Bad Attitude

Home > Paranormal > Bad Attitude > Page 18
Bad Attitude Page 18

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  Steele leaned his head back and sighed heavily. "You know, I'm tired, I hurt, and well, I'm not even going to go into the other. But the fact is that I don't want to get up from this chair. All I want is an hour of peace."

  "You want me to kill him for you?" Jack offered almost gleefully.

  "Not your fight, Jack."

  He blew a raspberry at Steele. "That never stopped me before. Uncle Sam never cared if I had an issue with someone or not before they had me take their head off."

  Syd frowned as she watched the constantly updating data on the computer that kept up with their "friend" while the men argued over his future. Honestly, she didn't care for their scenarios regarding him. "I don't think we should kill him."

  Both men gave her a stunned look.

  "We can use him," Syd explained. "You know, get information about APS out of him. I'm sure he knows some of their other contractors and how the company works. If he's dead, he's useless."

  Jack shrugged. "Useless works for me. They can't shoot you in the back if they're dead."

  Steele nodded emphatically. "Being the one with the bullet wound, I tend to agree with Jack on this. Dead definitely works for me."

  She rolled her eyes. "You two are terrible. You can't just kill someone for no reason."

  Jack frowned. "Does she not know what you did in the Army, Slim?"

  Steele didn't answer as his luscious brown eyes bore into her. "Again, being the only one here with a festering shot wound, I think I have a good reason for wanting this asshole dead."

  Syd crossed her arms over her chest as she insisted on getting her way in this matter. "And I have a better one for wanting him alive. He can help us get inside APS."

  Steele let out an irritated sound.

  "Well," Jack said slowly. "You two need to be making up your mind real soon, 'cause he's just about here."

  Steele stared at Syd as he thought of how much aggravation this guy could cost them. Not to mention destruction. "If he escapes, we're screwed."

  Her brow knitted as she considered that.

  "He'd blow a hole straight in all your plans," Steele pressed, making her completely aware of what could go wrong. "They expect me to kill him, Syd. What if they want proof?"

  She didn't answer that question. Instead, she turned to Jack. "Can we hide him here?"

  Jack scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I got some handcuffs and stuff. I guess we could keep him here for a bit, long as he's housebroke and he doesn't snore. I can't stand people who snore."

  She heard a dog barking before it came running from a tunnel on her left. A beautiful tawny brown with gorgeous gold eyes, Cletus came up to her knees.

  "I know, Cletus," Jack said as he scratched the German shepherd's head. "It's company."

  Steele got up, mumbling under his breath about unreasonable women, as he headed for the case with his rifle in it. He hesitated. "You know, it dawns on me that going up there with a loaded rifle when I can't kill the SOB is like being on guard duty with rubber bullets. A total waste of time. Jack, you got any tranks?"

  "Sure." Jack ambled over to a trunk underneath a table. He opened it up to show several different kinds. "You want one to bring down an elephant?"

  "Personally, I want the most painful thing you got." He glanced over to Syd. As he spoke, he enunciated each word carefully. "That won't kill him."

  "Thank you," she said kindly.

  Steele growled in the back of his throat as her words echoed in his head. Thank you. Yeah, thanks. The least she could do was thank him with something a little more tangible than words.

  A nice kiss...

  A little grope...

  Nope, instead she was sending him out there to get his ass shot again. Why had he ever left jail?

  Jack scratched his chest before he pulled out a rifle and loaded it. "This'll burn like acid." He handed Steele additional ammo. "Not that you're going to need this, right?"

  "Right, but just in case."

  As Steele started for the elevator car, Jack stopped him. "He'll hear you and have time to prepare his position." Jack handed him a Bluetooth earpiece. He put one on at the same time Steele did.

  "Can you hear me?"

  "You're right in front of me, Jack."

  Jack gave him an unamused glare.

  "Yes, Jack. You're in my ear."

  "Good, 'cause cutie-pie and I are going to monitor you from here." Jack patted his leg and made noises for his dog. "Cletus, fetch your fuzzy."

