* * *
I meetthe guys on the terrace and blink in astonishment at the feast laid out before us. Two uniformed men standing to the side to serve us anything we wish. It’s another world, definitely not the MC world, and once again I wonder who the fuck these people are.
Snake grins as I approach. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“It sure is.”
Blade is wolfing down a huge plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, and pancakes, and my mouth waters.
“I could get used to this.”
“We all could.” Ryder nods. “It’s impressive, for sure. The Angels run things very differently than the usual MC club.”
“You can say that again.”
Creed stares around him with wide eyes.
“Perhaps we should take a few ideas back with us.”
Snake snorts. “In your dreams, soldier. Enjoy this while it lasts; we’re changing nothing.”
Creed groans, causing Blade to chuckle, and as we fall on the food like savages, I wonder what the day will bring.
* * *
Just before 10 a.m,the suited man appears, and we stare at him with expectation. For some reason, excitement ripples through me because I am interested in meeting our hosts, given the cryptic comments from Ryder and Snake and the sheer opulenceof this place. I am intrigued by The Wild Angels, and so as I scrape back my chair and follow the man, my heart beats with anticipation.
We don’t head into the main house. Instead, we follow the path where a huge white marble structure rises up near the lake, a mini replica of the main house but obviously used as their operational headquarters.
There is no noise anywhere. Even my brothers are unusually silent, taking it all in, scanning the horizon for trouble as we do on autopilot.
We reach a huge wooden door; at least it appears wooden, and as the man dials in a code, it swings inward, revealing a dark, paneled entrance.
The vibe here is dark. The temperature cool, air conditioning turned down, causing my skin to prickle.
There is no sound, merely the dull tread of our boots, and as we follow the man to a set of double doors at the end, I’m on high alert.
Ryder and Snake say nothing. Blade and Creed appear as interested as I am. As the door opens, the man steps to one side and says in a low tone, “Angel will see you now.”
As we head inside the room, there is a huge round table in the middle of a space that is lit by discreet lighting, with no natural light at all. The walls are crowded with art, dark, chaotic, mad even. Tortured images, deathly demons, and glorious angels serene and enchanting.
The huge table is inlaid with a design. A round circle in the middle, with arrows pointing to five chairs. I note the shapes sitting in the chairs. Their gazes piercing, their identities disguised behind face masks printed with skeletal features. The mood ominous, the vibe dark.
Ryder steps forward and addresses the room and doesn’t direct his conversation to anyone in particular.
“It’s good to be here, Angel. We appreciate your hospitality.”
One of the guys speaks, his voice husky, his tone neutral.
“We are honored, Ryder. Please take a seat along with your men.”
There are exactly the right number of seats spread around the table, the Angels facing us in a semi-circle.
I sense their interest as we face them, and Ryder’s voice is deep, controlling, assertive.
“There is a gala tonight in the city. Santiago has been invited as guest of honor relating to his new charitable foundation. We believe he will be escorted by our club member. She will not be doing it willingly.”
Another low voice speaks up.