Murder Game (GhostWalkers 7)

There is no way my teams are in any way responsible, and I would have recognized the names. I've worked with all the members of both teams. No, this is an outside team, run by Whitney or someone else. They're connected to Whitney; there was no doubt in my mind before you ever found the puppet master with Whitney's taint on him.

Tansy let her breath out slowly. Whitney hadn't been content with working on a few men; he'd given enhancements to others, and obviously their psychological profiles hadn't shown they were dangerous, or maybe it was because they were that he had chosen them. And that was very, very scary. She turned her head and looked at Kadan.

You knew. All along, you knew.

He didn't look at her, but his mind brushed against hers. I suspected. I know these men and the others on my team. They are capable of killing, but not murder for pleasure. These killers are doing it for fun. It's literally a game to them.

"Kadan," the third man spoke. His voice was quiet, but it drew attention immediately. "If you have something to share about all this, do it. I've been traveling nonstop and I want to get home and see Dahlia. I don't like being away from her for too long."

It was obvious the man was aware that Kadan and Tansy were speaking telepathically. She looked him over. He had that same stillness in him that Kadan did. He was tall, with longer midnight black hair, bronze skin, and truly black eyes. Where Kadan's eyes were so blue they could appear black, this man had eyes the color of obsidian.

"Nicolas Trevane," Kadan introduced. "Sorry, Nico, we're still sorting things out. Tansy's parents have been taken hostage. I think Whitney is involved, and that he has a GhostWalker present at the house with the captives. They want Tansy to turn herself over to them or they plan on killing her parents. She had twenty-four hours. Eight of those are gone."

The three men looked from Tansy's face to Kadan's. Gator grinned again, this time his drawl teasing. "I take it that's not an option."

Kadan slid his hand down the curve of Tansy's back and then slipped his arm around her waist. "No."

Simple. Direct. That was Kadan.

Tansy sighed. "I drew a diagram of the house. We do have an escape tunnel, but Fredrickson knows about it."

With his arm tight around her, Kadan led the way into the dining room, where he spread several papers on the table. "The estate is quite large and probably well guarded. Fortunately, Tansy knows all the camera positions and has pinpointed them for us."

Kadan stepped back to allow the men to study the diagram of the house and estate, complete with as much information as Tansy could remember on where the guards were usually stationed, where cameras and dogs were located. He ran his hand up and down the curve of her spine, savoring the feel of her feminine outline.

Tansy glanced at him sharply. He wasn't looking at her, nor did he appear to be paying attention to her at all, several times bending close to the table to point out details to Ryland and Gator, discussing an entry and extraction plan. She tried to listen, finding the way their minds worked intriguing, but his hand was distracting. Several times he slid his palm over her denim-clad bottom, shaping her buttocks, his thumb brushing strokes of fire while his hand caressed her.

Don't. The other men were too sharp-eyed not to notice. It wasn't so much that she objected to them seeing him caress her, it was her reaction that was embarrassing. The elevated breathing she couldn't quite stop. Her nipples hardening. His touch affected her, no matter how featherlight it was.

Don't ever tell me I can't touch you. Any time. Any place. It sounded like a command. Low. Firm. A husky, velvet promise of retaliation, sexual in nature, that sent a wave of heat crashing through her body and dampening her panties.

But Tansy was in his mind and his lack of emotion concerned her. He was disconnected. Remote. Ice water once again flowed in his veins. He frightened her that way, so distant he didn't seem aware of any of the emotions a normal person would have. It was only his hand on her, the shape and texture of her, the scent of her, that kept a trace of feeling running through him. He clung to that small connection, but didn't seem aware that that was what he was doing.

As if to make certain she understood, his hand moved over her hips and up her rib cage, sliding along the side of her breast, back up to the nape of her neck. His fingers tightened until she turned her head. He leaned over. Casually. In charge. Taking his time. Daring her to defy him and pull away. If she hadn't felt that small flicker of need in him, she might have kicked him in the shins and told him to go to hell, but instead, she stood there quietly and waited for the touch and taste of him. There was an aura of sexual intensity surrounding him, and the moment they were close, his sheer magnetism overwhelmed her self-preservation and she seemed to just give herself to him, drawn like a moth to flame.

