Page 4 of Property of Mako (Kings of Anarchy MC: Louisiana #1)

A Snag in the Dark

Mako

My bike roared beneath me, eating up the road like a beast barely held in check. My eyes remained on the empty stretch of highway before me. The worn leather on my gloves flexed on the throttle as the blood from earlier dried under my fingernails.

Fuck, I was pissed. Tonight had an unexpected snag, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t look back, though. I never did. The abandoned factory, the girl, the Covenant enforcers—ashes now.

Just more ghosts to add to the pile.

Hell, I hadn’t planned on killing anyone this evening. Not overtly. It was only supposed to be a recon mission. Dexter and I were checking out a rumor we’d caught wind of that the Covenant enforcers might be behind the trafficking.

All we were supposed to do was watch the drop point, confirm it was them, then pass the information on to my President Boomslang and my VP Killswitch. They would decide our next steps.

The young victim hanging like a side of beef hit on too many nerves. It had made me sloppy. But Dexter also started to lose his cool when he’d seen her and that was rare.

I’d been intentionally trying not to think of the foolishly brave woman I’d inadvertently saved.

Through the slaughter I’d dished out to those Covenant enforcers, I could hear her heartbeat as it raced like a runaway horse. My nostrils flared slightly as I imagined that thick, dark red liquid rushing through her veins. From her scent, I knew it would taste sweet with a bit of a bite.

Thankfully, I’d already eaten, because the way she had looked and smelled had my canines aching. If I hadn’t, it might’ve been me lying on the ground turning to dust because I would’ve been so distracted by her that I wouldn’t have been able to focus.

It would’ve made me sloppy—something I couldn’t afford to be.

Even now, the image of her with her arms wrapped protectively around her middle, trying not to appear as terrified as I knew she was, took over my thoughts.

With the way her eyes had been dilated and her breaths had come in little rapid bursts, I knew adrenaline was rushing through her blood.

Hell, I could practically smell it… mixed with something I couldn’t pinpoint.

Though I considered myself a civilized being, I still occasionally enjoyed the chase because that adrenaline gave a human’s blood a delectable and zesty flavor.

Something told me she would be a delightful little snack. Nothing more.

I almost believed that.

Behind me, the lights of the town faded. Up ahead, I saw the taillights on the side of the road. Knowing who it was, I downshifted and began to slow down.

“This is going to be a problem,” Dexter said as I pulled up alongside the truck window. He had pulled over against the side of the country road to wait for me.

My brow pinched, and I looked inside the cab. The girl was now wrapped in an old wool army blanket and passed out against the other door. “What happened?”

“Not her,” he ground out.

I glanced into his angry gaze.

“Her,” he snapped as he jerked his head back, motioning toward the direction we’d come from.

My chin rose defensively. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

Despite saying I left her with the rest of the mess back there, I’d been seeing that young woman’s terrified hazel eyes in my mind since I walked away from her.

The fact that her mind seemed to be a steel trap had me reeling.

“That woman changed everything. I shouldn’t have slowed those enforcers down for her to get away. I should’ve just let nature take its course.” He dragged a frustrated hand down his face.

Of course she did, and he probably should have. I hadn’t survived as long as I had by being a complete moron. But our chapter of the Kings of Anarchy did what we could to save people like her—not leave them for dead.

But fuck, she had been in the wrong damn place at the absolute worst time. A messy, wide-eyed mortal with a stubborn jaw and an obvious death wish. No fucking fangs. No backup. Only a crowbar and too much goddamn nerve. What the hell was she doing there?

“What did you find when you wiped her? Who the fuck was she and what was she doing there?”

“I—” I started, then stopped.

Dexter groaned as he let his head fall back to the headrest. “Oh man, Mako, tell me you wiped her.”

“There wasn’t time,” I lied.

“Bullshit,” he spat out as he glared at me, spotting my BS from a mile away. “Wait… you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“What? Of course not!” I snapped. Did he really expect that from me?

“Bro, she saw you. She saw them . She saw what you did to them,” he bit out. “She’s a witness and that’s a problem. Fuck, this is bad.”

