Power Game (GhostWalkers 13)

Mordichai, Ezekiel's brother, laughed more than some of the other members of his team. He was a master sergeant as well. Unlike his brother, he wasn't a doctor, but she knew to be in the PJs he had to be good at everything he did. She didn't know much about him, what his skills were, but he had steady hands and eyes that saw everything, even when he was joking around.

Lieutenant Draden Freeman was hands-down gorgeous. Like drop-dead gorgeous. He didn't belong in the military--he belonged on the cover of a magazine. She'd heard him referred to as "Sandman," but she had no idea why. He ran all the time. Day or night. When he wasn't running and he'd taken guard duty at night, he did martial arts, long, complicated katas, sometimes including weapons. He was also a doctor, and she couldn't imagine any woman going to him and not being embarrassed. No one looked good when they were ill, and who wanted to be in his presence when they looked terrible?

The fourth man was one she hadn't seen much of. His name was Rubin Campo, and she knew that he liked birds. He was always looking at them, watching them intently for long periods of time, and he even had a couple that appeared to hunt with him. He was a chief master sergeant and quiet about it.

She noted that no others had come with them. None of the SEALs training at Stennis. No one else who might interfere with whatever they planned on doing with her.

Ezekiel slumped down as if he were too exhausted to hold himself upright. Her heart stuttered. Maybe he really had suffered a great blood loss, so much so that his body was shutting down. She couldn't hold him up because her arms were tied behind her back. She couldn't say anything because Gino had tied his ratty shirt around her mouth.

She glanced at his brother and the other men. None of them seemed to be aware that he was having a problem. The moment he moved close to her, they all should have gone on alert. Arrogant asses. They thought she wasn't a threat because she was a woman? Well, okay, right now she didn't feel threatening toward him, only a little protective, which made no sense to her.

Ezekiel moved again, this time dropping his head into her lap. She held her breath. Gino was there instantly, gripping her hair, holding her head away from his friend, while he reached in with two fingers to check Ezekiel's pulse. She wanted to smirk. At least he was smart enough to realize she could inject the venom through the shirt if she wanted to. She didn't. There was something about Ezekiel that made it impossible for her to want to kill him.

"He needs more blood. We interrupted them," Gino said. He looked down into her eyes. "I'm taking off the gag, but if you try to bite me, or Zeke, I swear, I'll kill you, regardless of what Zeke has to say."

Bellisia waited calmly for him to remove the foul material from her mouth. She thought about spitting at him, but it was so undignified. Instead she tried to moisten the inside of her very dry mouth several times.

"How long were you giving him blood?"

She thought about not answering, but what was the point? She didn't want Ezekiel to die. On the other hand, she didn't want to help them in any way. They were all doctors and medics. They could figure it out. She shrugged. "Minutes. A few. He said he needed blood several times, but I didn't know how to do that for him. I was afraid if I did, I wouldn't be able to get him back home."

Gino exchanged a look with Mordichai. The engine picked up speed and in spite of the darkness of the night, regardless that they weren't running with lights, they sped through the river very fast to get Ezekiel home. She knew, by the direction they took, that they weren't headed to Stennis. That just reinforced her opinion that they had their own agenda, like returning her to Whitney.

"That doesn't make sense," Mordichai said. "He wouldn't know her blood type."

"He would if he thinks Whitney paired her with him," Gino corrected. "He asked me to look into her while he was training. I went to the restaurant where she works. In all honesty, there was nothing to indicate she was a GhostWalker, but something about her put me on edge."

Her chin jerked up and she glared at Gino. "You aren't a very nice person, are you? You don't even know how to be nice."

He ignored her. "I didn't get the vibe from her, but then she wasn't using her talents on anyone."

"He needs blood fast," Draden said, making the decision. "What's your blood type, Bellisia?"

She could just lie. Let them think she wasn't compatible. Maybe he'd die right there on the river. Damn him. Damn her. She knew she wouldn't let that happen. She couldn't. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly. Ezekiel Fortunes was her greatest enemy, but she couldn't stand the idea of him dead.