  The dog took off.

  Jack motioned toward the area where Cletus had vanished. "Follow the dog. He'll take you straight to the chute that goes up the service area without the mechanical crap. You'll come up behind the assassin, silent and quick. Now go."

  Steele still wasn't happy about this, but off he went after Cletus.

  He could hear Jack and Syd talking as he followed the shepherd down a long, narrow tunnel. There were dim lights every few feet that kept it just light enough for him to find his way, but not so much that he could get a full visual of what was ahead of him. "You need a new generator, Jack."

  "Nah, I like it dark."

  "There's only one thing I like to do in the dark."

  Syd made a disgusted noise. "You're such a pig!"

  "Sleep!" Steele said defensively. "I meant sleep. I personally hate sex in the dark. I want to--" He broke that thought off as Cletus lowered his head and growled low and viciously. His ears were laid back, and every hair on his back was standing up.

  "On your right," Jack said in his ear, "there's a lever. Press it and it releases the spring. Cletus'll show you the way up."

  Steele did as he said. Another trapdoor snapped up. He climbed up the earthen ladder, half expecting the hired gun to be waiting there when he arrived.

  "Don't worry," Jack whispered in his ear. "He's still creeping around your Beamer. Looks like he wants to make sure you're not in it.... You're a quarter click south of his position."

  Steele went into military mode as he crept through the dense brush in a crouch with his weapon held at ready. Like his sniper rifle, it was bolt-action, with a scope on it that should allow him easy sights on the bastard.

  Completely silent, Cletus led him forward like a bird dog after prey.

  "What'cha you been hunting for with this dog, Jack?" Steele whispered. "He's just a little too well trained."

  "Trespassers mostly. Trust me, he knows how to track and not give away your position."

  Yes, he did. Cletus was one hell of a pet.

  Steele made his way along the edge of the woods until he came upon the clearing where the cars were. The assassin had moved on to search out the overgrown cabin. He didn't see the Escalade, but that didn't mean anything. No doubt the man had parked it a ways back to make sure they wouldn't hear or see him coming.

  Disregarding his throbbing shoulder, Steele crouched low as he took position on the ground and prepared his rifle for the coming shot. Like him, Cletus dropped to the ground, and making a strange, snakelike profile as he edged his way through the foliage.

  That was the oddest animal he'd ever seen. But Cletus was perfectly suited for Jack.

  Steele tested the wind and listened as Jack went into spotter mode and gave him a few coordinates for his shot. Of course there was only so much Jack could give, since he was underground. And as Steele lined up for the shot, memories tore through him.

  An image of Brian laughing went through his head, followed by the image of his friend lying dead barely a foot away from him, a bullet wound in his head.

  He flinched involuntarily.

  That action cost him as he scraped the ground with his foot.

  The assassin snapped his head around and looked straight at his position, which wouldn't have been bad had he been wearing a ghillie suit. But in jeans and a sweatshirt...

  Damn! Grinding his teeth, he held perfectly still while he watched the assassin pull his weapon out.

  Maybe he hadn't seen him...

  That thought died an insta
nt later when the assassin started straight for his position.

  Before Steele could move, Cletus lunged. The assassin took a shot at the dog. Thankfully, Cletus moved out of the way before the bullet struck him.

  Cursing under his breath, Steele took his shot. It caught the man in the leg, but still he didn't fall. He kept moving forward.

  Angry, the assassin took another aim at the dog.

  Steele shot him again.

  Cletus launched himself at the hired killer an instant later. The dog knocked him off his feet as he bit the hand that held the weapon.

  "Sic him, boy," Steele said gleefully. "Tear his arm off."

  By the time he reached them, the assassin was down and out from the trank.

  Steele stood over him, contemplating what they should do. "You really ought to let me put a bullet right between his eyes, Syd," he said into his earpiece.

  Syd's soft voice reminded him of something that was easy to forget. "We're the good guys, Steele. 'He who fights too long against dragons becomes a dragon himself; and if you gaze too long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze into you.' "

  He spat on the ground in disgust. "What the hell is that? Nietzsche?"

