MoonFall by A.G. Wyatt Read Free Book Online

Her tank top could have been chosen to show off her figure, but more likely was meant to show off her ink, which appeared again from beneath cut-off shorts and ran down her legs. The woman would have been a work of art in her own right, but with intricate swirls and pinpoint pictures adorning her skin she became art laid upon art, a moment of breath-taking wonder in this place of pain and confinement.
    Her club crashed down on the table, denting the top. Noah jumped again.
    “Got enough of an eyeful?” she growled. “Or should I take off my shirt and show you the rest?”
    “If you’re offering…” Even knowing what would follow, Noah couldn’t resist.
    Sure enough, the club slammed into his shoulder, almost knocking him from his seat. He clutched his shoulder, the movement only adding to his pain. Why did folks do that, he wondered. Did they think their hands would somehow gain magical healing powers, make it all better at the touch of flesh? He sure as hell wasn’t feeling any magic.
    Burns prowled around the edge of the room, circling in and out of his vision.
    “What were you doing at the school?” she asked, stopping to lean across the table towards him. “What information were you after?”
    “No information,” Noah replied. “Just supplies. I was hoping to find food.”
    “In a library?” Burns snorted. “Yeah right.”
    She started prowling again, slapping the club against the palm of her hand, a steady drum beat of menace.
    “What’s the plan?” she asked. “Go through the old sewers maybe? Because I’ll tell you now, we scooped up the municipal plans years ago. You and the rest of the savages won’t get anywhere that way.”
    “No plan,” Noah replied. “No savages. I’m just a drifter looking for supplies. Check my pack. Would a savage be carrying a book, or a set of snares, or, umm–”
    “Or this?” She reached round into a holster at the back of her belt and pulled out Bourne.
    Relief swept through Noah like a good-natured flood. Bourne wasn’t lost. He still had something to cling onto in the wilds.
    Well, he might if they somehow agreed to give the gun back.
    And if they agreed to let him go.
    Damn, there were a lot of ifs today. So much for his rising spirits.
    “So you’re just some innocent drifter.” Burns turned Bourne as if inspecting the barrel for clues. “Some innocent drifter who goes sneaking around towns, and who pulls a gun at the first sight of the Apollonian Guard.”
    “It ain’t a good idea to roam the wilds unarmed,” Noah said. “There’s a lot of bad people out there.”
    “There certainly are.” Burns glared pointedly at him.
    “I’m not bad people,” Noah said. “Whoever you think I am, I ain’t. I don’t know no plans or no maps, or no Dionites, whatever the hell one of them is.”
    “I didn’t say anything about Dionites.” Molly stuck Bourne back through her belt. She looked triumphant.
    “Your friends, they said it.” Noah straightened in his seat. He had to focus, had to be real clear so he didn’t dig himself no further into trouble. But her leaning forward like she kept doing wasn’t helping matters none. “That Poulson fellow, he called me Dionite, or Diorite, or Dynamite, or some such shit.”
    “Oh, so now you’re pretending like you don’t even know what I’m talking about?”
    “I don’t! I swear to God or Bourne there, or those mighty fine tattoos, I swear I don’t–”  
    She lashed out with the club again. He tried to jerk back, was too slow, wound up sprawling on the floor, the back of his head pounding where it hit the concrete, cheek hot and sticky with his own blood.
    She stood over him, the club pressed against his throat.
    “I can do all kinds of things to you here,” she said. “Not just beatings, though I’m more than happy to lay that down all over your sorry, savage ass. We have pliers back there in the other room. Knives too. And I’ve got quite an imagination when I get riled. You’d be