Savage Redemption - By Alexis Morgan Page 0,72
try it, asshole?” Conlan injected some of the cold authority he used to use bringing down perps back in his Coalition days. Evidently he hadn’t lost any of his talent for convincing criminals that he was an even bigger badass than they were, because the man’s shoulders slumped. He turned and raised his hands.
Conlan frisked the guy, relieving him of two guns and a couple of knives. He might have more weapons, but none he could easily access at the moment. There’d be time to do a more thorough search when they were back at Dwayne’s house with the doors locked and the shades pulled down.
He gave him a shove in the right direction. “Start walking.”
His prisoner was still trying to talk his way out of the situation. “You don’t know what kind of trouble you’re buying here, chancellor.”
“Save your threats. After all, I’m not the one in custody, am I? Now turn left and aim for that brick house on the left.”
Kat must have been watching out the window, because as soon as they reached the house, she had the door open. She immediately backed away, wisely putting plenty of room between her and their new guest.
“You’re her.” The man stumbled to a halt. “Damn it, we did just miss catching the two of you, didn’t we? Can’t believe we were outdone by a female and a damn mongrel.”
Kat obviously took offense. “It wasn’t the first time and won’t be the last. And Conlan isn’t a mongrel.”
He’d been called that before and knew the guy was hoping to rattle them so he could make a break for it. Although he ignored the name-calling, Conlan’s heart warmed to hear Kat defend him. He circled around the edge of the room to hand his gun to Kat. “If he moves, shoot him. We can always catch another one, and the second guy will be more cooperative when he sees his buddy’s dead body.”
Kat smiled. “Fine. I’ve been wanting a little payback for them shooting me the other day. Think he’s the one who pulled the trigger? If so, I think he deserves to have a scar to match the ones they gave me.”
Conlan loved her attitude. “Anything you want, sweetheart. You don’t even have to aim for his shoulder. A little lower would have more...um, lasting impact.”
“Oh, good idea.”
The guy winced when Kat immediately lowered the sights on the gun considerably lower. Conlan finished checking him for weapons, finding another smaller gun, a garrote and two more blades.
“Think I’ll keep these,” Conlan said, smiling as he pocketed the knives. “They must pay you guys well to afford such quality weapons. Of course, if I end up using them on you, I’ll have to bury them with the body. What a waste of good steel.”
“Get screwed, chancellor. I’m not some poor civilian you can intimidate.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a soldier wannabe who’ll work for any scumbag with enough money to pay your salary.” Conlan snarled, his fangs at full length as he punched the guy in the gut hard once and then a second time before the merc could draw a breath.
“Now listen up. The only reason I’m not ripping your throat out right now is that I’m going to ask a few questions. Your job is to answer them. Even an idiot like you should be able to follow directions that simple.”
The guy started to shake his head, so Conlan gave him another reminder, this time to his kidney. Then he relieved him of his wallet and looked through it. As he did so, he turned his back on the prisoner in casual disregard for any danger the guy might present, a clear insult. Sure enough, the guy fell for the ruse and charged forward, bellowing in fury. A few seconds later, he was flat out on the floor with Conlan’s newly acquired knife pressed against his throat and a badly damaged wrist.
“It says here your name is Francis McAdams. Gosh, your parents must have hated you. I figure you go by Mac, so that’s what I’m going to call you.”
Conlan’s smile was nowhere near friendly. “Okay, now that I have your attention, let’s get started. Who hired you?”
The merc’s eyes were wild as he cradled his broken wrist with his other hand. “Some guy.”
“Tsk, tsk, Mac.” Conlan gave him a disappointed look and squeezed his broken wrist. “Mac, I’ve got to tell you that you’re not helping me here. What guy?”
Mac whimpered in pain. “We only know him by the