"Lover At Last" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward, J.R.)

тАЬLet me get this straight,тАЭ V drawled over the cell phone connection. тАЬYou lost your Hummer.тАЭ

Qhuinn wanted to put his head through a plate-glass window. тАЬYeah. I did. So could you pleaseтАФтАЭ

тАЬHow do you lose eight thousand pounds of vehicle?тАЭ

тАЬThatтАЩs not importantтАФтАЭ

тАЬWell, actually, it is if you want me to access the GPS and tell you where to find the damn thingтАФwhich is why youтАЩre calling, true? Or do you just think confession without detail is good for the soul or some shit.тАЭ

Qhuinn gripped his phone hard. тАЬIleftthekeysinit.тАЭ

тАЬIтАЩm sorry? I didnтАЩt catch that.тАЭ

Bullshit. тАЬI left the keys in it.тАЭ

тАЬThat was a dumb-ass move, son.тАЭ

No. Fucking. Kidding. тАЬSo can you help meтАФтАЭ

тАЬJust e-mailed you the link. One thingтАФwhen you recover the vehicle?тАЭ

тАЬYeah?тАЭ

тАЬCheck to see if the jackers took a moment to put the seat forwardтАФyou know, get comfortable and shit. Because they probably werenтАЩt in a rush, what with having the keys.тАЭ The sound of VishousтАЩs yukking it up was like getting paddled in the nuts with a car fender. тАЬListen, I gotta go. I need both hands to hold my gut as I laugh my ass off attcha. Later.тАЭ

As the call went dead, Qhuinn took a moment to rein in the desire to throw the phone.

Yeah, тАЩcuz losing that, too, was going to really help the situation.

Going into his Hotmail account, and wondering just how long it was going to take to live this one down, he got a bead on his frickinтАЩ car.

тАЬItтАЩs heading west.тАЭ He tilted the phone so John could see. тАЬLetтАЩs do this.тАЭ

Dematerializing, Qhuinn was dimly aware that the level of his rage was disproportionate to the problem: As his molecules scattered, he was a lit fuse waiting to connect with some dynamiteтАФand it wasnтАЩt just about him being a dumb-ass, or the missing car, or the fact that he was looking like an idiot to one of the males he respected most in the Brotherhood.

There was so much other shit.

Taking form on a rural road, he checked his phone again and waited for John to show up. When the fighter did, he recalibrated and they went farther west, closing in, cross-referencing the directionтАжuntil Qhuinn ghosted onto the precise strip of ice-covered asphalt his fucking Hummer was on.

About a hundred yards ahead of the vehicle.

Whatever SOB was behind the wheel was going sixty miles an hour in the snow, heading for a curve. What aтАж

Well, calling them stupid was exactly the kind of kettle-black thing the night had devolved into.

Let me shoot the wheels, John signed, like he knew a gun in QhuinnтАЩs hand was not the best idea.

Before the guy could up-and-out his forty, though, Qhuinn dematerializedтАжright onto the hood of the SUV.