Why don’t I head out with you, and we can talk some?”
“Sure, I’m heading back to the house,” King said before turning his gaze back to Sloan. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it,” Sloan said, dismissing them with a wave.
“King.”
Becky’s voice pulled him back just as he was about to leave. She’d been so quiet that he’d almost forgotten she was still in the room. He turned to face her.
“How’s Joey?” she asked, her eyes filled with genuine concern.
“He’s good.” King gave her a small, appreciative smile. “We broke him out of the hospital today and got him settled in.”
“That’s great,” she said with a warm smile. “We’ll be there Saturday to pay our respects to his father.”
“Thank you,” King replied, feeling a rare flicker of warmth at her words. Sloan was a lucky bastard. Becky was one of a kind.
With a final nod to Sloan, he turned and headed out with Charger and Ryker.
“Come on over, Ryker,” King offered as they made their way to their bikes. He liked the warrior-slash-warlock. Actually, he liked his Mate, Susan, even more. The woman was a riot and had no problem giving them hell. King grinned, remembering the time he’d gone over to their place and found her chasing a rooster down the street with a broom, cursing and threatening the damn bird like a wild woman. Yeah, that had been a first for him.
“Can’t, but thanks,” Ryker said, shaking his head. “Susan is threatening to bring the chickens and that fucking rooster into the house if I don’t pick up a heating lamp for them.”
“She’d do it,” Charger snorted, shaking his head.
“Fuck yeah, she’d do it,” Ryker muttered, then let out a low curse. “That’s why my ass is going to get a heating lamp. She already bought fucking diapers for them.”
Both Charger and King froze next to their bikes.
“Chicken diapers?” King repeated, wondering if he’d heard wrong.
“Chicken diapers?” Charger echoed, his tone filled with disbelief.
“Yes, chicken fucking diapers,” Ryker grumbled. He swung a leg over his bike and fired it up. “Whoever came up with that shit needs their ass kicked.”
As he took off down the road, King and Charger stared at each other briefly before bursting into laughter.
Even with all the darkness they faced, moments like this reminded King that their world wasn’t entirely fucked. No matter how bad things got, there was always something in their personal lives that made them forget, if only for a second, just how twisted everything else was.
Still chuckling, King mounted his bike and took off toward his house with Charger.
The ride was short, with no traffic, just the cool night air brushing against his skin. Before long, they pulled into the driveway, parked, and stepped inside.
King’s eyes immediately found Amara. She was sitting in front of a screen, completely engrossed in the game she was playing. Viktor, Steve, and Bishop stood around her, just as absorbed.
He scanned the room, his gaze landing on Joey sitting in one of King’s large, overstuffed chairs with his leg on pillows propped up, locked into his own game. The kid looked relaxed, comfortable, and normal. That alone was a relief.
“In the window, Amara,” Joey called out, his voice full of excitement. “The jerk killed me three times already. Snipe his ass.”
King stepped closer, curious. His gaze shifted to Amara’s screen just as her character moved into position. The character on the screen slid into cover and aimed a sniper rifle at the enemy. One shot. Clean. The guy dropped instantly. Without missing a beat, she switched weapons and took down two more opponents who had been closing in on her.
“Got him!” Amara shouted, her excitement mirroring Joey’s. “Watch out! One’s coming up behind you.”
“It’s crazy how the weapons on this fucking game sound real as hell. You can even distinguish what kind of weapon it is if you know your shit.” Viktor said, watching the screen.
King crossed his arms, watching Amara with an amused smirk. He’d seen plenty of people play video games, but the way she moved...quick, precise, and damn ruthless had him fucking impressed. She slid, jumped, shot, and sniped her opponents like she’d been born with a controller in her hand.
Beside him, Steve let out a low whistle. “And I thought I was pretty good.” He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “She’s a beast at quick scoping.”
