THE VULTURE AND THE SERPENT BIKERS

THE NIGHT HE DISAPPEARED The last thing my brother ever said to me was, “Don’t trust the man on the motorcycle.” Three hours later, he was gone. And by sunrise, my father had declared war. I stared at the empty driveway through the kitchen window, my fingers wrapped so tightly around the coffee mug that the heat should have burned me. It didn't. Nothing could cut through the cold spreading inside my chest. Daniel's motorcycle was still there. His helmet wasn't. That was the first thing that felt wrong. The second was the blood. A single dark smear streaked across the concrete beside his bike. My breath caught. “Dad.” I didn't recognize my own voice. It sounded small. Terrified. I dropped the mug. It shattered against the tiled floor. My father came running from the hallway, two of his men right behind him. “What happened?” I pointed toward the driveway. For one second, nobody moved. Then my father's entire face changed. He walked outside. I followed. “Lena, stay inside,” one of his men ordered. I ignored him. I had never been good at obeying orders. Especially when they involved my family. My father crouched beside the bloodstain. He touched two fingers to it. Then he looked at them. His jaw tightened. “It's fresh.” My stomach twisted. “Where's Daniel?” He didn't answer. “Dad.” Still nothing. “WHERE IS MY BROTHER?” My father's eyes lifted toward me. And that was when I knew. Something terrible had happened. Daniel wasn't coming home. Not this morning. Maybe not ever. “Get everyone up,” my father said quietly. The men around him immediately straightened. “Call every Serpent.” One of them pulled out his phone. My father stood. His expression had become something I had seen only a handful of times in my life. Murderous. “Someone took my son.” The words knocked the air out of me. “No.” “Lena—” “No.” I shook my head. “No, Daniel wouldn't just disappear.” “He didn't.” My father looked toward the road. “They took him.” My heart slammed against my ribs. “Who?” Silence. Then my father's eyes met mine. “The Black Vultures.” The name hit me like a slap. The Black Vultures. Our enemies. Our blood enemies. For as long as I could remember, that name had been synonymous with violence. Murder. Betrayal. War. I had grown up hearing stories about them. How they had taken territory from us. How they had killed Serpents. How they had ambushed my uncle years ago. And above all— Ryder Kane. The Vultures' heir. The man everyone warned me about. I had never met him. But I knew his name. Everyone did. “Are you sure?” I whispered. My father looked at me. “They left a message.” My blood ran cold. “What message?” He didn't answer. Instead, he walked toward Daniel's motorcycle. Something was attached to the handlebar. A black strip of leather. Stamped into it was a silver bird. A vulture. My knees nearly gave out. “They want us to know it was them,” my father said. I stared at the symbol. “Why would they take Daniel?” My father pulled the leather strip free. “Because they want me angry.” “And you're going to give them exactly what they want?” His eyes hardened. “They took my son.” “Dad—” “I'll burn every Vulture clubhouse to the ground if that's what it takes to get him back.” “No.” The word escaped me before I could stop it. Everyone turned toward me. I stepped closer to my father. “You can't just start a war.” His expression softened for half a second. “You don't understand.” “Then make me understand.” “They have your brother.” “Then we find him.” “We will.” “Without killing everyone who rides a black motorcycle?” My father didn't answer. That was answer enough. I swallowed. “Daniel is alive.” My father looked away. I needed him to say it. I needed someone to say it. “Dad.” “He's alive.” The certainty in his voice sounded forced. But I clung to it anyway. “He's alive,” I repeated. “Yes.” I nodded. Then I looked back at the road. Somewhere out there, my brother was waiting for us. And whoever had taken him had made one mistake. They had taken him from the wrong family. Because my father would tear this city apart to get him back. And I would do worse. By noon, the Iron Serpents were preparing for war. Black motorcycles lined the property. Men in leather vests moved through the compound with loaded weapons tucked beneath their jackets. Phones rang. Engines roared. Orders were shouted. Everyone was getting ready to attack the Black Vultures. Everyone except me. I sat on the edge of Daniel's bed, staring at his room. His jacket was hanging over the chair. His favorite boots were beneath the desk. His half-finished bottle of whiskey sat beside his bed. Everything looked normal. Except Daniel wasn't there. I picked up his phone. It was dead. I pressed the power button anyway. Nothing. I closed my eyes. Think. Daniel had enemies. Everyone in our world did. But the Black Vultures? They wouldn't leave a symbol behind. Not like this. It felt too obvious. Too convenient. My father had taught me something when I was a child. If something looks exactly like what you expect, look twice. I stood. I opened Daniel's closet. Nothing. His desk. Nothing. His drawers. Nothing. Then I noticed something beneath his mattress. A piece of paper. I pulled it out. There were only three words written across it. DON'T TRUST THEM. My heart stopped. Them who? The Serpents? The Vultures? Or whoever had taken him? A sound came from outside. Motorcycles. I rushed to the window. Three black bikes pulled through the gates. My heart hammered. One rider climbed off. Then another. Then a third. My father appeared in the courtyard. His men immediately reached for their weapons. I couldn't hear what was being said. But I saw the tension. Then the middle rider removed his helmet. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Black leather vest. And a face that somehow looked even more dangerous than the stories had prepared me for. My breath caught. I didn't know him. But I knew exactly who he was. Ryder Kane. The Black Vultures' heir. My father's greatest enemy. And the man I had been raised to hate. His eyes lifted. Straight toward my window. Straight toward me. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then Ryder's expression changed. Not fear. Not surprise. Something darker. Recognition. He said something to my father. My father stepped forward. And then Ryder pointed directly at me. My stomach dropped. What the hell did he want with me? My father turned toward the house. His eyes found mine through the glass. And even from upstairs, I could read the warning on his face. Stay away from him. But it was already too late. Because Ryder Kane was staring at me like he knew something I didn't. And somehow, I knew one thing with absolute certainty. My brother's k********g had nothing to do with the fact that Ryder had come here. It had everything to do with it. And before this night was over, I was going to find out why.