Wreaking Havyk (The Hounds of Zeus MC Book 4) Read online

  Wreaking Havyk

  The Hounds of Zeus MC

  Book 4

  By Faith Gibson

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2020 by Faith Gibson

  Published by: Bramblerose Press LLC

  Editor: Candice Royer

  First edition: January 2021

  Cover design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

  Cover photography: © Wander Aguiar Photography

  Cover model: Kaz van der Waard

  Dedication

  For Nikki. Thank you for everything.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A Note from The Author

  Coming Soon

  Cast of Characters

  About the Author

  Other Works by Faith Gibson

  "Now hear another monstrous sight: Beware:

  The sharp-beaked hounds of Zeus that never bark"

  ~ Aeschylus, "Prometheus Bound", 5th century BC

  Prologue

  Mercedes

  Mercedes accepted the glass of agua fresca her husband poured for her. “Gracias.” She removed her plastic sunglasses from atop her head and put them on. She didn’t wear expensive shades at the pool since the metal nosepieces tended to get caught in her hair.

  “I have business to attend, so I will be away a few days.” Juan swirled the ice in his glass before taking a sip. Mercedes turned her head his direction, giving him her full attention. This wasn’t anything new. He often went away for days at a time.

  “Te voy a extrañar,” Mercedes lied with a smile. She never missed him while he was gone. Those were the days she looked forward to most.

  Juan reached out his free hand, and she took it. As much as she loathed her husband, Mercedes cherished the moments he was gentle with her because they were few and far between. She hated the man, but she was starved for affection. Blue eyes flashed in her mind, and Mercedes smiled for real. If Juan thought the gesture was for him, all the better.

  “Yo también te voy a extrañar, Papá,” Mateo said in perfect Spanish. Her son would miss his father, and that hurt Mercedes in ways she tried not to think about too often. The boy loved the man he thought his father was. Then again, Juan had never been anything but wonderful to Mateo. Mercedes didn’t understand how one man could have two faces. Be two different types of man. The loving father who sold drugs to other people’s children. Did he not care that someone else’s child was getting hooked on the product Juan was selling? That he was enabling others to ruin their lives? All so he could live in a lavish home, drive expensive cars, wear thousand-dollar suits? Then she thought back to her own father. The man who raised her had never doted on her the way Juan did Mateo, but never in a million years would Mercedes have thought him capable of being another real-life monster.

  “Y yo te voy a extrañar, Mijo. A ti y a tu Mamá.”

  Mercedes didn’t think Juan would truly miss her. Mateo? Yes. But her? Juan didn’t spend much time with Mercedes when he was home, so his words didn’t ring true. She figured he was paying lip service so their son wouldn’t know his papa didn’t love his mama.

  One of the guards approached, staying several feet away. “Sorry to interrupt, Sir, but there’s a phone call for you.”

  Juan released her hand and stood. His phone calls always took precedence over family time. Juan wrapped his towel around his neck. He ruffled Mateo’s hair and told the boy to be good while Juan was gone. Mateo smiled up at his father and promised he would. Without a word to Mercedes, Juan strode into the house with the guard following. Mercedes let out a sigh and leaned her head back, turning it to look at her little boy. Her innocent child who had no idea the world he lived in.

  One day, Mijo. One day, I’m taking you away from here so you can live a normal life. One with friends. With family not likely to get you killed someday.

  Mateo returned to the pool, and Mercedes enjoyed these moments when it was just her and her son. And several guards watching them both. Mercedes did her best to ignore the armed men. After eight years, she should be used to their presence.

  Almost an hour had passed when Ana Marie ventured out to the pool. The older woman was more than Mateo’s nanny and tutor. She was also Mercedes’s only friend in the world. Friend was a stretch because Ana was Juan’s employee first.

  “Elena is serving lunch in the dining room. If you’d like, I’ll take Mateo in and get him dried off.”

  “That would be perfect. Gracias, Ana.”

  “De nada. Come along, Mateo.” Ana was like a grandmother to Mateo, and he loved the older woman. Without fuss, he climbed from the pool. Ana wrapped him in his towel, and the two of them made their way inside. Mercedes flipped over onto her stomach. She could enjoy a few moments of solitude before she joined them.

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the wooden deck where her chair was situated. Mercedes assumed it was one of the guards. A shadow fell across her body, indicating the person was standing beside her blocking the sun. Hmm. Maybe Juan had come back to tell her goodbye. No one else would come that close. Before she could open her eyes to see who it was, excruciating pain radiated across the back of her head. Mercedes tried to drag in a breath, but even that hurt too badly. Her vision dimmed, and she sank into darkness.