King continued watching as Amara executed another flawless kill, her reactions lightning fast. She was completely locked in, her focus razor-sharp until her character got taken out. She cursed under her breath but jumped right back into the fight, undeterred. Moments later, the match ended, and Joey got the play of the game, letting out a victorious shout.
King’s gaze flickered to Amara. She turned toward Joey, her profile softening as she gave him a proud smile. “Good job, dude,” she called out before setting her controller down. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go.” Steve cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders. “I’m a little rusty, though.”
King glanced at the scoreboard. Amara had finished in first place. Joey took second. His eyes flicked back to her as she stood and stretched, the movement drawing his attention like a magnet. He took in the way her shirt lifted slightly, giving him a glimpse of her pale stomach. Heat coiled low in his gut. But before his thoughts could go too far, he caught Viktor grinning at him.
“What?” King growled, already knowing that look.
“Nothing.” Viktor threw up his hands with a chuckle.
“That girl can shoot,” Bishop remarked, crossing his arms. Then he frowned. “Wish she had a real gun to fire at some of those assholes.”
King’s eyes narrowed. “What assholes?”
“The shit talkers,” Steve muttered, waiting for the next game to load. “Some douchebags playing Call of Duty can’t handle losing to a girl. And she fucking destroyed them. Who’s the bitch now, dickheads?”
King’s amusement faded instantly. His jaw clenched as his hands curled into fists at his sides. “They called you a bitch?” he asked Amara, his voice dangerously low.
She hesitated, her brows pulling together like she wasn’t sure why he was pissed.
“They also told her to get in the kitchen and make them a sandwich,” Joey added, rolling his eyes. “They do it all the time, but she doesn’t care. She just kicks their asses and shuts them up. Most of them rage quit like the crybabies they are.”
King’s temper simmered. He knew it was just an online game, but the idea of some faceless assholes disrespecting Amara, his Amara, didn’t sit well with him.
Amara shrugged, flashing a grin. “I really don’t care,” she said. “I’m used to it. Plus, it just makes me want to get better. You know… make grown men cry. It kind of makes my day.”
King smirked, pride settling in his chest. That was his girl.
“Have you ever shot a real gun before?” Charger asked, looking equally impressed.
“Nope.” Amara glanced at the screen. “Just on here. But I know guns and their sounds pretty well.”
“Holy shit,” Charger muttered, shaking his head. “That’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” she said, looking a little embarrassed by the attention. “But it’s just a game.”
“King! Come watch me play!” Joey called, frustration creeping into his voice as he cursed at someone in the game.
King was about to move when Amara spoke again.
“Yeah, alright,” he answered Joey before turning back to her. “You good?”
“Yep.” She hesitated, then shifted on her feet. “I saw some chicken in the fridge when I was getting water. Do you mind if I fry some up? There should be enough for everyone.”
King frowned. She looked uncomfortable like she wasn’t sure if she was overstepping. That didn’t sit right with him.
He closed the distance between them, gently tilting her chin with his fingers. “Amara, anything in this house is yours. You don’t have to ask me. Do you understand?”
She blinked up at him before nodding, pressing into his touch for just a second before he let her go.
“You better go watch Joey before he freaks out,” she said with a small smile. “He’s been asking when you were getting back.”
King nodded but didn’t move right away. Instead, he watched her walk toward the kitchen, his gaze lingering on her until she disappeared from sight.
Only then did he turn to Joey, already wanting everyone to fucking leave and for Joey to go to bed so he could have the rest of the night with Amara. Yeah, he had it fucking bad, and he wasn’t upset about it one bit.
He sat down next to Joey, pretending to focus on the screen, but his mind was still in the kitchen, where Amara was moving around, completely unaware of the war waging inside him. He could hear the faint clatter of pans, the fridge opening and closing. It was such a simple, domestic thing, yet it had his chest tightening with something deep and possessive. At the moment, all he cared about was clearing everyone out and finally having Amara all to himself.