(This freebie previously appeared on Stormy Glenn's ManLove Fantasies Competition for Fall 2018)
Whose idea was this again? Oh right…mine. Why did I think creating a motorcycle club with the guys was a good idea? Because tequila and my ‘never back down from a challenge’ personality don’t mix. I have to admit though the patches look good. Dean’s wife did a great job with it. The top rocker simply says, ‘The Saints’ and the bottom rocker says, ‘Nevada’. The club logo in the middle is a skeleton dressed as the pope with one bony hand raised as if to perform the catholic cross gesture. It looks badass and while I’m hesitant about stepping into the role as club president, this was my idea and I have to step up to the plate. Not that I like being the boss of people, but this is what I get for letting my mouth run off.
Being a nomadic group of paranormals has its perks. What I mean is, since each of us will live for centuries, not putting roots down anywhere means we don’t have to worry about changing identities as often because we don’t stay in one place for longer than a year. The only time we’ve ever stayed longer than that was when one of our group found a fated mate. Well, that was before I went and suggested we settle down here and form a motorcycle club. I’m the only single guy remaining. As a warlock, I have to look at a person’s aura to find my mate. If it matches mine exactly then that person is my fated mate. After centuries of looking, I’m not sure I’ll ever find the person fate designed for me. A warlock’s lifespan depends on his magical ability. The stronger the warlock the longer the life and because I’m relatively strong, I could live for more than a thousand years. I’ve actually heard of the most powerful warlocks living upwards of ten thousand years.
Looking around the table at my friends, I hold up my cut and say, “Why don’t we put these on and go for a ride?”
Dean grins and says, “Sounds good. I fixed the Bluetooth in our helmets, so we can communicate again.”
“Then let’s go.”
Standing from the table, I lead them out of the conference room we added to the bar we bought that’ll serve as our clubhouse when the additions are finished. We’ve hired a contractor to add rooms for members to sleep in if needed. The conference room addition was the first to be finished and while the backside of the place is off limits because the construction crew is still working we still have access to the rest of the place. There’s only five of us not including mates and I’m hoping once we’ve built up a reputation that more people will want to join us. Since paranormals have been exposed to humans for over ten years, we won’t have any issues with humans joining the club. While bigots will always be around those who accept paranormals outweigh the ones who don’t.
Climbing on my bike, I pull on my cut and my helmet then wait for the rest of the guys to do the same. Once we’re all ready to go, I pull out onto the road first, leading the pack as a club president should. About two miles down the road, we reach an intersection. The light is green on our side and I roar through not hearing my friends telling me to look out before it’s too late.
When I come to, everything hurts. I feel something warm staining my shirt and it’s hard to breathe. I can’t move either. Opening my mouth, I try to speak but nothing comes out. Faintly, I hear Dean’s voice saying, “Stay with us Kev. Help is on the way, stay with us.”
He sounds so far away, and I try desperately to hold on, but the darkness pulls me under. Before I completely pass out, I feel my magic well up from inside me, creating a healing stasis field. It’s happened before but only for minor injuries and lasted about two hours. This time, I fear it’ll take years before I’m back to my true self. At least, it’s warm and comforting. Better than being cold.
Thirty years later…
What is that noise? It sounds like someone is throwing a party, only their choice in music leaves much to be desired….Monster Mash? Really?
Cracking open an eye, my gaze lands on an unfamiliar ceiling. Seeing ‘The Saints’ logo on a banner attached to the wall, I know I’m probably in one of the rooms we had built at the clubhouse. Spotting the Halloween decorations surrounding the room I think to myself, Damn…it’s Halloween already? How long was I out? The last thing I remember is Dean screaming at me, telling me to look out and then everything went black. Did I crash? I must’ve. Looking down at myself, I spot the faint blue glow of my stasis field retreating back into my body. Feeling the sudden urge to go to the bathroom, I’m thankful for the decision we made to put attached bathrooms in all the rooms, so no one would have to share the ones in the bar itself. I’m also thankful that my stasis field works like a freeze chamber and I have no need for food or bathrooms while inside it. Hell, it basically stops time while I heal so my hair doesn’t grow either regardless of the length of time I spend in stasis. Hearing my stomach growl, I chuckle to myself and head for the bathroom.
Once I’ve finished using the bathroom, I walk back into the bedroom and search the drawers. Finding clean clothes, I lay them out on the bed then search the bathroom for shampoo and soap so, I can shower. Finding everything I need, I turn the water on and wait for it to heat. Stepping under the spray, I nearly groan out loud. Feels so good. I make quick work of washing up and after enjoying the warm spray a little longer, I shut off the water and step out. Grabbing a towel from the rack, I dry myself off and get dressed.
When I step out into the hallway, I quickly realize that while the room I was in is like the ones my friends and I commissioned for our clubhouse, the building is not the original one. I have no idea where I am. Seeing the Halloween decorations everywhere, I follow the hall of rooms to a set of stairs. Across from me, another set of stairs leads to a separate hallway. Jesus, this place is a fucking mansion. Looking over the railing, I see a ton of people in costumes milling about, while ‘I put a spell on you’ blares from the speakers. A lot of the men are wearing cuts, and as I walk down the stairs, I count more than fifteen. Guess the club grew in my absence.
Sneaking through the throngs of people, I make my way to the backyard and freeze when I take in the sight there. Hundreds of people fill the large expanse of lawn, most of them wearing cuts over their costumes. Feeling a pair of arms squeeze me from behind, I look over my shoulder and grin. “Dean. It’s been a while. What’s going on here?”