  Chapter One

  Hayden

  Hayden was not hiding out in the paint booth no matter what Kyllian said. Kyllian could suck it. The custom paint job was finished, and Hayden had no reason to be sitting on his ass against the door, but there he was. It was the only place he could be alone. When that door was closed, nobody came in to bother him. If someone needed him, they knew to text. If it was an emergency, they were to call. Otherwise, his time in the booth was his. The jobs he took building bikes outside the MC were high-paying gigs, and the work he did was often meticulous. Like the bike he had to put together and deliver to Texas. Hayden was looking forward to the trip south. Not only would he score a big payday, he would also get to spend time with his older sisters. All six of them.

  Between his parents, his four brothers, three mates, and toss in his nieces and nephews, Hayden rarely had a minute to just breathe. Normally, he didn’t mind his family, but lately, they’d noticed the change in his behavior, and they were getting worried. They shouldn’t be. Hay was just in a funk. He’d get over it. His sisters would see to it. Not Maveryck and Warryck, but his thr
ee sets of twin sisters. Hayden hadn’t seen his older siblings in several years, and he was looking forward to their brand of smothering. They learned from Rory, but where their mother would try to hug the truth out of him, his sisters just plied Hayden with food and alcohol.

  Being around his brothers, each finding their mate, was getting to Hayden. He wanted what they had. A female to come home to at night. One who would ride on the back of his Harley and laugh at his stupid jokes. One who looked at him like he’d hung the moon, yet not expect him to be a hardass biker twenty-four seven. He didn’t care if she was a badass in her own right like Natalia or a naïve virgin like Rhiannon. Even someone in the middle like Kerrigan would do. Hayden didn’t have a type. Not really. He just wanted someone to love him for him, just the way he was.

  Hayden flipped the fan off and opened the door. Thinking of Kyllian must have brought his brother to the club because he was sitting on a stool drinking a beer. “Kayos? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, dickhead. Can’t I visit because I want to?”

  “You could, but lately, you don’t.” Hayden didn’t mean to get pissy with his best friend, but lately, Kyllian had been spending all his free time at one BDSM club or another. Hayden didn’t think less of him for it, but that wasn’t Hay’s scene.

  “And that right there is why I’m here. I’ve missed hanging out with you. So, what do you say you get cleaned up, and we go out?”

  Now that Hayden was paying attention, Kyllian was dressed nicer than just jeans and boots. Instead of a basic white T-shirt, he had on a maroon button-up with the sleeves rolled up. He wasn’t wearing his kutte either.

  “I can do that. Where are we going?”

  “I was thinking the Rooftop, but if there’s somewhere else you’d rather go…”

  The Rooftop was a forty-minute drive, but it was one of Hayden’s favorite places. It was a two-story club with loud techno music downstairs, but upstairs was more laidback. Then, true to its name, the rooftop bar had a view of the city with soft jazz playing in the background, and the patrons didn’t have to yell to be heard.

  “I’d like that. Have you eaten? Because I’m starving.”

  “That’s what happens when you hole up in there all night.” Kyllian pointed at the door Hayden had just exited. Hayden rolled his eyes, refusing to take the bait.

  “Yes, but I finished, so tomorrow I can put the tank on and get the bike ready for delivery.”

  “I can’t wait to see the finished product. It’s going to be your best one yet.” Kyllian drained his beer and tossed the bottle in the recycling bin.

  “I was just thinking that same thing. Not because I did it, but because of the subject.” The airbrush design was one of the best he’d ever done, if he did say so himself. The biker who ordered it had requested a rendition of his sister who’d gone missing several years ago at the age of fifteen. Photographs were the hardest to get right, but comparing the artwork on the tank to the picture he had blown up and used as a guide, he’d nailed it. Hayden couldn’t imagine what the man was going through. Considering he lived near the Mexican border, Hayden had a feeling the girl had been kidnapped and trafficked.

  Hayden had shared the photo with Kyllian when the job first came in. “I took extra time on it because I wanted it to be perfect for the client. I can’t imagine losing you or one of the others and never knowing what happened. That shit has to eat away at a person.”

  “I feel ya. But if that were one of us, we’d tear the world apart looking. Now, come on. Let’s get out of here. As to your earlier question, no, I didn’t eat. I was waiting on you.”

  “You want to pick something up to eat and take it to mine, or you want to go somewhere?”

  Kyllian rubbed his hand together. “Go somewhere. I was thinking The Villa.”

  Hayden grinned. “I should have known. You have on your pasta shirt.”

  Kyllian frowned. “My fucking what?”

  “Your pasta shirt.” Hayden flicked his brother’s collar. “You wear it every time you eat Italian. I figured it was so the sauce blends in when you inevitably spill it.”

  Kyllian cuffed Hayden on the back of the head. “Fuck you. I do not.”

  “Bet. I’ll call Rory right now.”

  “You wanna bet me? Seriously?”

  “Fuck yeah, I do. I bet you a new tattoo of my choosing in the location I choose.”

  “And I bet you a new piercing in the location I fucking choose. Call her.”

  Hayden pulled out his phone and dialed their mom. “Hey, Baby. Everything okay?” Rory asked when she picked up.

