Chapter 2
Camo
M y boots hit the floor hard as I stomp to my parked bike outside of Skyla’s house.
Fucking woman, had to bring up us having more than what we are doing. Sex is all I can offer her right now, or even ever. My line of work is dangerous as fuck and being with someone like me is a risk to her life.
Being the VP of the Kings of Anarchy here in Salem, Mass, brings a fuck ton of danger. Me and my club deal in dark magic, blood, and fucking talismans that bring forward the undead, for fuck’s sake.
We hunt, we kill, but sometimes, and I mean very rarely sometimes, do we die too.
My club is filled with men who come from all walks of the supernatural life, and we each bring something different to the club.
Me, well, I can camouflage myself into anything that I touch, and with years of practice, I can use the floor that I am walking on to fade. That way my hands are free to kill, and no fucker sees me coming until their blood is spilled.
Reaching my bike, I mount my beauty, starting her up and letting the roar of her pipes wake the fucking neighbors up for all I care. Having one more look at Skyla’s house, I shake my head, letting her words fade from my mind, knowing I have shit to do at the club.
Pulling away, I try to push down what she said to me. Wanting me to stay for a few more hours. It is not like I had just fucked her a handful of times already after going to her after a big hunt for some artifact that the local Mayor needed.
I am not going to lie and say that I don’t only go to her to fuck after a day at the club or coming back from a job, because I do, but she knew this when she first took my cock over a year ago.
Up until recently, things between Skyla and me have been good. The sex is nothing like I have ever felt before. I felt a shift in her when she came back from a girls’ weekend with her friend, Eve, who is also her business partner.
Skyla is a strong bitch, never one to ask for help unless she really needs it. She will tackle any shit thrown at her, and fucking smile while doing it.
Lately, she has been hinting at me for different things, like going out to dinner or even fucking coffee. Do I look like the kind of man who wants to go on a coffee date?
Skyla is the type of woman who digs under your skin, one who makes it hard as fuck to let go, but I’m not ready for that shit. I can’t handle more than what we have right now.
She is not the only woman I am with; I get my dick sucked by the club girls, but I do not fuck them.
I am a biker, so it is expected of me to play freely with the club girls.
Pussy and whiskey is what we live by, unless you are paying a few hundred thousand dollars for a job, then I am all fucking ears.
Anger rushes through me, and I slam my fist down on my tank, my bike wavering for a split second.
“ Calm it. Pres will not be happy if you lay that bike down.”
The voice in my head sounds and I scoff.
“Get out of my head, you creepy fuck.”
“Nah, brother, I like pissing you all off when you are fucking or taking a shit,” Cotton sounds in my head.
The fucker’s power is telepathy, and he uses our heads like a kid’s walkie-talkie toy.
I shake my head, chuckling. Cotton likes to fuck with us.
One time, Thorin was fucking some “blood pet” as he likes to call them, and Cotton started singing some Taylor Swift song. Safe to say, Thorin lost his hard-on and had to leave the chick. Cotton was on his shit list for weeks.
Arriving at the club, I am happy that I have calmed some, but I know that once I get in there, the guys are going to want to know why the fuck I am here and not buried deep inside Skyla.
Why did she have to go and ruin shit?
I know I can be cold and distant, but I need to keep her at arm’s length and just give her my cock, mouth, and fingers. That is all she is getting from me; I will not survive her getting hurt because of me.
She will never know that I am doing this for her.
Parking my bike, I take a breath, looking up at the old building that houses the clubhouse.
Back in 1823, it was built as a ranch house for a rich fat fuck, then it got turned into a whorehouse as it was out of the way of the main city location and men liked to pretend that they were not dipping out on their wives who remained in the city, then finally a bar before we got ahold of it after the bar had a fire.
It has three stories: Pres and me getting the top floor split between us, each of the patched members with rooms spread out on the next floor down, and then the ground floor is where you will find everyone else.
The kitchen, the main common room, and off to the side, thanks to a rebuild, is where the club girls sleep and take brothers to fill their holes.
Over the years, we have added to our land, and we have a fence that wraps around the entire property, making sure to keep stray folks out.
It has a big ass iron gate that may look old, but it is re-enforced and has an electronic padlock that only members can use to get in, pretty much like all rooms here.
Pres, aka Winger, is none too careful about what goes on around his club.
Stepping into the main room, I see my brothers, some talking and having a drink, while over by the bar, which is nothing unusual, is Shift getting his cock sucked.
“Where the fuck did you fuck off to after the job?” Thorin asks before sipping from his drink.
What people may know now is that natural-born vampire can only drink blood, but humans who are turned can eat human food as well as drink blood.
Thorin is just that: he got turned over one-hundred-and-two years ago by some cougar woman he was fucking, and she wanted a boy toy for the rest of her days, but that is his story to tell.
“He went to his woman,” Halen adds, and I flick the prick the bird, making him and the other men laugh.
“Not my woman.” I shrug, signaling for the prospect to bring me a beer.
“No? Well, if you are not claiming her then you won’t give a fuck if I give her a ride, too.” Halen pushes out of his seat, and a growl emanates from deep within my chest.
