Page 8 of King's Reckoning
The back door burst open. Two men in Devils cuts rushed in, weapons ready. But Rowan was ready too. Her mother hadn't just taught her MC protocol. She'd taught her how to survive.
The first Devil took a shotgun blast to the chest before he could get a shot off. The second managed to fire, but Rowan was already moving. She slammed the gun's stock into his face, following through with a knee to his groin. As he doubled over, she brought the weapon down on the back of his head. He dropped like a stone.
"Damn." Reed's voice held newfound respect. "Where'd you learn to move like that?"
"Family tradition," Rowan said grimly, checking her fallen opponents. Both were breathing, but they wouldn't be causing troubleanytime soon. "We need to get to the armory. They're not here just to rattle cages."
Before Reed could respond, engines roared to life outside. Through the broken window, Rowan saw several Devils' bikes peeling out of the lot. The attack was breaking off as quickly as it had started.
"This wasn't about territory," she said, mind racing. "It was a test. They wanted to see our response time, our protocols."
"And our new prospect," a deep voice added from the doorway. King stood there, his own weapon held ready, eyes taking in the scene. His gaze lingered on the Devils Rowan had taken down, then moved to her. "Seems Elena taught you more than just cooking."
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken questions. Before Rowan could respond, more brothers poured in, securing the area. Darkness was among them, moving with efficient command as he assessed the situation.
"Everyone alive?" Darkness asked, checking the fallen Devils.
"These two need medical attention," Rowan said, professional mask back in place. "Nothing fatal."
"Tiffany's on her way," Darkness replied. "She was at the hospital when it started." He glanced at the Devils, then at Rowan. "Nice work, prospect. Not many people can take down two Devils their first week."
"Speaking of Devils," Reed cut in, "we need to figure out what they were really after. This wasn't a normal hit."
King's eyes narrowed. "No. It wasn't." He turned to the gathering brothers. "Secure the perimeter. I want every inch of this property checked. And someone get Dr. Beasley on the phone. I want to know if anyone's been near those graves."
Rowan's ears pricked up at that. The graves. There was something there, something important enough for both clubs to risk open warfare. She filed it away for later investigation.
Tiffany arrived in a squeal of tires, her medical bag already in hand. She moved straight to the wounded Devils, all business despite the tension in the air. Ryder, who was normally glued to her side, was notably absent, likely at home watching the kids.
Rowan watched with interest as the ER nurse worked, her practiced hands moving with the efficiency that came from countless trauma cases at the hospital. Here was another strong woman who'd carved out her place in the MC world while maintaining her professional identity outside it.
"You should let her check you too," Reed said quietly.
Rowan looked down, surprised to find blood soaking through her shirt sleeve. Adrenaline had masked the pain of what looked like a graze wound.
"It's nothing," she started to say, but Reed was already steering her toward a chair.
"Prospects who can't admit when they're hurt don't last long," he said, his hand warm on her lower back. "Besides, gives me a chance to hear how you learned those moves."
"Didn't know you cared," Rowan said, trying to ignore how his touch seemed to burn through her shirt.
His dark eyes met hers, something dangerous lurking in their depths. "I care about a lot of things, Rowan Matthews. Including how King's long-lost daughter happens to fight like a trained killer."
Before Rowan could respond, Tiffany approached with her medical kit. The nurse's keen eyes took in both Rowan's wound and the tension between her and Reed.
"This needs cleaning," Tiffany said, already pulling out supplies. "And you need to work on your duck and cover, prospect. Darkness had to teach me that too."
Rowan held still as Tiffany cleaned and bandaged the graze. The nurse's hands were gentle but efficient. She'd clearly had plenty of practice patching up bikers. "Does this happen often?" Rowan asked. "Devils making house calls?"
"Not for years," Tiffany replied, securing the bandage. "Not since..." She glanced at Reed, who gave a slight shake of his head.
"Not since Flash," King's voice cut through the moment. He stood in the doorway, his presencefilling the room. "Dr. Beasley’s on her way. Devils hit the graveyard too. Three more graves disturbed."
Reed cursed under his breath. "Same ones as before?"
"No. Different graves this time. They're looking for something specific." King's eyes fell on Rowan's bandaged arm. "You good to ride, prospect?"
Rowan nodded, ignoring the sting. "Ready when you are."
