Page 56 of Play Dirty
Madigan ignored the pain searing across his cheek and managed to pin the man’s arms beneath him. The flare of fear in his eyes was so potent and satisfying, Madigan almost had a physical reaction to it. Bennington was right: Azrael had a humanity that Madigan lacked, and it was that particular aspect of Azrael that kept Madigan rooted to the earth, that he cherished.
Therewasone thing that Madigan was better at, however.
He pressed the muzzle of the gun to Bennington’s forehead and smiled down at the man. “I’m the better shot.”
Before he could squeeze the trigger, Bennington began seizing underneath him.
Madigan frowned and held the gun steady as the man’s chest bucked beneath him and then went limp, his eyes rolling up in his head.
“The fuck—”
Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he spied the syringe that had been in Azrael’s neck now protruding from Bennington’s thigh.
Azrael lifted his gaze to Madigan’s with a weak smile. “In close quarters, I’d dare say we’re both equally effective,jaanum.”
Madigan slid from Bennington’s body and shook his head, trying and failing to keep a matching grin from his face. “Couldn’t fucking let me have this one, huh? Not even in the name of romance?”
“You justshotme.”
“My intentions were pure. The end goal was protection. Quit,” he chided, when Az tried to bat him away from examining the hole Madigan had put in his shoulder just beside the strap of his Kevlar vest. There was blood, but not too much. The bullet had gone through the muscle as clean as Madigan had hoped it would, but Az would still need medical attention and rehab later down the road, he suspected. “My options were limited, given how that fucker was holding you. What’s that old saying? ‘Sometimes the only way out is through’?” He helped Az upright, propping him against the doorway, then grabbed his hand and pressed it over the wound. “Hold pressure here.”
“I think that’s usually meant to be taken figuratively, rather than literally. But what do I know? English is only my third language.” Az lifted an arrogant brow that was likely meant to annoy Madigan but had the opposite effect. “Regardless, I figured I had a little leeway.”
“Fine. The kill is yours. Congrats on your well-deserved reward,” Madigan grumbled, trying to staunch the beginnings of a smile. It didn’t work. His relief that Azrael was still breathing was too enormous.
“You think I care about the reward?” Az caught Madigan by the nape of his neck and pulled him in close.
“No.” Madigan brushed his lips over Az’s, the contact brief but full of intent.
Az held Madigan’s gaze a beat longer, and then inclined his chin. “You should probably check on Eastman.”
“He’s not dead?”
“Uncertain.” Az grimaced as Madigan urged him to put more pressure on the wound. “When I got in here, he’d already been shot. He had a pulse, but I didn’t linger. I went for that other door. Thought I got Bennington, but it was one of his guards. Bennington was an unwelcome surprise from behind.”
They both glanced toward the door as staccato bursts of gunfire sounded in the hallway. “Rest for a minute. I’ve got us covered. I’ll check Eastman.”
Madigan rose and rounded the desk where the doctor was lying on his side. From the new vantage point, he could see the pulse fluttering at his throat. “He’s alive.” Madigan crouched down next to him, confirmed that his pulse wasn’t too thready or faint and then scrutinized him more intently. Eastman groaned as Madigan pressed his fingers to his lower back. “Can you move your feet?”
Eastman moved the toe of his shoe.
“Good. We’ll get you fixed up.”
“You’re not going to kill me?” Eastman tilted his head, meeting Madigan’s eyes, more coherent than Madigan had given him credit for. And even more interesting, Madigan detected no fear in the man’s gaze, just overt curiosity.
“We made a deal. You fulfilled your end, presumably. We have questions we’ll want answers to. If it turns out that you betrayed us, then you’ll answer for that. Otherwise, you’ll be free to go.”
Returning to Azrael’s side, he smacked the man’s hands as he tore at the Velcro straps of his body armor. “Wait until we’re clear, then I’ll get you out of it.”
Az relented and rested his back against the sofa as Madigan reached out and gently wiped sweat from his brow. Az’s pallor gnawed at him, but when Madigan checked the wound again, Az rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Quit brooding over it like a hen. It hurts, yes, but I’ve had worse.”
“Should I take that as a personal challenge?” Madigan couldn’t quite muster the malicious smile he intended. He simply cared too damn much for Azrael.
“I’d prefer if our challenges were limited to the bedroom from now on,” Az said, and Madigan leaned forward to brush a kiss over his sweat-damp forehead.
The gunfire went quiet, and Cas’s voice came over the comm. “Report, Jonah?”
“Still on the rooftop. Entry points are clear again for now. I’ve got eyes on all of them. I’ll speak for Ronin since he’s out here wrapping up some loose ends.”