Street Game (GhostWalkers 8)

Mack found himself smiling at the misleading nuggets of information. She hadn't changed much. She was less sure of herself with them when it came to work. She was picking and choosing what information she wanted to give them, but she had a difficult time not falling into the old pattern of camaraderie and friendship.

"And Kane," Jaimie added, "I don't use a gun."

Kane didn't buy any of it and was being unusually stubborn, not letting her off the hook. "So how did you know?" he persisted.

Jaimie curled up away from Mack, settling back into the pillow, snuggling beneath the covers. "I guess you must have been a little noisier than you thought." There was a lazy note of humor now.

"Damn it, Jaimie." Kane was frustrated. "That's not possible."

"No?" She was laughing openly at him now. "Then it had to be my acute sense of smell. Take your choice. What other explanation is there?"

Kane's curse was only partially muffled by his sleeping bag. Beneath his hand, Mack could feel Jaimie's shoulder shake slightly with laughter. She had managed to elude Kane's questions again, the same questions he and every instructor and field operative she had been pitted against had asked.

Mack lay still, savoring the feel and scent of Jaimie. His arm curved possessively around her waist. Her breathing stopped for a moment, her body tense. He smiled to himself as she fought with herself. Which was the lesser of the two evils? Let him have this one little thing? Or provoke him into something more dangerous by protesting? She left his arm in place with a soft little sigh.

Mack was fairly satisfied with the way things had gone. They had danced around each other, but Jaimie had missed him every bit as much as he had missed her. It was there in her eyes. She was determined to bring them to a brother/ sister relationship, to treat him as she would Kane or Javier, but he was just as determined to get her back. And he never stopped when he wanted something, whether it was personal or work. He would find a way around every argument.

His grip on her tightened involuntarily. He had known, two years ago, he was falling deeper and deeper under her spell, but he hadn't known how much a part of him she really was. Until he woke up one morning to find her gone. Life went from laughter and adventure to a bleak, desolate kind of hell. Oh, he had functioned, like an automaton, but the best part of him was gone.

He knew the exact moment she let go and drifted off to sleep. She slept with all the trusting innocence of child, her body warm and pliant, her face so beautiful he ached inside. Everything masculine and protective welled up in him along with very primitive possessiveness. He eased his body beneath the covers, molding around her, a kind of heaven and hell. His arm clamped around her, his chin resting on her silky head.

Slow, smoldering desire flared into urgent demand. His body burned for her, an unmerciful, relentless, savage need. His skin crawled with it, his head pounded. The heat was a living flame until every inch of his skin was burning. Mack McKinley was a man who lived with the truth about himself. He recognized his strengths and weaknesses, he acknowledged the hidden demons he controlled with absolute discipline. He carried a kind of ice-cold rage in him, but still, this shook him. This felt out of control, beyond control even. He didn't need the complication of fierce, combustible chemistry raging between them. He wanted to court her slowly and carefully, seal her to him for eternity. This time she wasn't getting away from him.

Jaimie moved in her sleep, the curve of her bottom sliding invitingly, painfully, over his throbbing, aroused body. Mack nearly groaned out loud. So, okay, this wasn't working out the way he had planned. He rolled over, away from Jaimie, silently cursing his body's raging need. He had been with her hundreds of times, taking her each night, almost every morning they'd been together, but the hunger had never been so strong, so urgent. Just the scent of her filled him with such a powerful need he wasn't certain he had the strength to resist. The urge was almost animalistic. He shifted positions again, trying to ease the relentless aching.

A soft chuckle floated tauntingly from the center of the room. "Can't sleep?" Kane asked.

"Go to hell," Mack growled, resisting the urge to throw something.

"I think you're screwed, Mack. If it's as bad as I think, that bastard paired you two. You were already attached physically and emotionally. Good luck."

Mack knew Kane was referring to Dr. Whitney's infamous breeding program. He had paired GhostWalker males with some of the females. Kane had served a short period of time at one of the breeding facilities--in fact, he'd aided some of the women in escaping. Brian had also served at one of Dr. Whitney's facilities. Few knew where the doctor was working; he moved in secret and was heavily guarded at all times. Mack and Kane had come to the conclusion that it was not in anyone's best interest to work with or near him.