  "Very good," she said, her voice filled with awe.

  Steele curled his lip. Being good sucked, and he ought to know. What had it ever gotten him in his life? Being good cost Brian his life.

  And being bad cost you yours...

  He sighed irritably. There was something to be said for that. In one heartbeat, he'd gone from decorated soldier to despised convict.

  Cletus took off running toward the woods.

  "Wait there, Slim," Jack said in his ear. "We're coming up, and you don't need to be moving him while you're wounded. Let us help you."

  Help...you...

  The words went through Steele's head two seconds before he realized something.

  The assassin wasn't alone.

  "Shit!" he snarled as someone opened fire on him.

  Twelve

  S teele dodged for the trees.

  How stupid could he be? He'd been there at the hardware store with Syd when they'd seen the guy's backup, watching them. How could he have forgotten that little nugget so easily?

  Moron!

  Luckily, whoever was helping the assassin was panicking. He was spraying the whole area with bullets, not taking time to aim.

  "What's happening?" Jack asked in his earpiece.

  "Obviously, I'm being shot at."

  "By who? I thought the assassin was neutralized."

  "He is. But apparently he brought along a playmate." Steele dodged behind a tree an instant before a hail of bullets shattered the bark. He felt the stitches in his shoulder give way as pain tore through his arm again.

  "Sit tight," Jack ordered. "The cavalry's coming."

  "The cavalry better move its ass," Steele muttered under his breath as he reloaded the trank gun. The trank jammed. Steele cursed as he struggled to clear the trank's frayed end in the chamber. He placed the second round between his teeth as he tugged at the first one.

  The bullets stopped.

  Steele leaned back against the tree and willed his heart to slow its rapid pounding so that he could hear what the other guy was up to.

  He heard the faint sound of feet stealthily approaching him.

  Move damn it, move, he snarled at the jammed trank.

  But it was useless. The trank wasn't interested in making his life any easier.

  The backup assassin was coming closer...

  Closer.

  Steele pressed himself against the tree as he turned his head so that he could watch the man's shadow near him.

  He heard the distinct sound of the man exchanging the magazine. Seizing the moment, Steele stepped away from the tree and swung his rifle at him, catching him upside his head with the stock.

  Dazed, the man stumbled back.

  Holding the rifle barrel with one hand, Steele grabbed the trank from his teeth and sank it deep into the assassin's arm.

  The man let out a curse as he rushed him. Unbalanced, Steele fell back and stumbled. He hit the ground hard, the assassin on top of him. The man pulled a hunting knife out from his belt. Steele let go of his rifle to catch the man's forearm in his hands.

  The man clawed at his face as he pressed forward.

  Steele ground his teeth as he prayed for the tranquilizer to permeate the man's system. The man delivered two more blows to his head before he was pulled free. The knife sliced into Steele's arm as the assassin was lifted off his chest and flung to the ground.

  Sucking his breath in at the pain, Steele covered the new wound with his hand as he watched Jack kick the man repeatedly.

  Two seconds later, a gunshot rang out, echoing in the trees around them.

  The assassin's helper went limp.

  "Jack!" Syd said, placing herself between him and his victim. "What did you do?"

  "That bastard shot at my dog!" He moved her out of his way as he went for the dead man.

  "Jack! Steele needs attention."

  Jack was about to stomp the body when her words finally penetrated his anger. He turned to look at Steele, who was still lying on the ground.

  Syd felt her heart sink as she saw the bleeding wound on Steele's arm. She ran toward him and fell down by his side. She felt terrible about his newest injury.

  "See what happens when you don't kill them," Steele said, his dark eyes accusing her.

  "All right, you win. Next time, kill the bastards."

  Those dark eyes of his narrowed accusingly. "You're not funny."

  "I know," she said honestly.

  Jack helped him to his feet. "We need to get that taken care of." He indicated Steele's wound with a tilt of his head.

  Then he looked at the hired killer, who was still lying motionless. By the glint in his eye it was obvious he wanted to kill the assassin too.