He took her mouth gently, not at all like the threat in his mind. She tasted his hunger and knew his need of her was elemental and deep and beyond even his understanding.

Kiss me back.

She wasn't certain why he needed her so much. Reassurance? He seemed so completely confident, she could barely believe that he felt in any way threatened by the presence of the other men. That seemed out of character. Her arms slid around his neck and she opened her mouth to his, feeling him inside her, stroking and tasting with that same gentleness that was so disarming.

Are you all right? She touched his cheek.

He lifted his head and smiled at her. No problems.

She wasn't sure she believed him, but he was already bending over the drawings. To the others he pointed out the gate with the cameras and guards.

"This booth is manned at all times. Cliffs back up to the house and they'd be difficult to climb, but not impossible from the ocean side. Fredrickson is bound to be looking at an entry from that side so he'll most likely step up the guards there."

"You don't think he'll believe I'll walk right in and give myself up?" Tansy asked hopefully.

"We have to assume he knows I went looking for you and that you're with me. You didn't use the radio to call your parents, you called from an untraceable, secure line. Fredrickson will know that. He'll be prepared for an assault team."

"So entry up the cliffs isn't going to be a good plan."

"We can wait for Tucker and Ian to report in, but let's assume not," Kadan said. His gaze shifted for a brief second to Ryland.

The dark-haired man eased his shoulders a little. "I could use some coffee, Kadan. Do you have any around here?"

"In the kitchen," Kadan said.

"I'll get it," Tansy said, glad for something to do. Planning assaults wasn't her forte. "Anyone else want some?"

Kadan waited until Tansy had taken their orders and left the room. He kept his voice low. "The package is expected to be hostile. There's a tie to Whitney. I want to bring them out quietly to a house only we know about and keep them under guard. If they don't tell us what we need, I'll have a private talk with them."

Ryland stirred, his gaze flicking toward the kitchen. "Kadan. Not if she's your choice. I'll take care of it."

Kadan shook his had. "My woman. My responsibility. I can live with it."

"She won't be able to."

"I have no problems doing whatever it takes to keep her safe, and she'll never know."

Nico shrugged his shoulders. "Your call, Kadan, but women have a way of finding out things you don't want them to know, and any one of us would do the job for you. Just give us the word."

"Appreciate it," he said gruffly, but he wouldn't shirk his responsibility. Not when it came to Tansy's safety, and especially because they were her parents and she loved them. If it came down to it, he'd take them out as quickly, painlessly, and humanely as possible.

Tansy returned with a collection of mugs, sugar, and cream. Kadan took the tray from her and placed it on the table.

"How's it coming?" She glanced at her watch. "And how soon do we leave?"

"I think we've about got this, baby. You'll stay in the safe house we're setting up for your parents. I'll have a

couple of my men there with you."

She scowled at him, shaking her head quickly. "No way. That was never part of the plan. I'm going with you. If something goes wrong, I have to be there to--"

"No." Kadan said the word quietly, his voice so low it was barely audible, yet it cut like a razor, demanding immediate compliance.

Tansy jerked away from the fingers that had settled gently around her wrist like a bracelet--except instead of getting away, she felt the fingers tighten into shackles, preventing her from moving anywhere.

"You won't be sacrificing your life for theirs. That's never been an option." His voice whispered like velvet, but cracked like a whip, lashing across her mind, burning his decree into her brain. He made a small effort to soften the order with an explanation. "We can't take you into combat, you'd be a liability."

This was the other side of Kadan. Immovable. His blue eyes were nearly black now, unfathomable, impossible to read. His expression remote.

The three other men drifted from the room, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever. She couldn't be alone with him, not when his mind held hers, determined to force his will on her.