The Devil's Conflict
By Emily Rose
Free Chapters
PROLOGUE
VLAD War is about to begin, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it I stare at the man standing like the obedient soldier. I admit I should have had him here from the beginning, but the man has never been one to stay still for too long. That’s going to change now. Nikolai Egorov. This man is reliable, loyal, and adept with all the training he’s had at the hands of his father and uncles once they brought him back where he belongs. Now, he’s the one who is going to make sure the Devil’s Soldiers MC are out of this town for good. “I want them gone, Nikolai,” I say tightly as I get to my feet. He’s a large man, standing almost six-foot-six, keeps his hair military short, his body large and muscular, and his eyes dark and hard as he stares back at me. He nods once, saying nothing. A man of few words, and considering the last two right-hand men I’ve had, it’s a marked improvement. “I don’t care what you have to do, but make them pay.” “Done,” he answers, turns on his heel, and walks out the door. I stare after him for a moment before I turn and look out the window. The war is about to begin, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.
ONE
 SNIPER Vlad wanted a war, and he’s about to get one I manage, barely, to hold on to my temper as I stare at the dipshit in front of me. How can someone so fucking smart be so fucking stupid? It never ceases to amaze me how many people are capable of functioning in society when they are clearly a few crayons short of a full box. It makes me long to be back in the Forces at times, and there, if someone was being an idiot, I could make their lives hell until they smarted the fuck up. But now, I have to watch every fucking thing I say or I’ll get reported to the labor board, and I don’t have time for that nonsense. So instead, I grit my teeth and say, “I need you to repeat that. Because I’m not sure I heard you correctly.” The idiot in front of me, a twenty-one-year-old kid who’s about to graduate from some big fancy university, looks at me like I’m the idiot and replies, “It’s not that big of a deal. You can take it out of my next paycheck and we’ll be square.” “We’ll be square,” I repeat incredulously. “Kid, do you realize that not only did you admit to stealing money from the till so you could go out and party, but you also admitted you got access to that money by stealing a key from my office, where you shouldn’t have been in in the fucking first place? Are you fucking stupid? What kind of shit are they teaching you at that overpriced school?” His lip pokes out in a pout, his blue eyes defiant as they stare back at me. The kid is a decent bartender, but he’s always had an attitude problem, and clearly, he hasn’t figured out that shit doesn't fly around here. His shaggy brown hair falls forward into his face, which he tosses back with a flick of his head, and I know there’s no point in arguing with him. I need to cut my losses and call it good. “It’s not like this job is going to be my career,” he tosses; that defiance in his eyes leaking into his tone. “And really, you need to take some of the blame in this. If you hadn’t left your office door open, with the keys sitting right there, then maybe I wouldn’t have done it. So really, it’s your fault.” The balls on this kid are nothing short of amazing. Instead of answering him, I get to my feet, and a sense of satisfaction fills me at the unease that covers his face. My time in the Forces gives me a certain awareness, and in situations like this, it comes in handy. “I think you need to go back to grade school and start over because clearly you missed a few lessons along the way,” I tell him darkly. “Get your shit and get the fuck out. You’re fired, and your final paycheck is going to cover what you took. And if you try to show your face in here again, I’m going to make sure you get a beating you’ll never forget.” “You can’t threaten me!” he yells, jumping to his feet, incensed. “I’ll fucking report you and then you’re going to have to pay me more than I took.” “Good luck with that.” I scoff. “You really want to take on a biker club, kid? Because we don’t take too kindly to sniveling brats who steal our money.” It’s a warning that finally seems to penetrate his thick skull. He glares at me, slams the keys down on my desk, and then turns to stalk out. I shoot a quick message to Kaleb, who’s our bouncer for the night, to make sure the kid clears out without causing any problems, and then I sit down and scrub a hand over my face. Fuck, I’m too fucking old for this bullshit. I’m forty-two-years-old, and I have no patience for the attitudes I’m running up against. Not to mention, I’m short a bartender too. Along with a server because I let that bitch, Brandy, go. The amount of trouble she was causing around here wasn’t worth the headaches or complaints. She was talking shit about the club to anyone who would listen saying we aren’t anything but a bunch of wannabe bikers that know a good thing right in front of them. Namely her, considering none of our guys were willing to give her skanky ass the time of day. Her biggest mistake was