Spider Game (GhostWalkers 12)

Trap was there before him, catching his arm, holding back the punch. His piercing blue gaze met Cayenne's. They stared at each another while Pascal's body shuddered and slowly began to crumple. Trap let his arm go so that he fell in a heap very close to his brother. Both had their eyes wide open, but neither could move.

"What are you doing here?" Cayenne demanded, her hands on her hips.

"Saving your pretty little ass."

Her chin went up. Her eyes narrowed. That only brought his attention to the beautiful green surrounded by all those thick, luxurious lashes. He really wanted her eyes open when he was moving inside of her.

She toed Pascal. "I didn't need help."

"I wasn't saving your ass from them." There was contempt in his voice.

Pascal's eyes blinked. The fury should have set the island on fire.

Trap switched to telepathy, a much more intimate form of speech. Even if Pascal and his brother had their memories removed, he didn't want even a residue of his conversation with Cayenne in their minds. I was saving you from yourself. Go home. I'll be there tomorrow. Make a list of whatever you need and I'll get it for you. You want money or need it, you're a GhostWalker. The money will be put into an account for you. We have a collective one, and each GhostWalker has received compensation. Whitney's daughter sets up an account for each of us through a trust.

Something moved in her eyes. Something that made his heart jerk hard in his chest. Her chin lifted, but she followed his lead. For the perfect ones, not the flawed ones. I'm supposed to be terminated, not compensated.

Damn it, Cayenne.

I make my own way.

By robbing? Do you get some kind of thrill from it? This is fucking bullshit and you know it. Go home. I'll meet you there tomorrow.

It's my home. You stay away. She sounded stubborn. She looked stubborn.

I bought it. I renovated it. You know it belonged to Whitney, and he set up Braden there to finish his dirty work. He had all kinds of ways in and out built into the place. He had passageways in the walls. I took out the crematorium and the cells below and added in stairways to the lower level. The place is my home, and it can be your home as well, but no more of this bullshit, Cayenne. Sooner or later the cops will get involved, or worse, the military. If they send an investigator, you're in trouble.

She toed Pascal. They never remember.

There are already rumors. Why do you think I spent the last few days sitting in that fucking place counting peanut husks on the floor? He snapped it at her, rather shocked that he was losing patience. He always stayed cool. She just got under his skin with the vulnerable expression she didn't even know she wore.

She stepped right up to him and put both hands flat on his chest, staring up into his eyes. Her voice dropped low. Intimate. Sliding under his skin and traveling like a fireball, rushing through his bloodstream to settle in his groin.

There's no need to worry about me, cher, I can take care of myself. She lifted her face to his.

There was no denying her. Her mouth was pure heaven. He already had the taste of her there. His hands framed her face, and he bent and took possession of her mouth. She melted into him. Her mouth moved under his, her tongue sliding and then dancing along his, sending spirals of heat through his body. He wanted her with every breath he took.

He had to breathe for both of them, unable to stop kissing her. She tasted exotic and rare, like a flower he'd stumbled across. Storms. Moody. The taste of a wild wind, elusive and spinning out of control. He drew her closer, locking her to him, uncaring that the Comeaux brothers lay at his feet, unable to move, paralyzed by something she'd injected into them through a bite.

Her mouth was paradise and he could kiss her forever. No one had ever made him feel the way she did--the ferocious burn in his belly and the fire rolling through his veins with a vengeance. He knew she felt it too. The moment his mouth had come down on hers, she'd ignited as if he'd lit a match to a stick of dynamite.

His hand moved down her spine to the curve of her ass. He had to admit, she had the most beautiful body he'd ever seen. He half lifted her against his heavy erection.

Trap. She murmured his name softly. Intimately. Into his mind. You didn't come alone, did you?

She would have to be the voice of reason. Even if Pascal and Blaise didn't remember what had taken place, Wyatt was out there too. He couldn't very well take her like some crazy animal in the middle of the swamp. She deserved so much more.

He came up for air and rubbed his face in the soft silk of her hair. He wasn't certain that helped him gain control. Her hair felt sensual moving over his skin.

