My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC #2) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Biker, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Magic, MC, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Hell MC Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 795(@200wpm)___ 636(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
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“Don’t flatter yourself. I only care about you blackening my ancestor. If it was up to me, I’d okay you getting all of Fane’s bones to molest. I wouldn’t even care if you fucked yourself with his femur!”

Fury at the insults boiled up in Elliot so fiercely he leaned forward and spat in Tr_Knight’s face. “Fuck you!” Then, looking at the biker’s shocked expression, he stalled with his stomach clenching. What had he done?

He turned around and ran.

The loud bang of a firearm going off had him screaming at the top of his lungs as he fled between the trees, already feeling weakened, as if Tr_Knight had got him and blood was now gushing out of a wound Elliot couldn’t yet feel due to the adrenaline rush.

He couldn’t stop to check where he’d been hit. There was no time for that if he wanted a chance at living through this ordeal.

Ha ran between the trees and had to let go of his wig when it got caught on a branch. By the time he reached his car, his hands were trembling and he was still in disbelief over what had happened. He started the engine in a frenzy but was becoming sure that no bullet had grazed him in the end.

For a moment he considered going back to retrieve his wig, but he couldn’t be sure it was safe, so he drove off.

Tr_Knight was a fucking maniac.

He was also one excruciatingly handsome man.

Chapter 3

Knight lowered his gun, scowling at the buzzing left in his ears by the bang. The cheap brocade and polyester of The Count’s silvery coat glinted in the autumnal sunlight as he took flight across the expanse of grass that was now covered by a thick layer of brown leaves. Each dash he made forward sent a cloud of the decaying mess into the air, and at one point only spreading his spidery arms wide for balance saved the Count from doing a somersault and landing flat on his back.

Slaloming as if it could actually help him if Knight actually aimed at him, The Count ran for cover between the trees, without turning around once. The guy was a bagful of crazy and Knight wasn’t sure if he wanted to drown that bag in a lake and never see it again, or open it up and investigate every strange thing to be found there.

“What’s going on?” Beast yelled, and his heavy footsteps resonated with splashes as he ran Knight’s way through the wet grass surrounding the house.

Knight exhaled and wiped the splash of spit off his face with the front of his T-shirt. He couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of that fucker. It wasn’t a far-fetched conclusion that anyone who was a fan of a serial killer and dressed up as him couldn’t be right in the head, but crossing into the territory of a biker gang was a whole new level of stupid.

He looked over his shoulder and put the gun into its holster. “It was the fucking Count,” he told Beast, who was jogging toward him with a stern look on his face.

“What? Your Internet nemesis?”

Knight rolled his eyes, once again reminded how little even his best friend thought of his interest in history. “He spat in my face. The idiot has a death wish.”

Beast reached him, and the fast dash all the way from the clubhouse didn’t seem to have affected him much. He exhaled and looked between the trees with a small smile ghosting across his lips. “Ah. Did you tell him to say it was an unknown shooter when they get him into the hospital?”

The cogs in Knight’s head jammed and recoiled. “I didn’t actually shoot him. It was just to scare him off.”

Beast stared without a word, looking more sinister by the moment with the old asylum looming behind him and the moon rising in the sky while the sun was still up. “Some clown spits the VP of the Kings in the face and gets away with it?” he asked in the end.

Knight cleared his throat. “Come on. Did you see him? He looks like a skeleton dressed up as Liberace. He’s just a nutjob.”

Beast poked Knight’s chest. “He spat. In. Your. Face. We are not letting this go!” He pulled on Knight’s arm. “You’re VP, Knight. You’ve gotta take this stuff seriously. If people think they can come and invade our property, disrespect us, everything falls apart. Let’s chase down that fucker and teach him a lesson. We could have Hound track him. Just looking at that dog would make him shit his pants.”

Knight swallowed and followed Beast, uneasy about attacking someone so much weaker than him that he practically fell into the ditch following a push that didn’t even involve half of Knight’s strength. “He wasn’t here to snoop on us. He was here to see the graves. I mean, it was damn stupid, but I get that.”


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