Ryker laughed. “Everyone has use for a dirty cop,” he replied, but the laughter was a hollow, sour noise. A machine that cranked mirth rather than gears. Whether Ryker had the capacity for genuine humor was unlikely to ever be discovered. Least of all by Oriena. “Though I’m not sure how dirty that one really is. You’ll have to taint him, sweet one.” His smile was siren shrill as ice clinking in his cup. His gaze was pulled low as the fight inspired. The two slabs of meat pounding on each other held little pleasure for Ryker other than analyzing piss-poor training. He could show Ivan a thing or two if the guy survived. Oriena wasn't kidding about her contender's ferocity. Unconventional, but effective.
Her insinuation made him want to roll his eyes. She was baiting, but Ryker was hardly a gullible catch. “I don’t claim to own anyone, girl. But tell you what, if you need assistance ridding yourself of the obligation to your pup, I’d be glad to rid you of the burden.” The grin perched on his lips was not adoption of mercy.
The opposite, actually.
Her insinuation made him want to roll his eyes. She was baiting, but Ryker was hardly a gullible catch. “I don’t claim to own anyone, girl. But tell you what, if you need assistance ridding yourself of the obligation to your pup, I’d be glad to rid you of the burden.” The grin perched on his lips was not adoption of mercy.
The opposite, actually.