The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 113

A groan comes from one of the attackers lying next to the sofa. I walk over, and he reaches out and grabs my leg, mouthing the word 'help'. I tilt my head and give him a sly grin. Without hesitation, I pull one of my guns out and fire a bullet into his brain. He thuds against the floor.
"Yep. All dead." I turn back to Monroe, putting my gun away again.
"Start packing up. We're taking you all to Headquarters for now."
"Yes, sir."
"Lily," Dresden hisses as they wheel him out of my office on a stretcher.
I run to his side and grab his hand in mine. "How you feeling, Python?"
He smiles, squeezing my hand. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Got punched in the face, but nothing serious."
"What happened to the guy that punched you?"
"Vlad stuck a hunting knife in his face."
"Good. I'll see you at HQ."
I squeeze his hand before letting go. Turning around, I almost slam into Blake's chest. I gaze up into his face, his brow creased with pain. He reaches out and runs his fingers over my cheek and neck. I'm sure bruises are already forming.
"I should have picked option B," he whispers, gently holding the side of my neck.
"Are you kidding? Look around. I've got bruises, but there are seventeen dead mother fuckers in your apartment."
"Well, I can't deny you're good at what you do." His voice seems strange . . . off somehow.
"What are you thinking?"
"Honestly, I don't know."
"This is what I do, Blake. Take it or leave it." My chest tightens.
"I'm yours, you know that. It's just hard to imagine the woman I make love to . . . being capable of this. I thought you with a sniper rifle was bad."
"This is all I know, and I can't just stop being who I am."
He leans down and presses his lips to mine. My blood flames at his touch. "I'm not asking you to change. I'll deal. I fell in love with you just the way you are." He runs his hand through my hair, a sad smile on his lips.
"Go pack your stuff. Necessities only," I say stepping back from him.
†††
I'm exhausted as we ride the elevator to the basement of the Interpol building. The elevator opens to a wall with a large steel door in the center. Hyde steps up to a keypad and presses a succession of buttons. The doors slide out, revealing a very open room, with at least twenty doors along the back wall.
"Welcome to Interpol's protection ward," he says stepping to the side.
The open room has a living space with two sofas and a television, a large kitchen area, and dining room with one of those huge tables that can seat at least eighteen.
"Each of you can choose a bedroom. If you want to make a list of groceries, we'll have them bought and brought down. You'll have to stay here until we clean up Mason's apartment and figure out our next move." Hyde steps toward the doors. "I'll be sending a doctor down to look over each of you."
"Well, I think we could all use some rest." I walk straight for the room furthest to the right.
Inside is a king size bed, two dressers, a decent closet, and a private bathroom.
Jackpot.