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

Well. Fuck. Me.

He missed, but those had been fast—and he hadn’t missed by much. I countered, coming in, and trying to sweep his feet out from under him. Damn! When had the little fucker grown so goddamn big?

My ankle hit solid rock, and then he lifted his leg and brought his foot down, hard. If the little turd muncher had been wearing anything on his feet, I’da had a broken shin. As it was, I lost the momentum and had little choice but to hit the floor on my ass, and then curl along my leg, grab him round the calves and pull.

He went over like a rack of cards, and I used the resistance to pull myself up, but instead of getting back onto my feet and waiting for him to recover, I pulled myself forward, and followed him into the fall, landing astride his torso.

Which was as far as I got, because I’d forgotten Tens relied on speed, and had been the kid’s main sparring partner and combat trainer. Well, hot damn!

He cracked me a solid hit in the side of the head, and I heard myself laugh—and I don’t mean the happy kind. I mean the kind that battle brings. I ducked the next swing, and landed a fist in his ribs—and it was Rohan’s turn to laugh.

Worry flashed through my head, but it wasn’t mine.

Ro didn’t try to smack me again, but he placed his hands on my shoulders, and jack-knifed up to smash his forehead into mine.

Two voices started cursing as I saw stars, and grabbed hold of the boy’s shirt.

“Little bastard,” I said, sliding a forearm across his throat and tightening the grip of my legs on his chest.

“Yuh think?” he retorted, and tried to dislodge me.

The first lurch wasn’t enough, and I risked letting go long enough to raise an open hand, while trying to keep the pressure on his throat. The second lurch sent the blow off course, so I ended up hitting his cheek instead of landing it over his ear. After that, it was a matter of trying to counter-balance him… which wasn’t going to happen.

He rolled us, going for top, but I kept the roll going—which would have worked a lot better if we hadn’t found the wall at the end of the room. Well, that hurt. We rebounded and rolled apart, staggering to our feet, me pulling my arms tight in to my side, and dancing back, as he took a wild swing that might have taken my head off if it had connected.

I heard Tens groan in disgust, but moved in to take advantage of the wide, open torso in front of me. Two hits to the gut were meant to be followed by a shoulder charge that pushed him back into the wall, except for the fact he grabbed both my shoulders and started to lift. Well, there was only one answer to that.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and tried to keep going—was surprised when something big and black darted behind him, nipping at my hands.

“Hey! Get out of it, Cas!”

Rohan lost his balance and went over backwards, and I was jerked away by a very strong grip on my shirt.

“Enough!” Mack roared, shaking me, as I twisted in his grip and lashed out.

“Enough!” Tens echoed, grabbing Rohan and pushing him back to the wall as Cascade danced between us, barking up a storm.

“Enough,” came out in stereo, as Mack mirrored Tens’ trick with me and the wall opposite.

“Stand down,” followed in a desperate duet, accompanied by Cascade’s anxious whining. “Stand down.”

And I snapped my gaze over at Rohan, saw Tens shake him at the same time as Mack shook me, and laughed.

“Well, fuck me sideways and six ways to stardust, where in the Stars did you learn all that?” I said, and Rohan sagged against the wall.

He might have tried glaring at me, if Cascade hadn’t bounced up to put his paws on Tens’ shoulders, and then reach past him to wash the boy’s face. Dog was broadcasting happiness in one very infectious wave.

Boy! Boy! Boy! Boy! Boy!

Rohan sputtered from protest to laughter, not moving when Tens let him go, and moved out of the dog’s way.

“It’s good to see you, too, Cas. Who’s a good dog? Hey? Yeah, who?”

Mack carried me out of the room, keeping a good grip on my collar until the door closed behind us.

“What the everloving fuck was that?” he demanded.

“Cure-all,” I retorted. “Put me down.”

He stopped shaking me, and let go. I landed hard, bending my knees as I hit the floor, and then coming up with my fist cocked.

“Cutter!” Delight’s voice made us both turn, and I held my blow.

“Bennett wants to see you. You, too, Mack.”

28—Back to Work

Bennett was waiting for us in the main conference room. Delight led us straight in, and indicated two seats. Pritchard was also waiting with a first aid kit, and a tube of nanite-enhanced gel.

“Nice work,” he said, settling beside me and taking hold of my hand.

Until he started applying the gel, I hadn’t realized I’d done that much damage to my knuckles.

“Kid has a hard head,” I managed, and Mack slapped me across the back of the head. “Hey!”

He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his presence in my head, and he wasn’t amused. I rolled my eyes, and looked over at Bennett. He was sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking very alone, no matter that he tried to hide it behind a mask of patience. I looked over at Delight.

“So,” I said, and hissed as Pritchard ran a line of nan-gel down my cheek, “you rang?”

“We’re not done, yet,” she said. “Bennett has two missing agents, and Abby’s lost three of her siblings.

I resisted the urge to say that losing them had been very careless of her, since that wasn’t at all funny. Abs hit me with a jolt through