Dark Glitter (Wild Hunt Motorcycle Club #1)

“The sage?” I asked and Reece chuckled, reaching out and teasing the edge of the will-o-the-wisp’s light with his rough fingertips. I could still feel those fingertips on my head, encouraging me to take his cock, on my hips as he lifted me onto the counter … I shivered and glanced away.

There’d be time for sex later.

“The sage is Arlo’s Paw-Paw,” Reece explained, hauling himself to his feet with a groan and lifting his arms above his head with a yawn. “He lives in da bayou and he don’t just invite anybody to come pay him a visit, ‘specially not his own grandson.”

“I don’t have any want or need to visit the crazy old coot,” Arlo said, as if he didn’t much care either way if we went. I let Reece take my hand and haul me to my feet, managing to look over and catch just a brief glimpse of Arlo’s hands shaking as he smoked his cigarette. He tossed the still burning butt into the water and made me frown before turning and heading for the open door of the clubhouse. “Goddess’ tits, I need a fucking drink.”

“You shouldn’t litter,” I warned him, calling out from my tippy toes. He ignored me as I turned and plucked the butt from the water, dropping it into a rusted, dented coffee can near the door. It was clearly intended to be used as an ashtray but was overflowing onto the dock. Somebody needed to get out here and sweep. “He shouldn’t litter; it goes against every aspect of his nature.”

“He does it on purpose, just to see if he can,” Killian purred as the will-o-the-wisp danced around my head like a halo. “Now, should I get the airboat ready?”

“I thought the boys took the airboat for their business?” I asked, watching as both Killian and Reece smiled.

“Girl, dis is da bayou, and there’s only one way to get around out dere and let me tell ya—it ain’t on the back of no hog.”



I sat at the front of the airboat with my mouth closed tight, my head whipping every which way as I tried to take it all in. It was dark out, but the Veil Keeper’s eyes had mighty fine night vision, at least ten times as good as anything I’d experienced as Ciarah. I tried not to think how that was a boon now … and had been a horror before.

Even trapped in the dark, I’d been able to see things I hadn’t wanted to see. At least … when my eyes had still worked … They’d been seared and blinded … healed and seared again …

I clenched my jaw tight and held a hand over my stomach. I couldn’t throw up right now, not with the small rickety metal boat gliding as fast as it was. It would all come back on us, and I didn’t think me or a single one of my four companions would appreciate that. Besides, the reason my mouth was clenched so tight was because I’d already learned a very important lesson about how many insects made their home out here in the bayou. We’d also driven through some very impressive spiderwebs, and I felt like my hair was crawling. Not that I had a problem with spiders though, because I distinctly did not. Everything out here had its place. If anything, we were the intruders.

Reece killed the boat’s engine at the edge of some swampy marshland. At first glance, it looked solid but as we drifted, I saw in shafts of moonlight that it was nothing more than mud on water. Yanking my ear muffs down to my neck, I stood up and the entire boat rocked violently.

“Careful there, Gardien,” Reece said with a chuckle, “you don’ wanna go swimmin’ in the bayou at this time o’ da night.”

“We’re here?” I asked and I swear, his grins were so big, so full of emotion, that I could just feel the expression behind me.

“We’re here,” he said, and then used a rope to tie us to the gnarled limb of a nearby tree.

As I watched, Reece stepped down with one massive boot and sunk about an inch into the muck before it seemed like he settled on something solid.

“C’mere, girl, and you best watch old Reece if you don’ wanna end up takin’ a swim with Meme and her brudders.”

He reached out for my hand and helped me from the boat. I found my footing easily enough in the motorcycle boots the boys had encouraged me to wear, the thick soles perched on what seemed to be a sunken block of cement?

Reece led me through the tangled mess of tree limbs and clumps of hanging moss, taking out all the spiderwebs for me, like a real gentleman. Killian followed close behind, and then Amelie, and lastly, Arlo. I was pretty sure I could hear him cursing under his breath as we walked through the muck, massive lily pads slapping me in the calves as we moved, stirring up the water. I felt something slither between my legs, and I was almost certain it was a snake.

“Here we go,” Reece said, pulling me up onto the edge of a small island. It was so small, in fact, that I could easily see the entire thing from where I stood, even in the darkness. It was hardly large enough to hold both our group and the bald cypress tree that stood sentinel over it.

“Sir,” Arlo spat, like he’d rather chew on a piece of dried shit. “What do you want?”

A creaking sound echoed through the woods and chills skittered down my spine as I felt a movement of great power, ancient power, almost as old as I was. She was? Ciarah had been nineteen when she died. Those years of torture had felt like a hundred years, but my best guess estimate for how long I’d suffered … was five. So, I was twenty-four then?

“You young fool,” a man’s voice croaked, hoarse and brittle with disuse. At first, I thought the tree was speaking to us, but then the gnarled roots spread and a man appeared, curled on his side with horns as white as his grandson’s. Unlike his grandson however, his face was ancient as time, dressed in wrinkles, and puckered with distaste. His beard was made of moss and his eyes were the sage green of dried leaves.

He sat up and yawned, his old body covered in ink and faintly glowing. His skin was as silver as Arlo’s was without his glamour and as I watched, the will-o-the-wisp flitted over to him and settled itself on a nearby branch. Well, as much as a glowing ball of light could settle itself …

“You do wise to show respect, young buck,” he cautioned Arlo, who simply ground his teeth together and glared.

“Keeper,” the ancient fae greeted me, rising to his feet and towering over both me and my companions, “at last.”

“Hello,” I squeaked, more than a little intimidated by this creature. Somewhere inside me, though, I sensed he was one to trust. The Sage had not always been on the side of good—whatever that was—but this one was.

“It has been a very long time,” the Sage hummed and scratched at his moss-beard, causing little bits of greenery to flake off, “since your pretty face has graced this world. How have you been adjusting?”

Arlo snorted but I ignored him, my interest locked on the Sage and his fascinating appearance. “I've been… confused,” I admitted, and the moss covered man nodded … well … sagely.

“Understandable, given your ancient knowledge has been stripped from your very being.” He tapped at his lips with a finger that vaguely resembled a twig.

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