Mack 'n' Me: The Wolves of Alpha 9 by C.M. Simpson (top ebook reader txt) 📕

“Man’s heard the stories,” Mack said, over comms.

Well, at least he still had his sense of humor.

I watched as they took him off the wall, wincing as a scream escaped both his lips, and echoed through the implant.

“Easy, boss,” Tens said, but Mack didn’t respond.

I hadn’t been able to suppress a flinch at Mack’s scream, and tears had sprung to my eyes. Of course, Barangail noticed.

“You get the job done,” he said, tilting his jaw towards where a now-unconscious Mack was being loaded into the tank, his legs straightened and encased in air casts, “and you get him back.”

I stifled the urge to cry, even if I couldn’t stop the tears from leaking from the edges of my eyes. Damn it! What the fuck was wrong with me?

“I wonder,” Case said, and it was pretty damn clear that she didn’t, that she was convinced she knew exactly why Mack’s condition was causing me so much distress.

Well, she could jam it.

She laughed—and it was as unhappy a sound as I felt.

“Focus, Cutter. You can’t afford to fuck it up, now.”

She was right, much as I resented it. I cleared my throat, and turned back to Barangail. Tens opened the map in my head, and I noted the markers tracing the path the woman had taken to escape. Given the glimpse I’d just had of Barangail’s true nature, I was surprised it had been the maid who’d run away. Personally, I think the concubine would have been better off making the attempt herself.

I shrugged the thought away, studied the map, and then focused on Barangail.

“I’ll send you a list,” I said, using the map’s address of origin as a destination to do just that.

It had been nice of Case to put the list together.

I saw Barangail’s eyes temporarily widen as my list hit his implant, and then they narrowed, and he glared at me. I gave him my most innocent stare, and saw when he decided to ignore me. I was the servant and inconsequential.

“I’ve locked your ship down on station,” he said. “She’ll be there, until you bring the bracelet back.”

I just looked at him, waiting for the inevitable sting in the tail.

“If you don’t return, I’ll take the ship as compensation.”

I wondered briefly what would happen to the crew, but Barangail was happy to explain.

“The crew will become my property.” He saw the look of concern cross my face, and smiled in mock reassurance. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can put your people’s talents to good use.”

I raised my eyebrows at that, since there were a couple of problems with his theory. The first one was that it wasn’t my crew. And the second was Mack.

“I’ll be returning your Captain Star to his ship.”

Well, that explained the floating regen tank. I tried not to think of what might happen if the convoy was ambushed on its return to the city. Mack might be lost forever. Barangail had an answer for that, too.

“We won’t have any trouble on the way,” he said. “I’ll take him up by private shuttle.”

Well, that sorted that, then. Time to get pushy.

“And my gear?”

“It’ll be here shortly.”

Oh, it would, huh?

I rolled my shoulders, signaling that I’d like to be let go. The arm around my throat tensed, and then Barangail’s eyes shifted past me, and he nodded. As soon as I was released, I slide-stepped to the side, resisting the temptation to step forward and use it as momentum to channel into a punch at the Barangail’s face. I even managed not to punch Foksall.

Soldiers moved away to give me a place to stand, and I settled, keeping a wary eye on Barangail, and making darned sure I was aware of what was happening around me. I saw when the medics were happy enough with Mack’s state to let him travel, because they stepped back, and sealed the tank shut. Mack was out cold, not surprising given the amount of pain he’d been in. It was almost a relief to see the regen fluid seep into the tank around him, and I realized it must have carried its own supply. That was something new.

Doc was going to be as curious as hell. I wondered if Barangail would be sending along any of his techs to explain it.

Barangail glanced over at the tank, catching the lead medic’s eye. I couldn’t translate the look that passed between the, but I was pretty sure what the lord meant when he shook his head.

Not yet.

I sighed.

Why the hell not?

12—Into the Deeps

I was waiting when Barangail turned back to me. It was obvious he was about to give me another spiel. I just wished he’d get it over and done with.

“I could really do with a set of combat fatigues,” I said, when he just stood and stared at me.

He raised an eyebrow, and then made a point of looking me up and down like I was a prospective concubine he was considering taking on. I lowered my chin, and stared right back, raising an eyebrow to mirror him. I also folded my arms across my chest, and tapped my foot—which reminded me...

“And boots,” I said. “Could I have my boots and weapons back... please?”

I considered the ‘please’ a nice touch, considering there was no way in Hell I was going to address him as a superior, so he might as well start looking me like the contractor I was. He raised his eyes to meet mine, and his lips twitched. It wasn’t a smile, and it wasn’t a baring of teeth. It was more an acknowledgement of the line I was drawing between us.

He glanced at Foksall.

“See she gets the equipment on the list, and the equipment she came with.” He glanced at where I was standing in my leggings, and the black tank top I’d worn under the corset. “Except for the dress. I don’t think she’ll be needing it.”

Not if I got my combat fatigues, I wouldn’t. I waited some more.

“Bardot,