Baby, we need a bed and hours and hours to be alone.

I agree. She nuzzled his neck. His throat. Blazed a trail of fire from his throat to his chest. Who is with you?

Wyatt. And he isn't happy about your visits. He's afraid someone will shoot you accidentally, just the way I am. I'll be moving in by tomorrow night. As much as I want to be with you, don't make the mistake of coming to Wyatt's house again without first meeting everyone.

You take a lot for granted, don't you?

Her mouth felt so good against his bare skin. Her hands had unbuttoned his shirt, fingers sweeping over the muscles on his chest.

I don't take you for granted, Cayenne. You're a fucking miracle to me. No one has ever made me feel like this. I haven't had a home or a family of my own, not in a very long while. I never wanted a woman for my own until I laid eyes on you.

He knew it was too much to give her--to admit. It made him vulnerable to her, but she needed to know he was playing this for keeps. He'd thought about it. Weighed it in his mind. Analyzed it from every angle. That was what he did, even when it came to his emotions--especially when it came to his emotions. She was worth it; he would never find another woman to suit his needs.

She hesitated, her ear against his heart. Her hands smoothed over his chest. Don't say things like that, Trap. You don't know me. You don't know what I am. I have no past. I have no future. You can't tie yourself to me, not even in your mind.

I'm in your mind, baby. I see you. What's inside of you. The enhanced you matches the enhanced me. Your mind can give mine the challenge I need. You're going to be wild in bed. I need wild. I need you. You're in my mind. You tell me you don't think I suit you. That I don't belong to you.

He wanted to kiss her again and his hands framed her face, but she didn't move, pressing herself tightly against his chest, burying her face against him this time. He swore he felt tears on his skin.

Are you crying? His hand came up to the back of her head. He soothed her with gentle caressing strokes down that wild streak of red. I'm taking this too fast for you. You have to be overwhelmed just getting out of that cage. Being free. It takes getting used to, not having that structure, but I swear to you, baby, I'll teach you all about living free. Doing what you want to do. Living the way you want to live. You aren't that creature in the cage they were all afraid of. You're a beautiful woman, and I can give you that. Let me teach you how to live. Let me give you the things you deserve.

Stop, Trap. You have to stop. She sounded desperate.

Her breath caught in her throat, and he felt the bite--painful as the venom went in. He kept his arms around her, still smoothing the caresses over her hair while she held him tight. He analyzed the effects of the poison as it entered his system. Clearly her bite injected neurotoxins that affected the nervous system.

I'm sorry, she whispered intimately into his mind. You have to stay away from me. You have to. I'm terrified of you. Nothing--no one else terrifies me, only you. I can deal with everything else. Everyone is an enemy. I'm on my own and no one can hurt me. But you--you can, and I don't dare let you close. I'll protect myself from you. I will, Trap. Please leave me alone.

The toxin was fast acting. He would have gone down hard had she not been supporting his weight. He was a big man and heavy, all muscle and solid. As small as she was, she was strong. She lowered him very gently to

the ground.

Wyatt, I'm okay, let her go. His first thought was to save her ass from his friend, who would be tempted to blow her head off, seeing him go down.

Wyatt's got to be close, she continued. I'll fade into the swamp and watch over you until he comes for you. Please listen to me this time. You can't follow me. You can't tempt me. I know you don't want to hurt me, but eventually you would. I can't take that kind of hurt. I just can't.

She smoothed back his too-long hair. He had a lot of it, thick and unruly. He never took the time for haircuts and right then he was glad. Her fingers tunneled deep, felt good on his scalp as she stroked caresses through his hair, almost as if she were helpless to do anything else.

I wish my voice would work on you, Trap, so you could forget all about me. I've never had anything good in my life. Nothing at all. I wouldn't know the first thing about making you happy, and I refuse to be taken care of. I have to feel like an equal, and I don't know how to give anything back to you. She bent over him and brushed kisses over his mouth.

His heart stuttered. He might be unable to move, but his brain worked, and she was giving him more of herself than she realized.

