Wolver's Reward Read Online Free PDF Page B

followed his blows. He fought them off
until he was in position to do the most damage.
    He caught the heavily muscled bitch who'd led
the charge. Arms angled, forward and back, around her head and
throat, one twist would break her neck. He didn't intend to kill
her, but they didn't know that and if they challenged him, he'd do
it. Her death would be on them.
    "Dare me," he roared. He released a surge of
power that was greater than anything they could muster. The others
fell back. The young woman kept coming.
    "I'm sorry," she said in a voice that sounded
like heaven. "I really am."
    He started to tell her it was all right. He
understood she had no choice. He never got the chance. She was
holding a baseball bat by her leg. Before he could stop her, she
swung it in a wide arc over her head, crashing it into his. River
fell to his knees. Shaking his head to clear it, he started to
rise. She hit him again.
    A woman started to speak, coughed and choked,
and started again. "For heaven's sake, you didn't have to hit him
so hard."
    "He meant to kill you, Darla."
    "Nah, I don't think so. If he meant to, he
would have. And speaking of killing, you need to be careful with
that bat, honey. You could kill somebody with that thing."
    "I did what needed to be done," the much
younger voice sniffed. "We need to get him in the van and hurry. We
have to get to the preserve."
    "Listen, kiddo, we don't have to do this. Are
you sure you're doing the right thing?"
    "Right or wrong, it has to be done. Hurry. We
can't afford to be late."
    These were the things River heard as he faded
away, or thought he heard anyway. It might have been a dream, but
when he opened his eyes to the darkened interior of the van with
his hands and feet tied loosely with cord, he was pretty sure it
was real. He lay still for a moment and took stock of his
surroundings. No voices or movement inside or out. No sound except
drip, drip, drip. The rain had lessened to a drizzle.
    Outside, the rain had masked and washed away
the scent, giving him no warning of who or what he was dealing
with. Inside the van, he picked up six distinct scents; four
females, two male. He would remember those scents, one in
particular.
    He sat up and groaned as the throbbing in his
head threatened to split his skull in two. He was surprised the
little bitch hadn't done it in the first place. The dainty looking
thing had the voice of an angel and a swing that would make Babe
Ruth blush with shame.
    He had to wait until the nausea subsided
before he used his teeth to untie the knot at his wrists. His feet
were next. He kicked the doors open not because he had to, but
because he wanted to. He didn't care how much the sudden movement
hurt his head. Once he had them open, he wanted to rip them from
their hinges. His truck was gone along with everything in it.
    Of course it was. That was the purpose of the
whole ruse and he, like a fucking asshole, had fallen for it. Put a
helpless looking little female at the side of the road appearing
stranded and alone, and wait for the mark. If there was too much
traffic or the mark's shit didn't look worth it, or he wasn't
alone, she'd say her father or brother was on the way with a tow
truck. Thanks for stopping. Good-bye.
    If the goods looked worth it, someone leapt
out, usually when the guy was bent over the hood or changing the
tire. You didn't have to kill him, though the bastards who taught
River the game didn't much care one way or the other. The point was
to take what you needed; cash, credit cards, or vehicle, mostly all
three.
    The question here was why they had left their
vehicle behind. That wasn't normally part of the game. Leave
nothing behind that could be traced. That was the rule. A quick
check under the hood and then beneath the van showed him the
reason. They'd thrown a piston rod. Oil was everywhere. The rod had
shot right through the pan.
    The scenario was starting to make sense. This
wasn't the group's usual MO. That's why they seemed so