Bad Attitude (B.A.D. Agency #1)(18)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

“Wait, wait, wait. Go back to the first thing. What’s this twenty-four-hour thing? Andre didn’t tell me anything about that.”

Steele gave her a mean glare. “You wanted me to get a job. Well, lady, that’s their job-screening. I kill him, or he kills me. Winner gets the job.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Absolutely. I’m not the least bit serious. All of this is one big hallucination. And I’m not sitting over here bleeding to death. But hey, since it’s a hallucination, could you please make my arm stop throbbing because right now it hurts like hell.” He practically snarled the last bit at her.

“You don’t have to be so nasty.”

He growled at her like a wounded bear—which she supposed he was. That growling only increased as she pulled up to the Henley Park Hotel and parked off to the side so that their beat-up car wouldn’t be quite so obvious.

“What the hell are we doing here?”

She gave him a menacing glare as she put the car in park. “Getting a room.”

“In a swanky hotel? Sure. Why not?”

“The assassin won’t be looking for us here.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You can’t outrun the satellites, Syd. Not to mention the fact that I’m just a little hard to hide right now. How do you propose we get me in there? I think they might get upset if I bleed all over their polished floors.”

“Don’t worry, Steele. This is one hotel where they have plenty of security. If someone comes into this place who isn’t a registered guest, theywill be stopped. A French politician and his family are here on vacation, and they have elevated their procedures to accomodate him. It’s the safest place I know of.”

She balanced her weapon on his thigh. “Here. Protect yourself while I sign us in.” She hesitated as she saw the agony of his expression. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

He took her weapon grudgingly. “What? You going soft, Syd Vicious?”

She gave him her own growl before she got out and rushed across the sidewalk, toward the entrance.

Steele forced himself not to say anything while she left him out in the open like a neon sign begging the independent contractor to come finish him off.

As he looked around the car, with its obvious bullet holes and shattered glass, he started laughing at the thought of what it must look like outside with the fender damage too. Yeah. They looked like they belonged at a fine hotel, huh? It was a wonder management wasn’t calling the police to escort the riffraff off the premises.

He didn’t know what would be worse.

Steele’s eyes narrowed as an unmarked black sedan entered the lot, then slowed down as it came into view of his car. It crept along, slowing even more as it came alongside him.

He gripped the weapon, ready to fire.

It parked two spaces down. Grinding his teeth against the pain, he pulled the slide back to look a bullet in the chamber as he held his breath and prepared to shoot.

Until he saw two young women get out of the car. They were chatting together as they put their designer purses on their shoulders and grabbed several shopping bags from the backseat. Completely oblivious to him, they chatted away as they headed for the hotel.

Steele drew a long breath as he switched the safety on and relaxed even though the pain of his shoulder was a throbbing nightmare. He’d learned a long time ago to deal with physical discomfort. The wound would either stop throbbing eventually or kill him.

At the moment, he had no preference.Just make the damn pain stop.

Grinding his teeth, he tilted his head back and took long, deep breaths. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he saw Sydney headed back toward the car.

She ran to his side.

“Stay there a second,” she mouthed through the only piece of glass that wasn’t shattered.

“You know, I can hear you just fine, since most of the windows are gone,” Steele said sarcastically, frowning as he watched her go to the trunk. A few seconds later, she returned with a long coat. She opened the door and made a face of sympathetic pain as she saw the blood that had soaked the faux leather interior of the car.

“Sorry, hon,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I made a mess.”

She didn’t look amused. “Are you okay?”

“For a guy who’s bleeding to death, I’m doing pretty good. You?”

She shook her head at him as she wiped her hand over his face. He closed his eyes at the tenderness of her unexpected actions. He didn’t know how her touch could make him feel anything other than the pain of his injury, but it did. Hell, it even made him hard again.

She brushed his hair back from his brow. “We need to get you inside.”

“What about the car?”

“It’ll be taken care of.”

Deciding not to argue, Steele got out slowly and pulled the coat on. He let out a groan as his shoulder flamed even more. He heard Syd hiss in sympathy. She helped him put it on gently, then buttoned it.

It was a bit warm for a coat, and no doubt it would gain them too much attention, but Steele went with it anyway. The coat would be less conspicuous than the blood.

“We need to get to the room before I bleed through this,” he mumbled.

She nodded as she tried to help him away from the car.

“I got it, Syd. It’ll be too obvious if you help me.”

“Okay,” she said as she led him toward the hotel.

“I still think it’s a mistake to stay here.”

“Don’t worry. This place is crawling with security.”

Was that supposed to make him feel better? The last thing he needed was for any of them to be TV watchers who’d seen his supposed jailbreak.

“We’re on the third floor,” she said as they entered the lobby and she led him toward the elevators.

He would have put the sunglasses back on, but seeing how dark the lobby was, that would make him look even more suspicious than he already did. So Steele kept his head down, but he was well aware of everyone in the place. Luckily the two desk clerks were busy chatting, and the only man who was obvious in the lobby was sitting with his laptop, working.

Syd pulled out her cell phone and pressed a button. She started speaking in spook talk, which meant she was saying nothing while updating someone on their situation. Steele had no idea who she was talking to, and frankly he didn’t care. His head was starting to buzz, and the last thing he could afford was to pass out.

He leaned against the back wall of the elevator car while she pressed the button for their floor. It seemed to take forever before the doors opened onto an elegant hallway. Syd led him out to a room that was halfway down, between the elevator and the stairwell.

“Let me guess,” he said as she fumbled with the lock. “Not a coincidence?”

She shook her head as she hung up the phone. “We need an escape route.”

“Good woman.”

As soon as she had the door open, Steele headed for the bed so that he could finally lie down. But what he really wanted to do was pass out.

