Phantom Game (GhostWalkers 18)

Her laughter bubbled up. That sound, like bells skipping over water, slid into him, suppressing the worst in the predators and somehow bringing out the better traits. Just like that, everything changed for him. He didn’t feel jealous or possessive. Kyle and Jeff were part of his family. He considered Camellia his woman. Mate. His other half. Whatever anyone wanted to call it. Kyle and Jeff were his brothers. He wanted her to feel about them the way he did.

“You really are a miracle, Camellia.” He felt compelled to point this out.

“I wish it were me,” she answered.

They had reached the circle of rocks where he’d left Jeff and Kyle.

“Coming in,” Jonas called.

Jonas felt Camellia reach out along the networks as they approached the boulders. He stayed very still, needing to see how she communicated. Also, he wanted to know who she communicated with. And what she had to say to them.

7

Blue, Gray, circle back and watch carefully in case I should need you. Camellia wanted to trust Jonas, but as much as she could feel and read his every thought, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe in anyone wholly.

She was well aware Jonas would know she was calling on the owls to watch over her. She considered disconnecting from him, but then she wouldn’t be able to know what he was thinking or saying to his friends. The moment he sent them private messages, she would be gone. It wouldn’t take much to distract him. She would have help.

“Camellia, stop.”

Her gaze stayed on the ring of rocks. No one appeared in that circle. Her heart began to accelerate. “Where are they?”

“They knew I was returning and I wasn’t alone,” Jonas said.

Camellia cursed under her breath. She’d been so caught up with telling Jonas her guilty thoughts about Marigold that she hadn’t thought to consider what his friends might be doing. Immediately, she reached through the networks at her disposal, looking for them.

Both men gave off surprisingly low energy, as if they posed no threat to her, but she knew that wasn’t true, not when she lifted her gaze toward the sturdiest of the trees a distance away. She used her vision enhancements, studying the trees, looking for a sniper, anything that might give away the fact that one or both of the men on Jonas’s team had a rifle trained on her. It was unsettling that she couldn’t spot either of them, especially when she began to get that tingling awareness that told her she was in someone’s sights.

“Do you know where your friends are?” She wasn’t going to play games with Jonas. Either they were partners, or they weren’t. She switched her gaze to meet his.

“No. It’s difficult to find either one of them when they don’t want to be seen. They would have to move or make noise. I can reach them, but I would have to talk telepathically, and I don’t want you to think I’m talking behind your back.”

“Then include me.” She made it a challenge.

He nodded. “I will, but it’s possible they might think you’re part of a team and I’m a hostage. I might have to kiss you to convince them you’re not part of a larger conspiracy.”

She sighed. “You will never make me believe you don’t have a phrase or a word or code of some kind that allows your team to know you’re safe or for them to spread out and eliminate any other threats to you. You would never have to kiss anyone.”

He smiled at her, his eyes warming to a liquid antique gold. “That’s the only way I’m going to convince them I’m safe, honey. I’d never kiss an enemy.”

Jonas reached for her, keeping his movements slow, and telegraphing his intent the way he always did, giving her plenty of opportunity to retreat. She appreciated that he made it her choice whether or not to let him touch her. She hadn’t been physically touched in so long, just the sensation was addicting.

Camellia felt as if she needed the feel of his fingers on her skin. Or the way he curled his fist into her vest and drew her to him in that strong, relentless pull. He made her feel less alone and so much a part of him. She needed that. She’d felt alone for too long. She also needed to know she had choices. She’d spent the majority of her life without freedom. Every single decision in her life had been made by Whitney. She would die before going back to that sort of captivity again, no matter who held the keys to her cage.

Jonas’s hand was large, and his fist settled in the lapel of her vest, his knuckles brushing the thin material of her organic tee, sending a frisson of heat arcing through her body, snapping and sparking along all her nerve endings as if her electrical system were malfunctioning. It was impossible to look away from him, as much as she wanted to, as much as she knew she should be looking around to find his friends. She was trapped in his gaze.