Sting (Iron Tzars MC 1)

Sting (Iron Tzars MC 1)
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Marteeka Karland

Sting

I had no intention of making a trip to Florida for Christmas. I had too Goddamned much to do. Despite Warlock -- the old president of Iron Tzars and my father -- letting his ol’ lady manipulate him enough to get the government breathing down our necks, he’d left the club in very good shape. There was no trace of evidence to suggest we’d ever possessed anything from or had any sort of communication with Argent Tech.

The main problem was the division within the ranks. Bev had done a number on several of our members, and I knew there would be some I had to cut. The problem was how to do it. It didn’t feel right kicking them out. It wasn’t their fault Bev got into their heads. Besides, most of them were younger members or prospects. The older ones knew better. Which was why I found myself rolling into the Black Reign compound on Christmas Day.

“Welcome!” The one they called El Diablo greeted us with a smile and open arms. He was dressed smartly in an expensive-looking suit with diamond-and-gold cufflinks and rings and a lapel pin. He looked like anything other than the president of a motorcycle club. “To what do we owe this great honor?”

I raised an eyebrow. Was this guy for real? I’d known Black Reign was a different sort of MC, but I wasn’t expecting this.

“Merry Christmas, El Diablo. I trust your holiday’s been good?”

The other man chuckled. “It was very entertaining indeed. Have you come to see Warlock? I’ll have someone get him if you have. He’s…” He grinned widely. “Otherwise occupied this morning.”

“I would have given you a heads up, but I wasn’t sure I was coming till I rolled through the gates.” The second I uttered the words, no matter how true, I knew they were a mistake. An MC president didn’t just decide to take a road trip to another club. And he certainly didn’t roll in on a whim. Especially when the club he rolls into isn’t an ally. I stifled my wince. Barely.

Instantly El Diablo’s demeanor changed. His features hardened, and I realized why he called himself The Devil. “Not a strong position for the new leader of an MC the likes of Iron Tzars.”

“Don’t question my abilities.” I did my best to mimic my father’s deadly tone, knowing I’d shown a weakness to someone who might be an ally, but was certainly no friend. A mistake. One I couldn’t afford.

“Don’t give me reason to.” There was a brief silence while El Diablo and I stared at each other. I imagined he was sizing me up. I knew I was sizing him up. Underneath that cultured civility was a straight-up killer. I’d dealt with deadly men before. Nature of the beast. But none quite like El Diablo. Even dressed as elegantly as he was, it was easy to believe a killer lurked underneath all his civility. “Now. Tell me the reason for your visit.” His mood shifted quicker than shifting sands. The last thing I wanted was to be in too deep with this man or his club, but I wanted my father’s advice on this without anyone knowing I was seeking his advice. Since El Diablo had effectively taken away the option of killing Warlock, though I was grateful not to have to kill my own father, I felt like coming here now put me on the wrong side of a debt to this man and his club.

“I need to talk to Warlock.”

He smiled. “I figured as much. I sent Rycks to bring him down.”

“You said he was otherwise occupied. What does that mean?”

“It means he has a Christmas present of his own he’s… unwrapping, shall we say.” The slight but clipped British accent was messing with my fucking head. He didn’t look or sound like an MC president. Hell, he didn’t sound like anything to do with an MC at all.

“Rycks?”

“My right hand.”

“The VP?”

El Diablo smiled. “No. He’s a trusted friend. One who’s been with me a very long time. I rely on him and Archangel to take care of… shall we say, emotional issues that arise in the club.” He raised a finger in the air and waved it in a decree. “I’d advise you to have one of your own, Sting. Level heads are very necessary in emotional situations.”

“Are you always like this?” I was growing irritated with the other man. I needed to talk to my father. Communicating with him on the phone wasn’t something I wanted to do in this matter. I had to have a place to send some of these guys, and he was the only person I trusted to give me an opinion on how to handle this.

He chuckled. “No. I’m usually worse.”

“Warlock’s on his way.” A man came up beside El Diablo. Though I was sure he spoke to the Black Reign president, he looked straight at me. “Told him who his guest was.”

“Good! Take him to my office. Warlock and Sting need a quiet place to talk.”

“Your office.” Though I didn’t want to openly show my surprise, it was hard. Why in the world would he open up his office to us? Seemed like a risk on his part, but who was I to argue.

“Yes. Warlock has agreed to be my Enforcer. If I can’t trust him, there aren’t many here I can trust.”

If the man was looking to shatter my control, he did it with that. There was no way to school my expression. I was glad my father had found a place he felt he belonged, but to have him diving back into the inner workings of another club was out of character.

“Does that surprise you, Sting?” El Diablo tilted his head, studying me closely. I hated his attention focused on me. I was making every mistake I could make with this man, letting him see my emotions.

“I think you know it does.”

“Well. If it makes you feel better, he fought me on it.” The fucker grinned, obviously enjoying this meeting.

“You seem to be enjoying this. Is everyone here for your amusement, or is it just me?” I needed to talk to my dad, but I’d rather meet up on neutral territory if this guy was going to be poking at me the entire time.

“It’s not just you, Sting.” Warlock entered the room, a woman with him. He held her hand firmly in his. She was little more than a girl, but the way she clung to Warlock left no doubt she was with him. It was one more shock to set my teeth on edge. Also, one more failure in a long line of them on my part in the few minutes I’d been here. El Diablo knew he was getting under my skin, and he thought he knew I disapproved of Warlock’s new position within the club and, now, also the woman he was with. He’d have been wrong, but I knew it had to look that way. “Come with me.”