"Bellisia." Draden was already searching for a vein in Ezekiel's arm. "Tell me right now."

"I'm RH-null."

Draden suppressed his reaction. One of shock. The men exchanged long looks and then Draden caught up her arm, looking for veins. She was used to that. She hated needles, but she'd been a pincushion for Whitney.

RH-null meant she was born without any antigens in her blood. None. She was the perfect donor. One that would be sought after by every hospital, every scientist. Everyone. No one knew about her. Whitney had kept her for himself. He'd be pulling out his hair, furious that he lost her.

"She's got venom in her. Could that poison Ezekiel?" Mordichai asked anxiously.

"It's more likely in her saliva," Draden answered absently. "Not her blood."

Talking about her like she wasn't there. Like she couldn't understand what was being said. Worse, she wasn't human and didn't matter in the least. Clearly her feelings didn't matter. She wasn't anything to them but a blood donor for their friend. They treated her with the same disdain Whitney did.

She detested giving blood. She hated the needle in her arm. She hated the way it hooked two people together. She was always dizzy and nauseous afterward. Draden didn't hesitate, hitting her vein with the boat skipping over the water and in the darkness.

A gift he had, no doubt. Night vision, probably. Or maybe he saw through skin to veins. It didn't matter. She was back in the laboratory, the sweaty techs leaning over her, sticking needles in her. They were careful of her teeth, much more careful than Draden or Mordichai, both men leaning over her. She had only to turn her head either way and sink her teeth into them. They should be afraid. There was no way they'd forgotten. They were just discussing her ability to kill.

She glanced at Gino. He hadn't forgotten. Rubin drove the boat at top speed, slowing only when they hit shallower waters. Mordichai and Draden worked on Ezekiel, paying no attention to her or anything else. Gino was the man who was the most lethal right then. The most dangerous to her. He never took his eyes from her. If she made a move to bite any of them, he would kill her. She had no doubt.

She was too tired to bite anyone. Exhausted. She wanted to think accepting defeat for the moment was all about physical exhaustion, but really, she couldn't get over the hurt of Ezekiel's betrayal. She wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. She was good at camouflage, but disappearing on the small boat with a needle stuck in her arm hooking her to Ezekiel was asking too much of even her.

"We don't want to hurt you," Gino said.

That was the last thing she expected from him. He was quiet. Watchful. A man standing apart. He kept himself from feeling anything for her deliberately--so he could kill her if it became necessary. He was telling the truth. He didn't want to hurt her. Of course they didn't. Whitney wasn't going to barter or give favors for a dead body. She knew Whitney so well now. He could make the decision to kill her. He liked having that power. He certainly wouldn't like anyone taking that decision from him.

She lay back in the boat, uncaring of the smell and dampness of it. Her skin wanted to absorb every bit of water, no droplet was too small. She stared up at the night sky. It was dark. No stars. Clouds were heavy and threatening. She hoped they'd be so heavy they'd burst and pour down on them. She needed the comfort of the rain on her skin.

Her lashes glided down. The fierce hurt that felt as if it had shattered her receded just enough to be bearable. She let the sound of t

he boat's engine and the slap of the bottom of it hitting the surface lull her into a state of drifting. She thought about Ezekiel in the boat, a lazy day of taking the triplets down a bayou. She'd been in the water, and it wasn't the cleanest. It was still and dark, but she didn't care because she was moving along with the boat.

She'd attached herself to the side and floated as he told wild tales of adventure to the little girls. She loved his imagination. She especially loved that the girls were always included as characters in his story. They were the heroines and they always prevailed against all odds. The sound of the girls' laughter and the deep affection in Ezekiel's voice when he talked to them had been what made her fall so hard for him.

