The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

The risk she was about to take might backfire with this man, especially with Bess unconscious. Loretta had never forgotten how he'd beaten one of his crewmen years ago, on that first voyage out of The Pit of her childhood to Waldron's Gate. That man had never worked for Rhysto or anyone else again. Rhysto's passions were impossible for him to control, and anger worked as well desire.

He had no more reason or restraint than a cornered animal when either took control of him. Loretta may be cornered, but she would not be so mindless and weak

"If you're so damn worried about the other pilots," she said, "why don't you question them? Leave me be."

"I will question whoever it is," Rhysto said, his eyes dark and burning. "Never doubt that. Bringing each of them in is such a waste of time and energy. Perhaps I should start with your friend Bill."

"Bill has nothing to do with this." Loretta let her voice quiver. "Rullin betrayed him over and over again, and betrayed Mr. Norwood as well."

Rhysto transferred the knife to the hand around Loretta's shoulders, turning it slowly in front of her eyes. He pulled a thin, rough rope out of his pocket, more than enough to bind her hands and feet. Or her mouth.

"That just gives me more reason to help Bill understand his place," he said. "If he can't run his shaw any better than that, he doesn't deserve to have it. He'll be one less scab pilot causing trouble for the rest of us by the time I'm finished."

Loretta breathed deeply, forcing her mind away from Bill's furious eyes and voice when she last saw him. Letting that distract her now would get both of them killed, or worse.

"Is controlling every single shaw the only way you'll feel secure, Rhysto? Same as causing a woman pain is the only way you feel like a man?"

"You can't tell me you don't like the pain I cause," he said, breathing against her ear. He held the rope in both hands now, a few inches from her eyes. And still, he held the knife. “You’re too damn good at causing pain of your own. You play that game better than any woman I’ve ever known.”

"Whether I do or not doesn't matter here. You've moved on to softer targets over the years, haven't you?" She glanced at his neck while he focused on the rope, noting where his collar fell loose. The numbing spray wouldn't work without bare flesh. "Olsen Norwood. Roma Norwood. My grandmother. Perhaps it's not Parliament that's gone soft. Perhaps it's you."

He laughed, but the sound of it chilled Loretta to her bones.

"Keep that up," he said. "I'll show you how far from soft I am. That pretty little mouth will be too busy to spout such nonsense."

Loretta could see he was telling the truth, and how well her dangerous game was working. One weakness or the other would give her the chance she needed.

If she survived.

"Then show me," she said, turning her face up to his. "Get it over with so I can get back to sleep. I have nothing more to tell you, about Bill or anyone else. If you can't control your shaws, you have no one to blame but yourself."

He pulled her into a rough kiss. Too brief for her to get the needle into place, but she moved her arm higher on his back.

"Sleep is the last thing you'll get," he said. "And that not for a long time. When I'm finished with you, we'll go wake up your aged friend and see if she takes her punishment as well as you do. I'll make sure you get to watch."

Loretta pulled him down into a deeper whiskey-scented kiss with her free hand, throwing her lot with desire after all. She whispered against his lips.

"What I get to watch is you drawing your last." She heard the faint hiss of numbing steam as she pressed the hypo against his neck. "Before The Imp drags you back to The Pit."

Rhysto jerked toward her. She'd already injected the full dose of sedative before he understood anything was wrong. He tried to drag the knife across her neck but caught her forearm instead.

Loretta pulled her other arm from behind him and jabbed the empty hypo into the back of his hand. He screamed and dropped the knife into her lap. Her palm was already slick with blood when she picked it up, so she gripped the copper-wrapped hilt with both hands.

"What's the matter, Rhysto?" She pushed the tip against the hollow of his throat, pushing until he moved back onto his hands and knees. "Not so eager to punish me anymore?"

He tried to reach for his revolver, but she jabbed hard enough to break the skin. With that much of the drug inside his body, and probably more than a little booze from the fumes of his breath, she only had to keep him away for another minute or so.

"You're just...just fooling yourself. Stupid wo-woman." He shifted onto one hip, and she moved with him, still holding the blade against his bleeding throat. "You... Regret. Promise I...I keep."

"Yes, I'm sure you believe that, you sadistic bastard." He slumped farther, and Loretta slipped his revolver out of its holster and showed it to him. "You've made and broken your last promise. You've crossed me for the last...bloody...time."

Rhysto groaned and collapsed onto the bed. Loretta watched him, certain he was only pretending, waiting for her to drop her guard so he could finish what he'd started. She prodded at his chest with one bare foot, but he didn't move.

A growl started deep in her own chest, more like that cornered animal than she realized. That growl rose to a scream when she braced herself and kicked with both feet, shoving him onto the floor. The pilot never moved. He was perfectly still with one arm caught underneath him at a terribly awkward angle, his neck twisted