  “Hey, Mom. Everything’s fine. But I have a question. If I told you Kayos and I were going to eat Italian, what would he be wearing?”

  “His maroon button-up.”

  Hayden cracked up at the same time Kyllian groaned. “I’m never wearing this fucking shirt again.”

  “Uh oh. Did someone lose a bet?” Rory knew her kids. All eleven of them.

  “He sure did.” Hayden turned the phone toward his brother and snapped a picture, then sent it to Rory. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

  “I love you both. Enjoy The Villa.” Rory’s knowing laughter came through the speaker before she disconnected.

  “Fuck, are we that predictable?” Kyllian asked, scowling.

  “Nah. Well, maybe you are.” Hayden jumped out of the way before his brother’s fist could connect with Hayden’s ribs.

  After going home and showering, Hayden dressed in a blue shirt that Lucy said made his eyes pop. Hayden never understood that saying, and when he told her he didn’t want it to look like his eyes were popping out of their sockets, his niece had laughed a good three minutes before explaining what it meant. It had been months since he and Kyllian had gone anywhere, and riding the backroads together was like a balm to his soul. He might not have a female to go home to at night, but he had his brother. His best friend. At least for one night.

  They didn’t look at their menus once they were seated. Dinner was predictable, with Kyllian getting spaghetti with extra meatballs, while Hayden ordered fettuccine with blackened chicken. Neither brother was a big wine drinker, but when they ate at The Villa, they each ordered one glass with dinner. It was something Ryker had taught them when they began training as mercenaries. Their older brother was not only their MC Pres, but he also led the family business. Now that Hayden had joined the fray, all five brothers were trained assassins. Hayden had only been on a few jobs. He had his customizing business to keep him busy, and he could ask top dollar for the work he did. But Hay wanted to help with the mercenary business too. It was what his family did outside of taking down The Ministry – the cult responsible for the apocalypse some thirty years ago.

  Ryker tried to talk Hayden out of joining his brothers taking merc work, but Hayden needed to be included. Maybe it was because he was the baby of the family. He’d always looked up to his father and older brothers, and he wanted to be like them from a young age. Ryker finally relented and trained Hayden. In doing so, he taught Hayden how to blend in with any group of people. Part of being a good assassin was studying the mark. Getting close enough to whomever he was supposed to kill without getting caught. Not always looking like a roughneck biker. Little things like knowing which wine to order with dinner. What makeup to use to cover the tattoos when he needed to look like every other male in the room. When a suit and tie was appropriate instead of his normal jeans and a tee. Hell, Hayden even had a couple cardigan sweaters that aided in his boy-next-door persona.

  Being Gryphons, they usually took out their marks up close with their claws instead of sitting on a rooftop across the street using a rifle. Hayden learned all about where CCTV cameras were located and how to avoid them. He now knew how to pick locks. He was proud of the work he did customizing bikes and the awards he’d won doing so, but the only time he’d felt prouder of himself was when Ryker gave Hayden his first solo assignment. Building a bike from the floor up was something he was good at, and he felt a se
nse of accomplishment after each one was handed off. Taking out the scum of the earth? That was a sense of rightness. Being a Gryphon was all about protecting humans, so being a mercenary was a step above being a shifter.

  It was after eleven by the time they arrived at The Rooftop. They strolled through the front door after paying the cover charge. The first floor was already filled with bodies dancing and grinding. Kyllian led the way, and even with the tight crowd, people parted like the Red Sea, moving out of his brother’s way. Now that Ryker had found love with Rhiannon, Kyllian had taken over the roll as broodiest brother. He was like a chameleon, though. Kyllian had always been serious, but he could change his visage to be whatever he needed in the moment. In that moment, he needed to be a bull, charging through the throngs of dancers and partiers to make it unscathed to the stairway.

  If Hayden had been alone, he would have stopped to speak to every female who tried to get their attention no matter how much the synthesized music got on his nerves. He would have stopped, not to get into bed with them all, but because he was a nice guy. Too nice most of the time. It was the one thing that had kept Ryker from training him for so long. He had been afraid Hayden didn’t have the stomach for “wet work.” Hay had no problem ending the life of a criminal. He did take issue with someone being a dick for no good reason. In ignoring the females, Kyllian wasn’t being a dick; he just knew Hayden preferred the quieter atmosphere on the roof, and he didn’t waste time getting them up there. As soon as they walked out onto the open floor, Hayden was glad his brother had taken lead. Hayden seriously hated techno music.

  “You gonna spend some time with the girls while you’re in Texas?” Kyllian asked once they had a drink in hand. “The girls” was how Rory referred to their older sisters, even though all six of them were in their eighties with kids and grandkids of their own.

  “Yes. There’s no way I’d travel so close and not visit them. I made sure to keep my schedule clear for the next couple weeks. Once I’ve dropped off the bike, I’m going to hang out with all of them for a while. Figure I could use the down time.”