Page 69 of Wicked Shadows
A group of twenty handpicked men closed in on Shadow, taunting him with insults as they shuffled around him. He braced himself, knowing the first hit would be a sucker punch meant to disorient before the brood jumped on him at once.
The biker tried to be nonchalant, but Shadow saw the punch coming and turned his head away from it slightly, softening the blow. The others immediately jumped at the chance, fists flying, flesh smacking against flesh. He ducked and shielded his head with this thick arms as much as he could. Several banded together and pushed him to the ground, where they commenced kicking and punching him repeatedly.
He heard Headbanger’s laughter roar over the angry mob surrounding him.
From between his arms, he saw the crowd part to allow another man a wide berth to pass. He could barely make out the outline of what the guy carried in his hand, but the glowing red end left no room for mistaking it. They were getting ready to hold him down and brand him.
Elle’s face flashed in his mind. Amid the kicks to the back and legs, the punches to his jaws and ribs, he focused on her safety as a reminder of why he allowed the beating to occur in the first place. His revenge would be swift and terrible as soon as she was out of harm’s way. It was the feel of her embrace and smell of her smooth skin that prevented him from screaming out in pain when the skin on his back sizzled from the searing hot branding iron.
“Enough.” One word from Headbanger halted all action. “Get up, Doorman. Greet your brothers.”
Shadow stood and faced the man holding the branding iron. His mocking laugh was met by the cold, fierce stare of a man who tortured people for a living to gain intel from them. For that dickhead, Shadow decided he’d do it for free.
With his lightning reflexes, Shadow snatched the brand from the biker’s hand and had him flat on his back before anyone knew what had happened. With his heavy boot across the guy’s neck holding him in place, Shadow twirled the hot iron in his fingers, watching the fear fill his victim’s eyes. The angry mob stood stock-still, shocked at the sudden turn of events and unsure of how they should react.
“We’re brothers now, right?” Shadow asked, taunting his mocker. “We need matching tattoos, then.”
On a downward twirl, Shadow pushed the brand into his chest. The biker screamed in pain, his arms flailing as he tried to hit Shadow’s leg, the brand—anything he could reach that would stop the pain. Shadow lifted the brand and inspected the angry, burnt skin in the middle of the biker’s chest.
“That’s better.” Shadow released him and spat on the ground, barely missing his shocked face. He threw the branding iron, making several of his new brothers jump out of the way. He turned his sights on the men who had so brutally inducted him, ready to return the favor tenfold. The first one within reach was the unlucky poster boy for the others. Shadow held him with one hand and repeatedly punched him with the other.
When the rest of the initiators attempted to stop him, he released his victim and let his fists fly. When they thought they had him contained, he outwitted and outmaneuvered them, while hurling insults about their inability to overpower him, even with twenty men to one. Every word and every blow only added to his determination. At the end of the case, he would be surprised if a single Devil was still standing.
“Stop.” Headbanger moved into the crowd and surveyed Shadow from top to bottom. Then he turned to do the same to the men he’d picked to induct Shadow. “You’re beat to shit—your face, arms, everywhere. But you give as good as you get. These boys look like they’ve been through a meat grinder.”
“And I was only getting warmed up.”
Headbanger laughed at his response, but Shadow wasn’t joking.
“You’re part of the Devil’s Dominion now. But you have to complete a couple of tasks to get your rocker panels and patch. You ready?”
“Absolutely.”
He pulled a picture from his vest pocket and handed it to Shadow. Nick moved around the crowd so he was in a direct line of sight behind Headbanger, reading Shadow’s expression. “Find her. Take her. Don’t get caught or be seen by anyone.”
“Take her where? Who is she?”
“To the country club. Spider can fill you in. And who she is doesn’t matter. Complete this, and you get the bottom rocker and the club patch.”
“And the top rocker?”
“You are ambitious.” Headbanger smiled, knowing Shadow wasn’t the type to do anything half-assed. “Someone has been a thorn in my side. You can take care of that for me, right?”
“Of course.” Shadow shrugged, as if a request to kill someone was an everyday occurrence. “Who?”
“The girl first. Then the top rocker. One step at a time.”
Shadow shifted his eyes slightly over Headbanger’s shoulder and connected with Nick’s. An imperceptible nod was all it took to confirm his suspicions.
“Spider, take the Doorman to the old clubhouse with you. Explain our process to him. Take Axle and Renegade with you, too.”
“Axle is already there, babysitting our company.”
“Even better. You head on over to the old clubhouse and keep him company, then. Renegade and Doorman can handle this one on their own. Can’t you, boys?”
“Piece of cake,” Shadow replied.
“Renegade, come talk to me before you leave,” Headbanger called over his shoulder when he walked away.