saying shit about Shadow and Quinn’s little girl, Macy, within hearing distance of Rose. I fired her on the spot, but Rose took out the trash. Pretty sure she left the place missing some hair, and with a black eye when Rose was finished with her. Bullet was pissed that Rose could have hurt herself. But he agreed it needed to be done, and she was the best choice to do it. None of us will hurt a woman, but to hear that bitch talking shit about a six-year-old girl she only ever saw once in her life was the last fucking straw. Although that leaves us in a bind, we’ll figure it out. If I have to, I’ll call up Ember Rose and Ash Lincoln to borrow one of their people temporarily. First, I’ll have Cryos put out an ad and see what we can drum up. It’s a Monday night, so we won’t be too busy for a few days so we should be able to get through without too much of a problem. And there’s no point in bitching, because there’s too much work to do. I head down the hall to the main room. Most of the tables are empty, but the majority of the stools are full with our regulars. There’s a group of local businessmen in one of the booths, but they’re not paying the least bit of attention to anyone around them, so I ignore them as I head for the bar. Behind it is Sandy, a newer bartender we hired a couple months ago, who seems to be holding her own with no issue. In her late thirties, the woman is no nonsense, but has skills of someone who could work in those fancy clubs anywhere in the city. Recently divorced, with one kid in college, she’s made it clear she likes it here and isn’t going anywhere. The regulars like her. She’s just the right amount of firm and good-naturedness that they don’t get too upset if she cuts them off and sends them home in a cab when they’ve gone over their limit. She’s a good-looking woman with generous curves, doe brown eyes, and a thick head of dark brown hair, which earns her decent tips. When she first started, she suggested that she was available for some no-strings attached fun, but I shut that down firmly, albeit gently. I don’t shit where I eat, especially with employees. She took it all in good stride and has never brought it up again. Now we have a good working relationship, and that’s where I’m happy for it to stay. I walk behind the bar, and she catches my eye, then heads my way after dropping off another beer to one of the men at the other end. “He’s gone, huh?” she asks me when she stops at the register where I meet her. “Saw Kaleb walking him out, and the kid looked like he wanted to shit his pants and cry at the same time.” “He stole keys from my office and used them to steal money from the till last night,” I tell her tightly. “Didn’t even try to deny it. Had the balls to blame me for leaving the door open and the keys on the desk.” Sandy snorts. “No wonder he looked like that when he left. He probably thought you were going to murder him and bury him in a shallow grave.” “Don’t tempt me,” I mutter darkly. There are few things I tolerate, and stealing from our club isn’t one of them. And being VP, I take my responsibilities seriously. “So we’re going to be down for a few days until we can get someone else in here.” “I might be able to help with that,” Sandy offers. “Friend of mine has a daughter that just moved into town and is looking for work. She’s got experience. Want me to give her a call?” “You know anything about her?” I ask. I’m not about to hire anyone, no matter how desperately we need people. “She’s a good girl and has worked in some fancy club in Las Vegas for a while. She just got out of an abusive relationship, so she needs a fresh start. I don’t know if she’s any good at bartending, but at least she can help out until we find someone else, and she can serve.” I nod. “Alright, give her a call and see if she can come in tomorrow. If she’s interested, we’ll give her a trial run.” Sandy smiles. “Thanks, Sniper. If you’ll cover the bar, I’ll call her now.” I nod and move around her as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and heads into the kitchen to make the call. I glance around the bar and see that as always, she’s kept it clean and well stocked, so there isn’t much that needs to be done other than to wash a few glasses. I set to work on that, keeping an eye on everyone’s drinks. Most ignore me, either too intimidated to talk to me, or more interested in talking to each other. Both are fine with me. I’m not one for talking to people if I don’t have to. I save any talking for my brothers. If anyone told me I would be a part of an MC ten years ago, I’d have told them they were idiots. I was sure my career was with the Forces, and I would either die out in the middle of nowhere, or I’d retire old and cantankerous from sitting behind a desk instead of out killing the bad guys. But you know what they say about plans, because here I am, perfectly happy with my life and where I am. Sure, there are times I miss what might have been, but there is no point in feeling sorry for myself. It’s not like I asked for that bullet to the shoulder that caused permanent nerve damage. Enough that they didn’t think I was going to be able to use my left arm or hand