He smirks at me, sitting back down, and my fists clench on my thighs, my fingers itching to feel the crack of his jaw.
“Do not fucking fade, you cheating cunt. You want to fight me, you fucking fight where I can see you.”
He smirks at me giving him a menacing look, because he knows that if I fade out, he will not see me coming, and I will win every fucking time.
“Enough, you bunch of fucking misfits. Got a job for you, Camo. Take Thorin and Rush with you.” He hands me a piece of paper with a job on it.
“Who the fuck wants this?” I frown, looking up at Winger.
“I do not ask that shit, you know that. We get the job, we fulfil the job, we collect the money. Win-win, brother.” I nod to Pres.
Winger is a solid president, he will take care of everyone within the club. He is fair when it comes to his rules and laws of the club, but fuck me, cross him and you will feel his wrath. Winger is a seer, so most times, he will see your fuckup before you do.
“Pres, the Fenteri clan has dropped off some fresh meat, says that they will drop the extra payment off tomorrow when their Alpha returns,” Oryn informs us when he steps into the room.
Oryn is our chaplain, as he can see and speak to the dead. He also comes with an added extra in the form of a sixteen-year-old ghost, Izzy.
We can see her as we are supernaturals, but humans cannot, unless Izzy wants to make a point, and believe me, sometimes her points are fucking hilarious.
Dressed in the clothes she died in, Izzy sits on the bar in a navy hoodie and ripped jeans, with Vans.
“Sup, Camo?”
“Sup? Really? You are trying that shit now.” I glance at her.
“Why not? I am fucking bored to death, man.” She giggles. “See what I did there.”
I can’t help but smile at the girl. She may be a ghost but we see her as a little sister, since she has been here for three fucking years. Both she and Oryn have tried working out why she has not moved on yet, since her parents have and they all died in the same car crash.
“You need to get a life, little miss.” I wink and leave the room, leaving her laughing behind me.
“We following you, VP?” Thorin asks.
I nod, checking that he is wearing his ring. Thorin is the club’s vampire, and luckily for him, he found a witch who did not want to kill his pale ass, so she granted him a ring that allows him to walk among the living during the day.
We leave the clubhouse and all thoughts of Skyla leave my mind, forcing me to focus on the job that I need to do. Once I get this job done, I can get my dick sucked, see if that will help clear my head.
Fuck me, women can be so fucking complicated when they want to be.
Through the inner connection, Cotton guides us through the streets of Salem. Fall is here so the streets are lined with trees that bask in their orange and brown leaves. Salem really is the best place to be during this season, and believe me, we get flooded with tourists come Halloween.
Best fucking night of the year.
Supernaturals can be themselves to an extent, but we still take some precautions when it comes to overzealous humans wanting a piece of us for a good ride, or to get a bounty which has picked back up again over the years.
With Thorin and Rush at my side, we arrive at the cabin in the woods, and a little old lady comes out to greet us with a shotgun in her hand, aimed at us.
“Whoa there, little lady. We just want to talk.” Thorin tries using his soothing vampire voice but she jerks her gun at him.
“Not going to work, bloodsucker. I know what you’re here for and you ain’t getting it.”
“Let me try,” Rush speaks before moving closer.
I watch as he steps to her, speaking in hushed tones, until the gun is lowered. Rush has compulsion voice power. He lowers his voice, adding some gruffness to it, and it makes you turn into mush for him and do what he says.
He nods his head at us, in the direction of the cabin.
“In a box under the loose floorboard under her bed,” he informs us.
I slap him on the shoulder as we leave him on the front porch of the cabin. An unsettling feeling hits my gut, and I can’t help but think this was too fucking easy.
“Something is off,” I call out to Thorin, who nods in agreement.
His eyes darken, and I know he is sensing the room.
“There is a strong, non-human heartbeat back there.”
Finding her bedroom, we open the door and move inside but come to a complete stop, looking at what the fuck we just found.
There, curled up in the middle of the bed, is a fucking baby dragon.
“Fuck, I have not seen a dragon in years,” Thorin states, keeping his voice low.
“I need to fade,” I say, already dropping to the floor and letting my body blend with the dark wooden flooring.
Seeking out what I came here to find, I locate it quickly, but there is a low growl emanating from above me on the bed.
“It is awake, brother. We need to fucking move,” Thorin whisper-yells.
I crawl back out, standing to full height, and the dragon jerks back seeing me suddenly, but before either of us can react, we hear Rush.
“No. Hush, now.” His voice low and soothing.
“No need to be afraid. We are not here to hurt you.” He steps closer.
“I am going to pet you and you will allow it, because you know that I am not going to hurt you, neither are my brothers.” He slides his hand up the nose between its eyes and back again.
The dragon purrs and I can’t help but laugh.
“Fucking unreal.”
“He is coming with us. They are keeping him here against his will. A compulsion is on his soul to protect the hag outside, but I can break it.”
I shrug. “I am okay with that.”
We load up the dragon and the amulet that I collected and we head back to the clubhouse. I can’t help but think that nothing is very simple or straightforward with the Kings.