“We don’t fucking kill innocents, and there wasn’t time,” I insistently shot back.

“I understand that, Mako. But goddammit, she’s gonna talk. This is gonna be fuckin’ bad, bro. You should’ve wiped her memory immediately—you had time and you damn well know it. That or we should’ve brought her with and let Zeus take care of her.”

Knowing full good and well I’d fucked up, but not having a rational excuse to give him for leaving her memories intact, I sighed.

“I’ll deal with it when the time comes. She was probably so scared she won’t tell anyone.

Besides, who would actually believe her?

Let’s get this one back so you can look her over. You think she’s gonna make it?”

“She’ll make it. I just don’t know what kind of condition she’s going to be in.”

Knowing what he was referring to, I gave a curt nod and took off down the road toward the clubhouse. Faster, I sped, trying to outpace the feeling the ballsy redhead had left me with.

Something about her face—it twisted things in me that I thought were long dead. Not attraction. Not yet, I told myself. It was something colder. Deeper.

Recognition.

She reminded me of Calla.

Not in the obvious ways, but in the way that every endangered female reminded me.

Because no, outwardly, she wasn’t anything like my sister.

Calla had been poised, noble, careful with her fire and emotions.

This girl was rough edges and raw grief.

It had poured off her in waves. Yet there was something in her eyes when she’d looked at me.

Besides that look that people get when they realize monsters are real. No, not simply real—that they bleed.

What I saw in her eyes was something I wasn’t willing or prepared to process. The fact that I couldn’t… well, that was another thing entirely.

The rest of the trip back to the Kings’ compound was a blur.

After rolling through the gates, I cut my engine outside the clubhouse.

The Iron Den, as we called it, sat quiet under the bright moon, all corrugated steel and deep shadows.

The scent of motor oil, exhaust, and crusted blood clung to me as I slid off my bike.

As I walked toward the dented steel door, Dexter pulled up.

Realizing I’d left him in my dust, a tiny kernel of guilt burned in my gut.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Still, I helped him get the girl out of the truck so the blanket didn’t fall off of her nude form.

She was still out, and I had a feeling he’d given her something to keep her that way.

“You take her to the infirmary. I’ll go explain to Boomslang and Killswitch about what happened. I’ll take full responsibility,” I assured him.

He shook his head. “That’s not fair. This was as much on me as you,” he explained as he dipped his chin to the girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen.

“I was more referring to the other one,” I wryly clarified.

He pursed his lips but didn’t speak.

I sighed heavily. “Just go take care of her. I’ll find the other one, then head over to wipe her memory after I talk to them.”

He gave me a curt nod and walked off toward the small building we used as our infirmary.

Inside, my president was half-asleep in the common area lounge, one booted foot kicked up on the pool table. He looked up and raised a brow. “You’re back early.”

I tossed a bloody knife on the bar and ran a hand through my windblown hair. Then I grabbed one of the bar towels, poured some vodka on it, and started to wipe it clean. “Plans changed.”

Boomslang and Killswitch eyed me intently. “That bad?” Killswitch asked.

“Three enforcers. The rumors were correct—Covenant’s operating closer than we thought. I terminated them.”

Boomslang whistled low. “Shit. Anyone see you do that? Did anyone follow?”

“No.” I paused. “But there was a human.”

“A human?” Killswitch asked, leaning forward slightly.

Closing my eyes for a brief second, I sighed. “Actually two.”

That got Boomslang’s undivided attention. He sat up straight. “Dead?”

“No.” Fuck, I almost wished she was. “First one was a victim. Dexter is dealing with her now. Young. Too fucking young. Zeus or I will need to wipe her memory, or she’ll never lead a normal life.

That is, if they didn’t already start the process.

Dexter is going to keep her safe until we know.

The other one—she saw too much, and they were after her. I had to intervene.”

“Since when do you play hero to strangers?” Niner, our treasurer, snorted.

He was such an asshole. I really didn’t like him.

He was the only one who disagreed with us helping the humans.

He was of the mind that they existed for us to feed and fuck.

I wish he had chosen a different chapter, but there weren’t a ton to choose from for people like us.

