Demon Motorcycle Club Novels & Stories

“And Crow.” Penny paused as she looked around at all of them, while feeling doubtful about these being their real names. “They have some unusual names.” Kizzy laughed. “They’re an MC.” Penny stared at her. “A what?” “An MC, lady,” the one called Greer stated. “Motorcycle club. You know. Bikers?” Her eyes rounded. “Why would Williams be with…” She shook her head. “Ok, well, I know of the man with the scar. Man, do I know of him. He’s the worst of the lot from what I understand.”

“Don’t wait up for me tonight. It’ll be very late.” On my way out of the house, I called Damien again. “Everything set up?” “Yes, everyone’s on their way.” “Have our watchers said anything about movement in the clubhouse?” “They seem to have a meeting. All the bikes are in front of the club.” Now that Rico had destroyed an entire chapter in cold blood, the retribution of the MC was only a matter of time. They were volatile, bound by fewer rules than us. It was part of my life I didn’t want Sofia, Stefan, or Valentina to be part of. I’d do my best to protect them from it.

It was as if nature was holding its breath, anticipating a destructive event or the arrival of a predator. Most of the club members were already inside. Their bikes lined parallel to the saloon’s long wooden porch. Our MC had claimed Diablerie as their own when Harris, the owner, opened his doors decades ago. The clever name went synonymously with the black magic lore of a wolf shifter.

He asked, turning to face them. “What could the queen’s man possibly want to know about us?” Margo asked, tossing back a shot of whiskey. “How did the two of you end up affiliated with a motorcycle club?” He asked, trying not to laugh at the jab she had directed at him. “I was born into it?” Margo sighed, pouring herself another shot. “I got into it because we grew up together. Motorcycle clubs aren’t all bad, ya know. Why do you ask?” Dex sighed, sipping his beer.

Finds a woman who pretends to love him and all that he’s worth and then in a week or two he finds her with some other brother in the club. Not me though. I haven't been with a biker bunny or club whore for years. At 35, I'm tired of the same old shit. My names Damian by the way, but everyone around here just calls my Prez. Yea I'm the president of this MC. Were not a 1% club but we aren't afraid of anything that fucks with whats ours.

she looked at me and I nodded. "My Uncle Bruce was a member of the Demon Riders MC." she added quietly. Joker gasped along with Blade while Dom, Decker, Jaden and Ash looked confused. Thrash closed his eyes and muttered a curse. "Who are the Demon Riders?" Dom demanded. "Yeah, I've never heard of them and we've had business with every MC in the area." Decker added.

I quickly supplied them with information. “Ok so he is a biker that’s good to know what does his patch look like?” The woman asked me. “His group is called the Devil’s Jesters. They have a big skull on the back with like a clown hat on the skull” I could see that as I started to explain the motorcycle club that this woman had some idea who she was dealing with.

“That’s AIDS! You’re harming someone’s life!” “I saw how your son disturbed others during the movie! He even stabbed someone with a needle! That’s really despicable, how could a child be this evil?”

“It only tightens the chain.” Behind her, the older Templar Malric approached, armor whispering against his robes. “You pity them,” he said quietly, echoing the thought that had plagued her subordinates for weeks. “The witch and the demon. You speak of them as though they were kin.” Selene rose, dusting ash from her gloves. “Pity?” she repeated. “No. I envy them.” Malric’s brow furrowed. “Envy, my lady?” “They are what the Covenant was meant to become,” she said, voice low and calm. “Fire and shadow in perfect balance. Power without the leash of divinity or law.” She turned toward the canyon’s heart. “And that makes them dangerous.”

“Just trying to figure out these goddamned… these gosh-darned cribs. They all look the same, you see.” Bianca Morgan stared at the three of them, even more taken aback than her daughter at what was standing in front of her. All three men were sporting tattoos and huge boots, they were all wearing matching leather vest things with patches that read ‘Road Devils’. She almost passed out when she realized that she was face-to-face with real, live motorcycle gang members. The urge to grab her daughter and run was pretty strong, but she didn’t want to piss them off. “You’re – you’re crib shopping?” Bianca asked them, aiming for terrified politeness. “For – for one of your babies?”