Right then, her body tied to his, she could acknowledge that she had been a bigger idiot than she'd ever want to admit to anyone. She couldn't see other men. There was only Ezekiel. He was extraordinary. Every time he took the children out, he made it fun for them. He was teaching them about the ever-changing waterways and the landmarks. He taught them about tolerance and caring through his stories. His lessons were practical ones--who could name the birds and plants the fastest. How many? Who could spot the animals on land or the alligator in the water.

Life for Ezekiel's children would be an adventure. He would teach them survival skills, but the lessons would be filled with fun and laughter. She'd only known discipline. Rigorous training. She watched the way he touched the children, little caressing strokes down their hair. Hugs. A kiss on their forehead or top of their head.

Once, one of the girls had gotten angry and bitten her sister. She'd been horrified the moment the deed was done and had backed away, her expression so terrified Bellisia had almost broken cover to go to her and comfort her. It had been Ezekiel who had lifted the child in his arms, cradled her close and murmured soft, gentle words to her while the others took the triplet with the teeth marks on her arm quickly inside.

Bellisia had seen those looks the adults had exchanged. She knew immediately those little girls had a venomous bite, just as she had. Her venom was easily controlled. She didn't think the triplets could do the same with theirs.

Ezekiel had been so calm and reassuring. No one had yelled at the child. No one had hit her, or made her feel worse than she already felt. Clearly she was intelligent and knew her sister was in danger from that momentary loss of control of her temper. She'd probably never make that mistake again.

Her arm burned, bringing her out of her semi-drifting state. They were heading toward the Fontenot compound, and it was a distance from Donny's island and the marsh where Ezekiel had been taken. They must have called Stennis to call off the search for Ezekiel, yet they were bringing him home rather than to the military barracks or the hospital she knew Stennis had available.

Draden removed the needle from her arm, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. "You'll feel dizzy. Don't try to sit up too soon." He held a water bottle to her lips. "Drink. You need it."

Her arms hurt from being forced behind her back for so long. She was feeling needles and pins and knew her limbs were close to going completely numb. She felt very sick and was afraid she might throw up in front of them. She took the drink because her body cried out for water, but she didn't look at him. His hands were too gentle. His voice too solicitous. She wanted nothing from any of them, especially false concern.

She preferred Gino to the others. At least he didn't pretend to be anything but what he was--a cold killing machine.

"More?" Draden offered.

She could have downed the entire bottle, but she shook her head, not liking him so close to her, afraid she'd give in to the one moment of loss of control as that little girl with the dark, shining hair had. Her stomach lurched. Her arms were completely numb now, a dead, heavy weight that made her feel even sicker.

She tried to move fast, to get to the side of the boat. Gino caught her shoulder in a hard grip and she vomited on his shoes. She might have actually enjoyed the irony of it, but once she started, she couldn't stop, her stomach heaving over and over, cramping and protesting. She knew from experience it was a reaction to the needle. She hated them that much. Giving blood always made her sick. Always.

Whitney hated that. He thought it a defect. She wasn't perfect because she puked every time he forced her to donate blood. The more she'd gotten sick, the more he'd taken her blood until it had become a vicious circle.

Mordichai bunched her hair in his fist to keep it from pooling in the mostly bile on Gino's shoes and in the bottom of the boat. "Draden, what's wrong?"

"I'm not certain. I've got antinausea meds in the bag. I'll give her a shot and see if that helps."

She shook her head violently, unable to talk through the gagging. She hated that weakness in front of them. It made her feel more vulnerable than ever. She even hated the fact that she'd thrown up on tough man's shoes. If the earth opened up and swallowed her, she'd be all right with that. But she was close to the edge of the boat. Very close.

Tough man Gino had let go of her shoulder. She clearly wasn't faking her reaction, so none of them considered that she might leap over the edge of the boat into the water while she was vomiting so violently.

"The medicine will help settle your stomach," Draden said, moving close to her with a needle in his hand.

That fine metal entering her skin, slipping in between her cells. Each time it bit into the set of muscles running beneath her skin, she felt an exquisite pain that ran through every cell and every nerve she had. It was as if that needle connected the cells and nerves in some way, bringing everything in her body to fiery life, a pain so deep and ugly she could barely breathe through it.