He hugs me tighter and says, “I thought I scented you in the hallway when I came out of the bathroom. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re awake. As for what’s going on here, it’s a club party. All the charters that could make it are here.”
“What do you mean, charters?”
“You’ve been in stasis for a long time. The Saints have spread. We have charters all over the US and a number in other countries. We’ve created an entirely new hierarchy. Our original five is still based in Nevada but we have international authority because we’re the mother charter. The first. The second club that popped up, is based here in Oregon and has national authority in the US. There are more national presidents overseas and under those national presidents we have the individual club presidents. With us being international, the national presidents consult us if they have problems they can’t handle on their own.”
“That’s a lot to take in. Just how long have I been in stasis?”
“Jesus Christ. It’s been that long?”
“Yeah…what happened to you man, was brutal. We thought you were going to die. Hell, you were nearly split in half and your leg was crushed under the bike. If your magic hadn’t put you in stasis, you’d probably be dead or at the very least, missing a limb.”
“A drunk driver blew through a red light and collided with you. We tried to warn you, but it was already too late.”
He holds out a leather bundle and says, “Here. When I scented you in the hallway, I grabbed this from my bag. I carry it with me everywhere just like I always bring you everywhere because I’ve been hoping you’d wake up and I knew if you did, you’d want to see a familiar face.”
Taking the cut from him, I admire the familiar patches and spot the new president patch. Instead of simply saying president, it says, Intl. President. As I slip it on, Dean says, “I’ve been holding your position as international VP hoping you’d one day wake up and take your rightful place.”
“How did this happen?”
“You mean, how did we spread so far?”
“Well, after your accident, we were all feeling a little lost, so we took a road trip. We put you in the back of a van and took turns driving it. At one point, we ended up in Oregon. After we’d been there for about a month, we helped another nomadic group like ours who’d recently settled outside of Portland rescue one of their own from a local gang that didn’t like the fact that a paranormal gang was moving in on the outskirts of their territory. Once the dust settled, Slade the leader of the group asked if we’d be willing to let them become a new Saints charter so if either of us ever needed anything we’d have a group to back us up. We continued travelling across the US after that and by helping others, the name of The Saints spread. We went international when members of some of the charters banded together to go help paranormals in other countries. Now, we’re about fifty charters strong and continue to grow.”
“I never thought my idea to form a motorcycle club with my friends would go so far, but I can say I’m glad it did. Knowing that you guys built this by helping others makes me think fate had a hand in what happened to me.”
“Everything does happen for a reason.”
“Now, I think you better introduce me around because I’m starting to feel like a fish out of water being surrounded by so many people I don’t know.”
Dean laughs and says, “Come on then.”
“Are you listening to me, Slade?”
Tearing my gaze from where the International VP is leading around a gorgeous stranger I’d love to get to know, I glance toward Zed, the president of the New Mexico charter. “Yeah, Zed, I’m listening.”
Zed grins and punches my arm. “You’re a terrible liar Slade. Someone caught your eye, huh?”
Dropping my empty beer bottle in the trash, I grin at Zed and nod. “I think I’m going to go say hi.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Go get him tiger.”
Rolling my eyes, I stroll through the crowd toward Dean and the stranger. Dean spots me coming toward them and grins. “Yo, Slade! Come here for a sec, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
When I reach them, a scent tickles my nose, like evergreen trees after it rains. Mine. Grinning, I shake Dean’s hand and say, “It’s good to see you again, Dean. Now tell me, who have you brought with you?”
My intentions must be written on my face because Dean laughs and says, “This is Kevin, our International President.”
Glancing at Kevin with wide-eyes, I turn back to Dean and say, “Seriously?”
Dean nods. “Seriously.”
Turning back to Kevin, I hold out my hand and have to fight the shiver of pleasure that runs through me when he takes it. I watch his violet eyes roam over me and wonder if he recognizes what we are to each other. Everyone in The Saints knows the story of our International President being a warlock who has been in stasis for years since a motorcycle accident nearly killed him. I never thought he’d end up being my mate although I’m glad for it. It’s a good thing he woke up when he did otherwise I might never have known.
A grin crosses Kevin’s features as he steps forward and says, “Why, hello there, Tigger. I think we have something to discuss.”
Feeling warmth spread through me at the nickname, I wink at him and say, “I think you’re right, Houdini.”
Kevin loops an arm through mine and whispers in my ear, “I woke up in an empty room upstairs, care to join me there so we can discuss things?”
The way he purrs the word discuss, makes me think we won’t be doing much talking, which I have to say, is more than okay with me.
Leaning towards him, I nip his ear and whisper, “My bed is bigger.”
He smacks me on the ass and grins. “Lead the way, Tigger.”
Laughing, I press a kiss to his cheek and wink, leading him toward the house. “Your wish is my command, Houdini.”
“If I said my wish was to bend you over the nearest flat surface and have my way with you, what would you say?”
“I’d say, that better be a promise you plan to keep, Houdini.”
His violet eyes darken with lust when he says, “Oh, I intend to, Tigger. I intend to. But first, I think I need to taste those lips of yours.”
Grinning, I lean toward him and say, “Taste away.”
The first brush of his lips against mine is electric and I find myself anxious for more. After tonight, we’ll have the rest of our lives together to experience everything and I can’t wait.