Very reluctantly she lifted her head and dashed at her face with her fingers, as if brushing away tears. You remember what I said, Trap. All of it. I will protect myself. I didn't inject you with very much toxin, any more than these two idiots. At least I hope not. I was . . . disturbed. And just so you feel better about what I do, I don't kill them. And I watch over them until they get on their feet. I just move my boat and then lie low until they're safe. None of them ever learn their lesson. They aren't very good men.

He knew that. It did make him feel better that she watched over her victims to ensure nothing happened to them until they were back up and functioning again. Still, he wasn't going to let her have this one ever again. He was already breaking down the properties in his body, analyzing every reaction he had. He needed to get to his lab fast. Very fast, before the toxin disappeared.

Cayenne brushed another kiss over his mouth and stood, her eyes moving over his face, and this time he knew for certain there were tears shimmering in her eyes. He hated that she was close to crying. That she thought it was over between them. That he'd just give her up because she could inject toxin with a bite. He was highly intelligent. He had been certain all along that she could paralyze. He was also absolutely positive that if she wanted to, she could kill with a bite. Pepper, Wyatt's wife, could. Clearly Whitney had performed experiments in the hopes of coming up with the perfect assassin. A little thing like that wasn't going to deter him.

His eyes followed Cayenne as she removed wallets, took out the cash and shoved the wallets back in pockets. She crouched over the Comeaux brothers, whispering softly. He found, just as the first time he'd ever met her, and then in the bar, that her voice definitely had a compulsion buried in it. Beautiful, perfectly pitched tones. Sensual. Her voice slipped into a man's mind and took control.

Trap wasn't entirely immune, but he had strong barriers. He was psychic as well, and he worked at creating barriers in his mind. His filters, like those of the others experimented on, had been removed in order to allow their psychic abilities to expand. Without filters, they were wide open to all kinds of assault.

Peter Whitney had begun his experiments on children, little girls he'd taken from orphanages, throwaways he called them. The first team of GhostWalkers had the most problems. With each group, Whitney had learned, and he'd continued to try for the perfect soldier. Team Four had the benefit of the doctor correcting his mistakes, but they still needed to build those shields to help with the continual assault on their brains.

"You won't remember me. Or that you still had cash. You drank a lot tonight and when you wake fully, you'll just feel very, very drunk," she whispered to the Comeaux brothers. "You won't remember that Trap or Wyatt were here either."

With one last remorseful glance, she looked at Trap. Then she stepped into the water and onto her boat. He couldn't turn his head to watch her go. He listened for the sound of the engine as it moved away from him.

Footsteps. Wyatt was there immediately, crouching beside him, reaching down to take his pulse. "Well, now, bro. That didn' go so well for you, did it? I thought that woman was goin' to strip you nekkid and have her wicked way with you or I would have moseyed on over sooner."

Shut up. You're enjoying this.

Wyatt laughed and reached down, shoulder to Trap's belly. His eyes weren't laughing. He heaved him up and started back in the direction of his boat. "I've already alerted the boys. They're waiting on the pier to greet you and welcome you home."

You would do that. You couldn't just keep this between us?

"Hell no. And by that, I mean hell no." Wyatt moved easily, as if Trap didn't weigh anything. "The great Trap Dawkins bested by a little bitty woman. She took you down so fast, so easily. It was a thing of beauty. I did record it, just so the others could see it."

This toxin is going to wear off and then I'm going to shoot you.

"Yeah, but in the meantime, I get to tell everyone about this. I think the other teams ought to know as well. They all revere you. This is going to show them you're human just like the rest of us."

Take me to the lab and draw blood. I'm going to find a vaccine. Or an antidote. I want it in my bloodstream so the next time she thinks she has me at her mercy, she's going to get a surprise.

Wyatt put him carefully in the bottom of the boat and studied him. "I'm thinking we need to make this more comfortable for you." He reached down and crossed Trap's arms over his chest and stepped back in the rocking boat to survey his handiwork. "Much better. The boys are goin' to think you look like Sleepin' Beauty. Maybe Malichai or Mordichai will give you a little kiss."