How did one explain that to others? No one else seemed to have the same problem. The site of the needle entrance always swelled, but worse, deep inside, she could feel the swelling there as well, beneath the skin in those muscles that allowed her to change the texture of her skin. To camouflage herself. She moved her body away from the needle and a couple of inches closer to the side of the boat, not even having to feign her fears.

"Is it the needle?" Draden asked.

She nodded her head vigorously. She'd endured the fire spreading to every nerve while giving Ezekiel blood by putting herself in a state of near hypnosis.

"It causes this severe of a reaction every time?"

She shook her head. Not every time. Just most of the time. The gagging was getting worse. Her stomach cramped horribly. She couldn't use her hands to press against the horrible churning. She shifted uncomfortably, gaining another two inches. She didn't make the mistake of glancing toward the water. She kept her head down, trying to take in air between each session of what now was the dry heaves.

The boat slowed. They were close to the pier. She had been close to the Fontenot compound dozens of times. Right there in the water watching all of them and they never knew--or suspected. She exploded into action, coming up right in between all three men, leaping to cover the few inches left to go overboard. Her scalp screamed in pain. A cry escaped as she went backward, falling hard without the use of her hands. Mordichai still had her by her hair. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she kept fighting.

She rolled and kicked hard, knowing this was her last real chance to escape. They would take her somewhere away from the water. They'd lock her in a cell and she'd be at their mercy, waiting for Whitney to show. She had no hands to use against them, but she still fought viciously, thrashing, using her head as a weapon, her feet and even her shoulders.

Mordichai never once let go of her hair. If anything, he tightened his hold. She felt like her scalp might detach at any time. Gino caught one leg and pinned it and then waited patiently, timing her kick at him so he could get a hold of her other leg.

Ezekiel crawled to her. "Settle, baby. Just settle." His voice was a soft croon. "No one wants to hurt you. Just be still. Be calm."

Could she hate him? She wanted to hate him. He deserved to be hated. He used that voice, the beautiful one, the one he talked to the triplets

with. All the while his hand massaged her scalp, ignoring the fact that his brother still held her immobile that way.

"Come on, sweetheart, just relax. Stop fighting them. I'm right here with you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

The boat docked. On some level she was aware that Gino had tied her legs to her hands, leaving her like a roped calf, but that didn't stop her from thrashing around like a crazy person. She couldn't stop. Stopping meant admitting defeat, and she refused to believe she was caught again. That she'd made it so easy for Whitney to reacquire her. She'd always thought once she was out, she'd be able to elude him. It just took staying near water. Staying close to an escape route.

It was right there. Scant inches from her. The river. The water. Her haven. Why she didn't bite Ezekiel she would never know, but it honestly never occurred to her. In the end, he pillowed her head in his lap, stroking caresses over her hair and down her face, following the line of cheekbones and jaw with a gentle finger, just as he'd done with the little triplet who had bitten her sister in anger.

"That's it, sweetheart, just relax. I've got you. I swear to you. I give you my word, nothing bad is going to happen to you. Just be calm for me."

She had to face the fact that there was no getting into the water. No escape. These men were too fast and there were too many of them. She forced her body under control. Her face was wet and she hoped it wasn't with tears, she hoped the rain had started, but she couldn't tell, she couldn't be bothered to look up at the sky. She kept her face turned away from Ezekiel and her eyes closed tight even as she drew in great gulps of air and managed to stop her body from fighting them.

"I'm sorry, Zeke," Mordichai whispered as if she might have gone to sleep. "I wasn't trying to hurt her."

Ezekiel didn't reply. He just wrapped his arms around her. Tight. For some odd reason that comforted her, the tight cocoon of his arms. She knew how the triplets felt, safe and secure. She also knew it was an illusion. She wasn't safe with him or anyone else. There would always be a bounty on her head. Whitney was a billionaire, one of the wealthiest men in the world. More, he had powerful friends.