Free Retrieval by Lea Griffith Page A

bullet wound.
    He shook his head, dropped his hands into his lap, and prepared to catch a little shut-eye. Bleak was at the wheel, Morrissey was watching out for any and all comers, and Sebastian had done everything he could for the woman in front of him.
    He prayed they made it back to Chicago soon.

Chapter 7
    Eight hours later, Sebastian came awake suddenly, though his body remained motionless, as his senses flared outward to detect any threat. He noticed a pressure at his temple as the subtle fragrance of honey wafted across his nose.
    “I know you’re awake. Leave your hands on the bed, and your brains will stay where they are, which, right now is still inside your skull,” someone said beside him. Tight, but completely feminine, the tone was dead serious.
    The scent of gun oil, and the tang of metal drifted in the air. The pressure at his temple was the barrel of a gun. A very large semiautomatic pistol if he had to guess.
    “How did you get in here?” Sebastian asked inanely.
    And it was inane, because, honestly, what difference did it make how she got in? The question really should have been how was he going to get himself out of the line of fire and in a position to protect Sky? She was still out cold under the blanket he’d put over after they’d cleaned her up.
    “That would be a secret, and unless you have the password to our little club, no can do on the answering questions.” Then in a harder, colder tone the woman said, “Leave your hands on top of the bed. Bend your head forward—are you listening to me? Do it, or there will be some serious brain matter scattered on the wall beside you.”
    “Is this better?” Sebastian asked bending to do as she asked before things escalated.
    He really hated hurting women, but the danger a stray bullet posed for Sky at this point was a very real concern. He’d take this woman out in a heartbeat if she weren’t who he was beginning to suspect she was.
    “Good job. Ladies? They can be taught,” the woman said and then laughed huskily.
    She sounded a lot like Skylar. But she wasn’t; her smell was different, and the feel of the air she stirred didn’t make his heartbeat kick into a hard gallop.
    “So now, since you’re doing so well, put your hands behind your head. Great job.”
    The woman was starting to get on his nerves with her sarcasm. She moved at just that moment, and Sebastian struck. He stood swiftly, deflected the pistol. He pulled the woman toward him, turned her, and had her throat under his forearm in less than two seconds.
    “Thanks. I appreciate the encouragement. So how about you tell me who the fuck you are, and why the fuck you have a gun pointed at my head.”
    Sensing movement from someone else in the room, Sebastian lifted the pistol he’d filched off the woman and pointed it toward the other individual as he cocked the gun and said, “I’m a damn good shot. So if you move, I’ll be saying I told you so to a corpse.”
    His voice was hard and cold. It left no doubt that he would shoot first and ask questions later.
    “Well I can see why she went willingly then. Body, brains, and courage—quite a potent combination. But you’re missing a little something here, and I don’t think you’ve figured it out yet.”
    The woman, whose throat he presently had in a steel grip with his forearm, kept up the taunting.
    “I don’t think it matters right now. I just triggered an alarm, and there will be more than just me in here in about—oh look. Now,” Sebastian said as Bleak, Morrissey, and Rover entered the room, all of them loaded for bear and only half dressed.
    “What the fuck’s going on?” Morrissey asked grouchily, scratching his bare abdomen with one hand and holding a large pistol in the other.
    A swift intake of breath from the individual in the opposite corner of the room had all their heads turning toward the person still cast in shadows.
    “Bleak, flip that lamp beside you on, man,” Sebastian said.
    The muted