Kane had testified in a closed hearing, as had Brian, turning over evidence of Whitney's breeding program to Sergeant Major Griffen, as per the chain of command, but the meeting had been top secret and no one knew the outcome. The men had rejoined Team Three under Colonel Wilford's command and had gone on several missions. Griffen worked directly under the colonel and presumably had turned all evidence and reports over to him. Kane didn't talk about his time with Whitney, but he hadn't slept much since and he'd definitely been searching for someone. Mack was fairly certain it was one of the women he'd helped escape the breeding compound. Mack still had trouble believing such a thing had existed.

"Tell me about pairing. What is that?"

Kane sighed. "Are you sure you want to know? Sometimes it's better to keep your head in the sand."

"Tell me about Whitney," Mack insisted.

Mack did his job and took his men where the sergeant major directed them. They had a damn good record when it came to rescuing hostages from cities where no one knew who was the enemy and who was innocent. He enjoyed being enhanced with all the added things it allowed him to accomplish, but the rumors he was hearing about some of the experiments Whitney had conducted along with the genetic enhancements made him realize they were dealing with someone who might be brilliant but as mad as a hatter.

"He's been allowed to do whatever he wanted without answering to anyone for so long that he believes himself above the law, above even the president. He considers himself a great patriot and defender of the country. He believes the end justifies the means."

"So basically you're telling me that everything Jaimie told me about him and his experiments is probably true and I should have listened to her."

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying. I said it back then too. She's too damn smart to ignore."

"I hear a reprimand in there."

"I'm just saying, you hurt Jaimie again and I'm going to tear out your heart and feed it to you."

Kane sounded casual enough, but he wasn't kidding. Kane, like most of his team, was protective of women. Mack's mother had been the one stable influence most of them had. All of them had developed what the psychs referred to as being overprotective. And maybe they all were, but when it came to women, they didn't like anyone messing around with them.

Kane had risked his career, his life, everything he was, to do the honorable thing and help the women get out of the facility where they were being held. Orders or not, as far as Kane was concerned, what Whitney had demanded of them wasn't honorable. He had done everything in his power to take the evidence to the commanders to get it stopped. Now Kane had a deep distrust of Whitney and the chain of command, which meant Mack did also. Ever since Kane had returned from that assignment, Mack had watched his best friend's back even closer.

"I hear you."

"And the next time she tells you something is a red flag, put your damned ego aside and listen to the woman."

"I'm all about the listening." Mac

k sounded as pious as possible.

Kane rolled over and groaned. "I'm getting back on the couch. I swear, if we're staying here for any length of time, I'm buying a bed tomorrow."

"We're staying. And you're getting soft. You've slept on the ground more than you've slept in a bed over the last few years. You're also getting old."

"Says the boss from his superior position on a nice soft bed."

"It's a single bed, Kane. It may be soft, but there isn't much to it, and lying next to her is killing me."

"Then move, you stubborn bastard."

"Not a chance. I'm establishing my territory. She's not going to let me back into her life so easily. She's made up her mind to stay away from me."

Kane tried to make himself smaller on the couch. He had a thick, heavily muscled chest and big arms. One kept flopping off the couch uncomfortably.

"You know, Mack, things aren't always black and white. Sometimes, for whatever reasons, we have to do things that we can't live with. They just sit in the gut and keep you up at night. We're all wired differently. You have a gift, something inside you that lets you make a decision and live with the consequences. The rest of us aren't so lucky. Jaimie had to do what she did to survive. After what I saw in that compound with Whitney, if I could get out, I would, but they aren't going to let any of us go. Not now. It isn't about the money and training anymore. We're too dangerous to them."

Mack was silent, turning the words over in his mind. Kane had come back troubled from his last assignment. Not only troubled, but suddenly very leery of every mission, questioning everything, as Jaimie had. Mack had known then that the questions in his mind, the doubt rising up with each new nugget of information about Whitney and his experiments, weren't just because Jaimie had planted the seed and suspicion was growing.

Kane and Brian had come to him, careful of what they said, fearful that they were on a death list and not wanting Mack to be there with them. He had gone up the chain of command and set into motion a hearing. He hadn't been allowed to go with his men.

"I'm sorry, Kane. You're right. I should have listened to her. I should have investigated what Whitney was doing before I took us all down this path. Once we were on it, I just wanted us all to survive." He had watched over them, trying to figure out what each of them had been gifted--or cursed--with and how best to cope with it.