Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,25

Maksim with who Addy really was. The Arsenal wouldn’t believe the man standing before him was a mere attendant, which meant spinning yet another half-truth he didn’t want to place between himself and Addy.

But The Arsenal had remained out of sight. Good. Concern reflected on his friend’s face when he looked down at Kristof. He pulled out a shot. “You will not want this, but you must rest.”

“I will rest when we figure out what happened.”

Maksim’s eyebrows rose, but he continued preparing the shot. Stubborn bastard. “Iriana wants a list of those who may be responsible for tonight. Prepare it. I will review.” The unspoken order to leave his father off of the list loomed within their locked gazes. Kristof used Addy’s cover name even though Maksim knew who she truly was. He alone knew everything.

“Thank you,” Kristof added.

“Don’t thank me.” Anger deepened Maksim’s voice. “This shouldn’t have happened. We both know it.”

“We’ll find whoever did this and handle them like we always do.”

“Dima said Iriana covered you. She could’ve been killed.” Censure reflected on Maksim’s face. He’d been against Addy on his team without backup. Even though the man hadn’t known her, he knew how important she was to Kristof.

Kristof tensed. “I was apparently very lucky. The shooter missed major arteries and bones. The recovery will be easier. That lining you insisted for all my suits worked.”

“Clearly whoever is responsible was either an amateur or very skilled. The latter narrows the list considerably. Many of your enemies could not afford a professional sniper.”

“Make a list assuming both.”

“If he’s smart, he’s long gone.” Maksim administered the shot and clasped his good shoulder. “Rest. We will speak later. I have everything handled.”

“I don’t know who Maksim is, but he is definitely not an attendant,” Zoey said in the com.

No shit. Not only was he not a mere servant, Kristof trusted the man, who’d dispensed Kristof’s pain medication despite his initial refusal. Relief filled her. At least he’d rest and be in less pain now.

“The phone?” Addy asked.

“A burner of some sort. I’m hacking into it now, but HERA’s having the same problem with it that we did with Kristof’s.”

“Nothing new from it,” Jesse said.

“Not yet. Mary said she was going to try once baby Jessie is in bed,” Zoey said. “Maybe she can work her mojo and get some answers. Something about tonight’s shooting stinks.”

Her stomach vaulted into her throat. Kristof had almost been killed. If he hadn’t been wearing the protective layer… A shiver rippled through her. She shouldn’t give a damn. He was an asset, a necessary presence to achieve the mission.

Denial swarmed within her. Kristof was more than that. She couldn’t deny that fact even if she wanted to.

“I agree, but we need a direction before we chase our tails,” Addy said. “Maybe we’re reading too much into it. He has a lot of enemies.”

“True,” Zoey said. “I hate the fact we’re protecting him now.”

“We need him alive to get us into the auction,” Addy said. The mission-oriented argument slid from her easily, but a slew of more personal ones echoed within her mind. They’d once vowed to always have one another’s backs.

“Is that the only reason we’re doing this?” Beast asked in the com.

Addy couldn’t ignore the relief she’d felt when she realized he was okay. She owed Kristof nothing, but protectiveness filled her. No.

Anger.

Someone had gone after him while he was under her protection. They’d pay.

Assuming she could figure out who she was after.

“Get some rest while you can, Red,” Beast said. “Shep has surveillance up in a one-mile radius and we’ve got a perimeter established. Hopefully HERA has some intel for us by the time you wake up.”

Right. Rest.

“I’m going to take a shower then hit the rack.”

“Another shower?” Zoey asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just want to scrub down again. The first was quick and only got the blood off.”

“I’m here if you want to talk. You aren’t alone. You know that, right?”

“I know. Thanks.” She pulled out the com and set it on the bedside table.

The shower heated quickly—unlike the wreck of an apartment they’d been in. For a few brief minutes she was alone. No voices in her ear. No cameras. No one but her.

Heated water struck her achy body when she stepped into the shower moments later. Though she typically washed quickly, she propped her hands against the wall and leaned forward. Water sluiced down her hair and upper back.

Blood.

It’d coated her hands and body. A tremble settled there as