  Syd sighed. "We need to secure the killer first."

  "You take Steele, and I'll handle him."

  She gave Jack a suspicious look. "Can you handle him, or will he have an unfortunate accident too?"

  Jack grumbled under his breath. "I'll hog-tie him without any more harm. Unless he wakes up and tries to escape. Then what I do to him while trying to reapprehend him isn't my fault."

  Syd let out an exasperated breath. But there was nothing she could really do with Jack. He was a man with his own mind. The best she could do was get Steele to safety and hope that Jack didn't play too rough with their captive.

  As she looked at Steele and saw the heavy stain of red seeping through his sweatshirt, all thoughts of the assassin fled. "Oh, my God, are you okay?"

  "You ever nick yourself while shaving?"

  Completely confused by his question, she nodded. "Yeah."

  "You know the burn you get that hurts like hell?"

  "Yeah."

  "This is nothing like that. It's a lot worse."

  She rolled her eyes at his misbegotten humor.

  "I'm just a little lightheaded," Steele said as he stumbled. "You can help Jack. I can make it back to--"

  "No. It sounds like you're one step away from passing out from blood loss."

  "I don't pass out."

  She had to smile at his bravado. "It's okay not to be Superman, Steele. Here's the thing. I know you're human, and I like you that way."

  His face softened as he placed his arm around her shoulders. "Good, 'cause I feel like shit, and all I really want to do is sit down and find some serious pain meds. You still got the bottle the doctor gave you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then find me a bed and let me sleep."

  His voice reminded her of a little boy. And those words more than anything else told her just how badly he was hurt. "Okay. You got it."

  She wrapped her arm around his waist and held his hand, which was still draped over her shoulders. It wasn't a lover's embrace, and yet it made her strangely hot. She really did like this man, for all his sarcasm and venom.

&n
bsp; And she hated that about herself. Syd prided herself on being above the shortcomings of an "emotional" woman. She could be just as detached and businesslike as any man. Her mother had been a very gentle and sweet woman who had given up a great career in the business world to marry her father and raise them.

  It was an unfortunate curse that two people couldn't pursue two high-profile jobs simultaneously and raise a family. Someone had to give, and she didn't want it to be her. She wanted to be the successful professional her mother hadn't been able to be. Not to mention, she had a calling.

  She'd sworn on Chad's grave that she would never allow another child to die so needlessly if she could help it.

  But Steele made it easy to forget that harder side of herself. Something inside her felt giddy around him. Soft.

  And Syd Vicious was anything but soft.

  She didn't speak as she helped him back into the mine shaft and led him to Jack's command center. Steele had just sat down on the couch when Cletus came running into the room after them.

  The dog launched himself at Steele, who sucked his breath in sharply.

  "Easy, old fellow."

  The dog licked his chin before bounding off again.

  Syd went to her bag, only to remember that in the confusion of leaving the hotel, she'd left his meds after all.

  "Uh-oh."

  "What?"

  She gave him a sheepish look. "I didn't get them. Sorry."

  Disappointment flashed across his face, but he quickly recovered. "It's okay."

  "Maybe Jack has some." But Syd felt awful as she went back to him and held a makeshift bandage to his savaged arm. She could feel the well-developed muscles flexing under her hand. "You need to hold still."

  Steele leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. She watched him with a foreign tenderness in her breast while he rested.

  It amazed her that he trusted her enough to close his eyes and let his vulnerability show. This man didn't trust many people, and she was now one of the small handful that he did.

  A smile of satisfaction hovered at the edges of her lips.

  At least, until she heard Jack returning. Sobering, she turned her head to see him dragging the unconscious assassin inside. He really had hog-tied the man. Jack shoved him roughly against the wall.

  Then, he moved to a small Army locker under the center table.

  Frowning, she watched Jack rummage in it a few minutes before he brought what appeared to be an Army ammunition box to her. He flipped it open to show her bandages, alcohol, salve, and medical tape.

  "If you root around in there, I have some Tylox too. That should help with the pain."

 

‹ Prev