He squatted down on his haunches in front of her. Reaching out slowly, he put two fingers to the man’s throat, but he already knew there would be no pulse. He’d seen more than his share of corpses in his day.
“Who was he?” he asked softly.
Lulah’s eyes never moved; her stare remained vacant. “Tex. He’d been a Ranger once. He was a good man.”
“I’m sure he was.” Cutter closed the dead man’s eyelids gently. He looked up to the shell-shocked woman. “Lulah, darlin’. We gotta go. Now.”
She turned her head slightly toward him, but her eyes were still blank. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You don’t understand.” He laid his gun on the floor. “You’re in a lot of danger. I have to get you outta here.”
“I’m afraid she’s right, Mister Hawkins.” Grant’s voice was like thunder in the eerie quiet of the after-battle. “She won’t be going with you. She has other travel arrangements, I’m afraid.”
Damn! How did he slip up on me? Cutter lived in a world of cutthroats. He wasn’t one to let his guard down, but he’d never heard the creature enter the house.
Lulah looked up at Grant and her eyes came into focus immediately. They grew wide in amazement. “There’s more of them?”
“I thought I made it clear she wasn’t to be involved in any of this,” Cutter’s voice was low and deadly. He wondered if Grant knew he’d just gunned down one of his fellow team members. He guessed not. The wolf splice had the drop on him from the time he’d entered the room. He could’ve simply shot the gangster in the back if he’d suspected Cutter was a threat. Obviously, he harbored no such suspicion. Or, if he did, he feared little from it.
“You’ll have to take up any grievances you have with Mister Frost.” Grant’s tone was diplomatic but did not indicate that there would be any wiggle room. “I have my orders, and they don’t contain any allowance for deviation. I’m afraid present circumstances override any previous understandings,” the AnthroSplice sounded sincerely apologetic. “Unfortunately, we’re going to need her as a bargaining chip.”
Cutter felt rage churning inside him. His face felt warm, and he knew his blood was up. He had to be careful. He was a man who prided himself on surviving by letting the other guy make the mistakes. It would be easy to allow emotions to get the best of him in the here and now.
He sensed with this one, it would be a fatal mistake. The smooth-talking charm, the prim and proper persona … Cutter sensed it was all a façade. He knew a killer when he saw one. And a killer was lurking behind that million-dollar smile. Deep down, Grant was an animal. He had the DNA of one of nature’s most efficient predators. No doubt he had enhanced skills that gave him an added edge over a normal human being. He held all the cards at the moment.
Still, he couldn’t let it go. “I don’t take kindly to someone going back on their word.”
“Again, that would be between you and Frost,” Grant replied, seemingly not in the least bit concerned. “A soldier does not concern himself with political intrigue.”
“Oh?” countered the gangster. “And I thought there was more to you. You’re no better than that murderous, hulking beast you run with.”
“Oh, very good!” Grant clapped. “An attempt to provoke me. Actually, I thought you’d come up with a little bit better plan than that. However, since you chose that crude little avenue … I think you’d be quite amazed at the differences.” Cutter couldn’t see the smirk that flitted across the wolf’s face. If the human only knew. Grant raised a wary eyebrow. “I will have to ask you, though, Mister Cutter … please rid yourself of any further notion of reaching for your sidearm. I can assure you, it won’t end well for you if you don’t.”
Cutter’s hand froze, his fingertips almost touching the pistol. He’d slowly been easing his hand closer and closer to it. He’d been confident that if he could get his hand on it, he’d have more than a fair chance against the creature. Yet now, looking up, he saw that Grant had his own hand on his holstered rail pistol, ready to draw. The young merc, Seven, had appeared in the kitchen doorway, although he didn’t seem to be spoiling for a fight. Pulling his mask off, the young man looked frazzled and worn down. Still, the element of surprise was gone, and Lulah would be in the middle of any crossfire. He couldn’t take that chance.
He stood up straight, leaving the pistol on the floor, “Very well, chief. You win. But I’ll be accompanying Miz Carter … just to ensure nothing happens to her.”
“On my word as a gentleman, the lady’s well-being will come before my own,” Grant smiled warmly. “However, if you insist, I see no reason why we can’t enjoy each other’s company. There’s a ship on the street out front. Shall we escort the lovely lady to it?”
Cutter nodded down at Lulah, “She needs to put some clothes on.”
Grant’s ultra-sensitive ears picked up the faraway wailing of sirens growing louder and closer. The ZiPs and security forces were on their way en masse.
“I’m afraid there won’t be any time for that. Some old friends of yours are on the way.” He studied the gore-covered woman. “I’m guessing that Mrs. Denton is about her size. She should have something to fit the lovely lady.” He stepped back and gestured gallantly toward the door. “Now, unless you want to spend the night in the