at all, and medically discharged me. I put every damn ounce of energy and strength I had into my recovery, including months of intense physical therapy. They still didn’t want me back, but I showed them they were wrong in counting me out so fast, and that’s good enough for me. Then, of course, came the time to find a job, and that wasn’t easy. I was smart with my money though, so I had time. It was pure chance that I happened to run into Bullet the day I walked into the bar to apply for a bouncer job. Figured with my training, it would be easy enough, and that was the start of a friendship and my life as I know it. “Sniper,” someone calls, pulling me out of my thoughts and making me turn my head to see Bullet and Viper standing at the end of the bar. Thankfully, that’s the moment Sandy comes out of the kitchen and tells me, “She’ll be here tomorrow at noon to see you and do a shift as a trial run. Her name’s Katie, and she’s twenty-four.” “Good. And you’ll be around to show her the ropes?” She nods. “I’ll get here early to make sure she isn’t showing up to no one here. Since fuckwad is gone, does that mean you’re closing tomorrow night, or do you need me to work a double?” “I’ll close,” I assure her. “And if I need help, some of the brothers can jump in.” She nods. “Alright. Go do your secret club meeting and I’ll handle things out here for now. Oh, and I’ll rewash these glasses for you since your mama clearly didn’t teach you how to do it properly.” She smirks at me, and I narrow my eyes at her. “Demoting you the first chance I get,” I huff without any heat. She scoffs and brushes me away, used to my idle threat. I turn and head past Bullet and Viper, who both follow me into my office and shut the door. “Heard someone had sticky fingers around here,” Bullet drawls as he takes a seat in the chair across from me. Viper leans against the wall by the door, a scowl on his face. Our President, Bullet, is a formidable presence that few would ever think of messing with. Six-two, with hard blue eyes, salt and pepper hair, with a matching thick beard, and thick muscles, the man is in a damn good shape for his age. He’s the only remaining member of the original club, and he and our former club brother, Hammer, brought the club out of the 1%er life. The start of it was this bar, which is why I take shit seriously around here. Without it, we wouldn’t be where we are now. Viper is our club’s Treasurer, so I’m not surprised to see him here either. A six-four black man, with dreadlocks that he keeps pulled into a ponytail high on the top of his head, blue eyes that currently are hard and angry, a goatee, with wide and thick shoulders, arms, and legs, the man isn’t someone you mess with. And if he had been here when I sent the kid packing, he probably would have beat his ass on principle. He’s a damn good brother, but he takes his job of Treasurer seriously, and even one cent being gone is a personal affront to him. “We did, and I kicked his ass out. And I told him the paycheck he should have gotten today is going to cover it. The paycheck is more than he stole, but considering he won’t want a police record, he’s not going to cause problems. And I threatened to beat his ass if he did, so there’s that too,” I say with a smirk, sitting back and folding my hands over my stomach. Bullet nods. “Good. Viper, make sure you keep tabs on this prick, and if he decides to cause trouble, we’ll give him a reminder.” “Done,” Viper answers, pulling out his phone and sending a quick message to someone. I’m sure it’s Shadow, his partner at the security business they run for the club. “And I heard you might already have a replacement?” Bullet asks. I nod. “Sandy’s friend’s daughter, I guess. Got out of an abusive relationship and needs a fresh start. I’ll have Cryos run both to make sure we’re not going to have any problems. I trust Sandy, but clearly our last few hires haven’t worked out.” Bullet nods. “Let me know if we need to start asking brothers to cover some shifts. Or we can get one of the prospects to come help.” “We need to get a few more prospects,” Viper pipes in. “I know we keep saying it, but we really need to work on bringing a couple more in.” “We need prospects with life experience,” I say with a sigh. “We keep getting these eighteen-year-old kids that show up and think it’s all going to be parties, free liquor, and free pussy. They don’t want to do the work. Maybe not Crypt’s age, but definitely closer to Kaleb and Carson’s age. And if we patch Kaleb in within the next six months, that means we’ll be down to two.” “I’ll talk to Erik,” Viper offers, meaning their new receptionist/logistical person they just hired. “He might know of some other buddies that got out and are looking for something. Even if they don’t stick around forever, it would be better to have them now than not at all while we work on recruiting more.” “Could also mention it to Shadow to see if Quinn might have some suggestions,” I add. “And we should also check with Kaleb and Carson to see if they have any friends who might be interested.” “We’ll do all of that,” Bullet decrees. “You’re right. With shit going down, we don’t want to be