Stop amusing yourself and get me to the lab. I need the toxins to be concentrated in my body so I can figure out a way to counteract this. And if any of them kisses me, just let them know I'm going to be injecting them with something very unpleasant while they sleep.

Wyatt threw back his head, laughing, as he started the boat. I trust your woman is going to watch over the Comeaux brothers. If an alligator got to them, they'd probably poison the poor creatures.

My woman is going to find out messing with her man isn't the brightest thing to do. And yes, she's watching out for them. Get us out of here. I don't want to give this toxin a chance to get out of my system. It must leave fairly quickly or she wouldn't have the time to stick around and guard her victims.

Victims. I like that. Trap Dawkins, a victim of his own woman. She totally scored on you. Kicked your butt thoroughly.

Trap wished his facial muscles worked so he could scowl at Wyatt, who was still laughing like a hyena, the sound floating out over the top of the motor.

CHAPTER 5

Wyatt whistled low, a two-beat note that traveled over the water. They were being followed. He was all about sound, and as much as Cayenne tried to muffle the engine on her boat, he could not only hear it, but feel the vibration in the air. She stayed well back, but she was definitely following.

Your woman is behind us. She stopped just at the entrance to the canal. She tied up so she's determined to make an approach by land.

Trap swore to himself. The woman was going to get herself killed if she kept encroaching on GhostWalker territory. The men were building a fortress with the idea that they could keep out Whitney's private army of supersoldiers. Every single one of them was determined to protect Wyatt's family. For them, Wyatt's family was their family, and they'd move heaven and earth to protect them.

Gino, circle around and get in behind her. Don't engage, Wyatt cautioned, but make certain you're in position if her intentions are anythin' but lookin' out for Trap. I don' think she's here to cause harm, so it's just a precaution.

Fuck that, Wyatt, Trap snapped.

I've got three little girls, Trap, Wyatt reminded.

Pepper and Wyatt's three daughters needed the relative isolation of the swa

mp. The GhostWalkers realized that in order to provide what the children needed to survive and thrive, they would have to band together to protect them, and that meant buying up all the land around Wyatt as well as most of the land they could acquire along the way to Trap's chosen location.

Fortunately, they had a good amount of money to put into their joint venture. The plan was that eventually each of the men would build a home for himself and his family. Each home would be protected, but in the end, should there be trouble, Trap's much larger place would be their ultimate fortress. Right now, it was Wyatt's home they protected. That meant Cayenne wasn't safe sneaking in.

What does she want, Trap? Wyatt understood Trap being upset, but he had to know security was going to be taken seriously.

Trap didn't know what Cayenne was doing following them. Cayenne was impossible to predict, mainly, he knew, because she didn't have a clue what she wanted. She was lost. Confused with her emotions regarding him. More, she'd lived her entire life in a cage. She really had no clue about life outside that environment. She had to be scared. Cayenne scared was dangerous.

Baby. He reached out to her. Sending telepathy over a distance was tricky. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. He was a strong telepath. Their connection was strong and growing all the time. That alone made her uneasy.

There was a long silence. Trap felt his brothers--his teammates--moving through the darkness, spreading out to cover their butts. Gino was a ghost in the swamp and would do exactly as Wyatt cautioned. Two would go high to the roof. He managed to swallow his fear. Ezekiel, Malichai and Mordichai were brothers and extremely close. They all had the same rough features. Scars. Longish hair. Cool, steady eyes and hands that never shook, not in the worst situations. Ezekiel and Malichai would lay up on the roof with sniper rifles, and Mordichai would go hunting on the ground. What Mordichai hunted, he found.

Malichai, Ezekiel, don't shoot her. You get her in your sights, you don't pull that trigger. She's mine. Ezekiel and Malichai never missed what they aimed at either.

What the hell happened to Trap, Wyatt? That was Malichai, ignoring his order as if he hadn't heard. Ezekiel didn't say a word. He didn't make an inquiry. He didn't flinch or hesitate, and that told Trap Cayenne was in trouble. More trouble than she'd ever been in, and he was lying paralyzed in the bottom of a boat.