He was also a wizard when it came to money and laundering it—hence his position as treasurer, even though he was a dick.

“Fuck off,” I grunted. Technically, he was right—I wasn’t exactly running around trying to save every human on Earth, but I refused to see them destroyed.

Boomslang stared at me to the point that I wanted to squirm. He knew me better than anyone in the club. We’d known each other for more years than most people were on Earth. He knew that wasn’t completely true either.

Eliska was living proof of that. She’d been a librarian I had befriended at one time.

She’d reminded me of my sister in a way, and she was kind to me.

Call it a slip-up, but I’d developed a fondness for her.

She was probably the first person I’d truly cared about in ages.

When she’d been abducted and I couldn’t find her, I had reached out to a hacker I’d worked with in the past.

That was before I’d run into Boomslang again. We hadn’t seen each other in over seventy-five years. We’d spent the evening in a dingy bar in a tiny town in Tennessee catching up.

I found it ironic that he was in a motorcycle club because, before everything with Eliska, I’d infiltrated a motorcycle club on a lead that they were tightly tied to a trafficking ring I’d been trying to destroy.

Not out of any true noble motives, but because one of the vampires connected to my sister’s death was working with them.

At the end of the night, he’d asked me to follow him back to Louisiana and join his club. With Eliska safe and choosing to stay in Iowa, I’d taken it as a sign. The rest was history.

After I motioned to the prospect behind the bar, he hurried over. I pointed at one of the bottles, and he set it before me with a thump.

I popped open the bottle of blood whiskey and lifted it to my lips, throat burning as I drank. The memory of her lingered—wild, red hair, the fire in her eyes, and the blood spatter on her cheek—and it made something shift in my chest.

Fuck, I hated that. Dexter was right—I should’ve wiped her immediately. It would’ve been cleaner. Safer. Yet I’d hesitated, which was out of character for me. Not because of mercy, however.

But rather because something was very unusual about her, and something else told me that wasn’t the last time I’d see her. “I’ll deal with it all. Don’t worry. Killswitch? You still up for that ink we talked about?”

“You wanna start that now ?” Killswitch asked.

“Unless you have something else going on.”

“Nope. Let’s go,” he got to his feet.

“I’ll call church for in the morning. We’ll discuss this turn of events more then,” Boomslang firmly announced, leaving no room for argument.

Lips flat, I nodded.

Stripping off my bloodstained cut, I walked down the back hallway to the room Killswitch and Zeus used for club ink work. As I pulled my torn T-shirt over my head, I caught my reflection in the mirror by the door. That BS about vampires not seeing their reflections made me chuckle darkly.

The bite wounds were already closing, but the burn she’d left in my thoughts?

Not so much. It had taken extreme willpower not to taste her.

The way her pulse had pounded through her veins had gotten my attention, but it was more than that.

There was something in her scent—and I’m not talking about perfume.

It was like I could smell something different in her very blood.

It had called to me, almost like a song. It left me hungry .

Staring at my reflection, I had a sense of foreboding. I’d never seen her before, yet I craved her, and that was definitely not good. My eyes were still too silver. Skin too marked by the past. My teeth still too sharp. They actually ached.

What I saw in that glass was a monster, dressed in leather and rage. I should’ve terrified her. The fact that she’d defiantly confronted me was almost a… turn-on. Those weren’t feelings I’d had in a long while. Ignoring them, I took a seat as Killswitch quickly set up.

By the time he started the needle, I was more than ready. He was starting a new piece across my ribs. Pain helped me focus—helped me stay grounded in the present instead of the past.

That woman.

She’d really thrown a wrench into my night and maybe the last hundred or so years of solitude I’d built like a fortress around myself. What was it about her that I couldn’t stop thinking about her?

Tomorrow, I would have my work cut out for me. I would need to start the process of hunting her down. Humans were supposed to break. That’s what made them easy to forget. But this one? She’d survived three enforcers, a blood-drenched slaughter, and… me.

That made her dangerous.

I closed my eyes and lost myself in the buzz of the tattoo gun and the stinging in my side before it went numb.

Little did I know, I wouldn’t have to go looking for little Miss Hazel Eyes.