left with too small a crew. And while Kaleb and Carson are damn fine prospects and will be equally good brothers once they’re patched in, having Crypt with his skill set is damn helpful. We get a few more with military skills and Vlad will be a thing of the past.” “Any updates on that front?” Viper asks curiously. “He’s gone too quiet for my liking.” “No,” Bullet says grimly. “But Cryos has his shit going nonstop and is constantly searching the dark web for any information he can possibly find. I’m going to call Church tomorrow and hopefully we’ll have more. But for now, make sure you keep your ears to the ground.” We discuss a few more things related to the business, when Viper’s phone goes off and he grins like an idiot. Bullet and I share a knowing look. Viper recently got together with Eden, a court reporter at the local court, and if I wasn’t convinced about Shadow’s theory that the women are planning world domination before, I am now. Eden is stunning, and she’s as crazy as the rest of them. Hell, she went after Viper’s ex and threatened to cut her throat when she found out Viper’s ex sold their son Archer to Vlad for money and her addiction. Not that I didn’t agree with her, but damn, we don’t need another crazy woman added to the mix. The Coven is strong enough already. “It’s getting really sickening watching all you lovesick fools,” I grumble, ignoring Viper when he flips me the bird and goes back to typing on his phone. I’ve always been happy as a bachelor with the ability to have some fun with women as I pleased, and seeing the brothers find women the way they have, I’m even more grateful I’m single. I don’t need that shit in my life. No-strings attached sex is far more my style. “Don’t be jealous, VP,” Viper taunts as he puts his phone away and heads for the door. “We could always hook you up with Sadie if you’re feeling lonely.” Sadie is Eden’s best friend, and she’s just as crazy, if not crazier, than Eden herself. “No thanks, brother,” I tell him firmly. “I have no desire to have that ball of crazy in my bed.” Sadie’s stunning, but she is definitely not my type. Not to mention, she’s far too young for me. Viper shrugs. “The crazy ones are the fun ones, brother. Now, I have my woman to get to, so I’ll see you assholes later.” Bullet looks back at me. “You good, or you need me to call someone in to help close up?” “Nah, we’re fine. It’s a slow night.” He nods. “Then I’m heading home. I have my own woman to see to.” “And a drawer full of crazy sex toys from what I hear,” I joke with a wicked grin. Bullet scowls, flips me off, and then leaves, making me chuckle. Hell, it’s become a game to the women to see what they can buy to try and have Rose shock Bullet. The man has far stronger nerves than I do, because when the double dildo showed up at the clubhouse the other day, I’d have said fuck it and become a hermit in the woods. Probably a better option than dealing with the women and their games. Though it’s funny as shit to watch. I get to work on the dreaded paperwork that’s been lying on my desk for the last couple of days, and also shoot Cryos a message to let him know about our potential hire. Hopefully she’s good enough, because come Friday night, this place is going to be busy as shit, and I don’t want to deal with someone who can’t handle the stress. When I finally finish, it’s close to midnight, and my eyes are burning from looking at the computer for so long. Fuck, I hate this part of the job. I get to my feet and head into the bar, which still isn’t all that busy, and Sandy seems to be handling it just fine. I feel a small tinge of guilt that I wasn’t out here helping, but she’s proven to be more than capable on her own. And she always comes to get me if she needs the help. Seeing that she has things under control, I head back to my office to finish up on other things I’ve been putting off. Seems like a night for annoying shit. I’m about to sit when I hear the shots. It’s a sound you never forget as a solider, no matter what branch you’re in, and my body is moving before my brain has time to process. I hear the screams and glass shattering. “Everybody, down!” I roar over the chaos. I crouch as I reach the end of the hall, pulling my gun and running for the side door. More bullets fly through the shattered windows, hitting everything in their path. My sole focus is getting outside and finding out who the fuck would dare to shoot up our bar. Though I have a feeling I already know. When I get outside, I see a black SUV and the open windows. I fire off a shot at the back window, following it up quickly with a shot to the tires, missing and instead hitting the fender. Then I hear more shots, and I realize Kaleb is also shooting, though his shot isn’t as good as mine. The shots stop from the SUV, and it peels away, tires screaming and the night goes silent. I run after them, firing more shots, even as I hear the sirens coming. It’s too dark to try and get their plate, but it probably wouldn’t come back to anything. I pull out my phone and call Bullet. “Looks like the war has started,” I tell him grimly when he answers. “Bar just got shot up. Better get the brothers here.”