The Transporter's Favor C.M. Simpson (most motivational books .TXT) 📖

Derevo looked down at me.

“Wolves didn’t say exactly how alive you had to be,” he said.

I tried to work out which one of him was real, and if I could haul it down onto the deck with a leg sweep. His mouth twitched into a facsimile of a smile and he sank a boot into my side, sliding his toe under me so he lifted and threw me into a wall, rather than doing something nasty to my innards. I supposed I should be grateful for that, but I wasn’t.

“Bastard!”

And that goddamn dog! He just looked at me, looked up at Sasha and made a sound that asked if all that had been necessary. Well, hell no, Cas! Why don’t you take a piece out of both of them?

Which earned me a really puzzled look, until Sasha snapped his leash tight, and dragged him further along the corridor. Derevo looked at me. Actually, three Derevo’s looked at me, and every single one of those sons of bitches tilted their heads on one side, in just the same way Pritchard did, when he was about to ask me if I’d…

“Had enough?”

Yeah, that.

I sighed and slumped back against the wall, not even bothering to try a head butt, as he bent down to pick me up.

“Stars, girl! You’ve put on weight!”

As if he’d know.

This time, I just hung over his shoulder and wished I didn’t hurt so much. Why was I doing this again?

“Because you need Mack back, as much as the dog needs his boy.”

Which was a weird ass thing for a bounty hunter to say. Particularly one I’d never met. I mean, how the fuck did he know?

“Shut it, Cutter—or do I need to make you bleed?”

Well, hell no, he didn’t. I’d bled enough.

We travelled in silence, after that, Derevo clearly not a conversationalist, and me wondering just how much trouble I’d be in if I let myself throw up down his back.

“Why don’t you try it?” came back through the implant, along with a sense of threat I didn’t want to explore.

“Maybe later, asshole.”

“How about you mind your language?”

I couldn’t help it.

“Or what?”

The swift punch of a knife blade into my thigh dragged a sharp bark of pain out of me.

“How about that?”

Oh. Stars… I wondered how he was going to explain that to the Wolves.

“We’ve got a tank on board,” he said. “If you’re really good, we might even put you in it.”

Oh. Kaaay. I wondered if Sasha knew exactly how much of a psycho kitty she had in a partner, and followed that by trying to work out how the pair was so successful as hunters. I mean, Derevo had quite the temper. How did Sasha get any of her catches back to their patrons, with this goon in tow?

“I am so glad you’re not going to remember this.”

Derevo’s thought struck me as odd, but I had no time to contemplate it, as he twisted the knife. Sasha’s response came as soon as my scream died away.

“By the seventh sun, Rev! Did you have to?”

His shrug rolled under my gut, like a nonchalant wave. Pain followed in a not-so-nonchalant wave, slamming through my leg, and leaving me shaking. Cold and numbness were better, but not by much. I was in a world of hurt, and the conversation between Derevo and Sasha came from somewhere very far away.

“She got sassy!”

“Well, she’s not looking sassy, now. I swear, the tank repayments are coming out of your share!”

“Hey!”

There was a smirk in Sasha’s tone, as she answered Derevo’s protest.

“This time, anyway. See? Dog is perfectly fine.”

“Dog is perfectly behaved.”

No fair. I hadn’t been doing anything!

Pressure ran through the blade, parting the numbness with cold fire, and I choked back a sob, trying to stay perfectly still, trying not to breathe.

“How about trying to apologize?” Derevo suggested, softly.

I thought about telling him to shove it, but the knife shifted, and I was apologizing before I’d finished the thought.

“See? You can do it.”

I could? Wow… That was so cool…

“You ass!” Sasha said. “Now, she does need the tank.”

Sure… Put me in a tank. I was a fish.

And they did. Quickly. Before the shock and adrenaline wore off. Can’t say I was very lucid, but it was an interesting ride. Nanites and pain killers had taken effect by the time a third guy walked through the cabin. He tapped on the plastiglass of the tank with his fingers as he passed.

“Hang in there, Cutter.”

Like. For real? As if he cared!

That almost earned me a look, but the hesitation in his stride was soon overridden as he hit the cockpit.

“Heya, sweetheart,” he said, and I watched as Sasha came into view, the open doorway framing the two of them.

Hell, I guess, even psychopaths needed to be loved. I mean, why not make the happy duo a threesome? I wondered where Derevo fitted in. That earned me two sharp glances from the cockpit, and I realized the new guy might be just as much a psychopath as the rest of them. Damn, I’d had warmer looks from the arach, and that was when they’d been in spider form!

That last thought earned me a brief, humorless smile.

“Maybe you should let the Reaver have her,” he suggested. “I’m not sure the wolves would care.”

Sasha stared at me like she was taking the thought seriously, and I wondered why I really hoped the wolves had been clear in their contract about not being offered the left overs of some psycho bunny’s meal. Derevo had… I felt files split open in my head, and nausea threaten to engulf me.

Man had proclivities that I desperately wanted to avoid being a part of.

Something tapped on the glass and I tried very hard not to look towards it. I was pretty sure what I’d find when I did, and I was nowhere near ready for it. The tapping came, again, and Sasha and her guy started smirking—and then they reached out, and pulled the cockpit door