Page 2 of Devil Inside: Green

With his last kill, he targeted a woman in the tip of Missouri. Her crime? He snatched her on her way into a Golden Corral all-you-can-eat restaurant. A police interview said she’d been on her way in to meet up with family for her grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday celebration.

He’s heading east again. It could mean Kentucky or Tennessee. My blood boils. This man’s reign of terror has to stop.

I pack a bag, including the atlas that I use as the travel version of the map tacked to my wall, lock my apartment up tight, and run for my car. I type the address to the Bedlam Horde town of Bentley, Kentucky, into my GPS before I hit the highway.

Halfway through my sixteen-hour drive, I pull into a truck stop parking lot to grab some food and get a little shuteye. When I wake again, I have an awful kink in my neck from sleeping in my front seat. Ibuprofen helps some, but mostly, my hatred for the Bible Belt Killer keeps me going.

Bikers own the roads of the small town of Bentley. Bedlam Horde patches are everywhere, mixing with the regular townsfolk. I think I remember which road to take to get to their compound, but when I see a pair of Harleys turn onto one of them, I make life easier for myself and follow them up the mountain.

Ten minutes outside of town, I try to enter their lair but am stopped at the gate. The guy on guard looks me up and down. “You ain’t pussy. I think you’re at the wrong place, sweetheart. Best go back down the mountain.”

I square my shoulders. “Listen—” I read his name patch. It readsHorace. “Horace. My name is Danni. I’m working with your president, Vlad, to catch the Bible Belt Killer.”

“He expecting you?”

“No.”

“Then you’re not getting in.”

I feel my blood pressure rising. “I will run you over with my car if you don’t let me talk to him. Make whatever call you need to make.”

The guy pulls his phone out and presses a button. “Prez, got a bitch here says her name is Danni and that she’s working with you on the Bible Belt case?”

After listening for a moment, he hangs up his phone and opens the gate for me to pass through. “Go on in. He’ll meet you inside.”

At this time of day, a quarter of the spots are filled. I find an empty one closest to the block and corrugated metal building to park.Be confident, Danni. They won’t hurt you. You’re a strong woman who won’t take crap from any man, scary biker or not.

Easier said than done once I open the front door. The smell of old booze and cigarette smoke hits me, making my eyes water. But just as Horace on the gate said, Vlad is waiting on me, sitting at a bar stool glaring at me as I make my way over to him.

“Come on back to my office,” he says, standing from the stool, but he doesn’t wait for me to reach him before he stalks behind the bar to one of the rooms where his office is located, and I scurry to catch up. Unlike my middle management loser boss, Mr. Sasquatch, back home, Vlad doesn’t sit behind his desk in a power move. He doesn’t need to. The man exudes power out of his very masculine pores. I smell his power in the air.

He leans against the edge of the desk, his feet firmly planted on the floor with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “What brings you up from Texas?” he asks, not unfriendly, per se, but matter-of-factly.

“He’s making moves again.” I don’t specify. We both know who I’m talking about.

“We’ve been dealing with shit here at the club that had to take precedence.”

“Is that shit over?”

“For now, yes.”

“Great, then we have time.” I show him my atlas. But as I flip to the page I want, he stops me.

“You don’t call the shots with this. We do things on our time.”

“But you’renotdoing adamn thing.” Oh, yeah, I really should rein in my temper before I end up buried in the Horde backyard.

Vlad stands abruptly. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Apparently, a man who goes back on his word. I’m not part of your club. You don’t intimidate me.” Lie. Total lie. He one hundred percent intimidates me. I’m just good at hiding it.

“You think this is going to get me to help you?”

“Youaren’thelping. That’s the problem.”

The big, scary biker narrows his eyes at me in that “if looks could kill” way big, scary people have a way of perfecting. “We’re done here,” he says, and I swear I hear him growl.

“Fine. Then I guess I’m on my own. Thanks for nothing.” He can choke on whatever he’s about to say. I don’t stick around to find out. Back out in the common room, I see Aja. She was the first woman I met when I initially tracked down the Horde. And she’s visibly pregnant.

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