If only…

Syd bit her lip as she headed for Steele and helped him remove the coat, which was now completely soaked with blood. She sucked her breath in sharply at the sight of his wound. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was.”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” he said in a bad rendition fromMonty Python and the Holy Grail.

“What are you, a loon?” she asked, using another quote from that scene.

He laughed, then groaned. “You like Python?”

She nodded as she dropped the coat to the floor. “See the violence inherent in the system. Help, help, I’m being oppressed.”

His eyes were light, even though his brow was creased with pain. “I need some towels, a knife, and a sewing kit with some kind of alcohol to soak it in.”

Syd scowled at him. “Oh, you are not seriously going to tend this on your own, are you?”

“The only other way is to cauterize it. In which case I need towels, a knife, and a lighter.”

She stared aghast at his calmness. “You’re just going to dig it right out of your shoulder all by your lonesome, huh?”

“It would be nice for you to do it, but since I don’t trust you not to nick an artery and kill me, I think I should handle it.”

“Do this a lot, do you?” she asked as she went for the towels.

“Only when I have to.”

And that made her stomach clench. She grabbed two towels and headed back for him. In all honesty, she was worried about him. He didn’t look good, but then given his current state there was little wonder about that.

“Lie back,” she said as she pressed the towels to the wound. “Andre will be here momentarily with help.”

“No!”

She glared at him. “Yes, Steele. We can’t afford to have you die on us. We’re compromised enough.”

She could tell he wanted to argue, but he merely laid his head back and kept his jaw clenched.

Someone knocked on the door. “Housekeeping.”

Steele had the gun up and angled at the door before she could even reach for it. She motioned to him to stay down while she approached the door, half expecting it to be the hired killer.

She lifted herself up so that she could see out of the peephole. “Yes?”

“You need extra towels and alcohol?”

She relaxed only a hair at the code words. Still, she wasn’t foolish enough to trust them completely. She
glanced back at Steele, who still had the gun up, before she unbolted the door and slowly opened it.

The maid came in slowly, with Andre one step behind.

Steele frowned at the small Hispanic woman in a cleaning lady’s uniform as he let his arm with the gun fall to the side. Andre closed and locked the door.

The “maid” had an armload of towels, but instead of heading to the bathroom, she moved toward the bed. He watched as she set them down at his feet and unwrapped a doctor’s bag.

“It’s all right,” she said to him as she moved to cut his shirt from him. “I’m Dr. Vasquez.”

“I hope so,” he said quietly. “I’d hate to have Alice dig a bullet out of my body. Call me crazy, but I don’t think they teach that in cooking school. Not to mention I don’t ever recall the episode with Marcia, Greg, or Cindy getting a bullet wound.”

She patted his arm before she unwrapped alcohol swabs, then set about cleaning his injury. “I know the pain makes everyone snappish.”

“He’s always like this,” Syd said drily.

He snorted at her. “Oh, I’m barely getting started. Just wait until the pain really gets bad.”

Syd didn’t say anything as she moved out of the way while the doctor prepared to give him a local.

“Any word on our friend?” she asked Andre.

Andre shook his head. “He lost the cops and vanished on the interstate. He was last seen headed north of here.”

Syd sighed as if that information irritated her. “That tells us nothing.”

“I know.”

Syd looked back to where Steele was watching the doctor dig the bullet out of his shoulder. Her stomach shrank again. The man definitely had guts. She’d give him credit there. There was no way she could watch a doctor work on her without losing her lunch.

She turned back to Andre. “We’re going to need a few supplies…”

“An M21 rifle,” Steele said from the bed. “I also want a handgun, a butterfly knife, and a few smoke bombs. A coded, secure cell phone and a gym bag. I need a Swiss Army knife, clay, wire, and electronic lock picks.”

Syd frowned at him. He was really starting to sweat. “How on earth can you concentrate while she’s digging a bullet out of your shoulder?”

He gave her a droll stare. “Mind over matter. Not to mention the fact that I don’t want to die right now. I’ve still got a few things I want to do, like shove my foot up so far up the assassin’s ass that he tastes leather for eternity…ow!” he snapped as the doctor twisted the unnumbed part of his arm.

Andre shook his head. “Okay, I have his list. I’ll procure a new car, dump the old one, and get started on everything—”

“Let us procure the car,” Steele said. “It’ll look more authentic that way.”

Andre nodded. “All right, refresh. I’ll get a car and park it on the street. I’ll put everything in the trunk and lock it tight so that it’ll look like you stole it. I’m going to assume you know how to hot-wire?”

Steele nodded.

Andre looked at Syd. “You two be careful.”

“We will.”

At least, she hoped. But it was hard to be certain, since neither of them knew who they were up against.

Syd let Andre out of the room, then didn’t speak while the doctor stitched Steele’s wound. His strength was absolutely amazing, and she had to admit that she was learning to respect this man. How had someone like him lost his temper to the point he took a shot at his CO?

It didn’t make sense.

Which made her wonder what else had happened between them. What had the CO failed to mention, and what secrets was Steele keeping? She had to admit, she was a lot more attracted to him than she wanted to be. But how could a woman not be intrigued by someone who was so calm and capable in such an extreme situation?

She cocked her head as the doctor finished.

“He’ll need someone to help him keep the wound clean,” Dr. Vasquez said as she wiped the blood from his stitches. “I’m leaving an antibiotic, swabs, and dressing for the wound. Just make sure it doesn’t get angry looking. We need to keep as much infection out of it as we can.”

“Got it.”

Dr. Vasquez handed her a small bottle. “I also have some oxycodone for the pain, but I somehow think he might not want to use it, since it’ll make him drowsy. But just in case…”

“Thanks.”