Lethal Game (GhostWalkers 16)

“I can’t believe this happened to them. Poor Anna and Bryon. I know Bryon didn’t kill her. I just wish I could have said the right thing to convince them that Bryon would never kill Anna.”

Malichai hugged Marie to him, trying to comfort her. “I don’t think either of the detectives believed he killed his wife and then himself. I don’t think they believed it before they even came here. Maybe the crime scene appeared too staged. I don’t know. Watching them closely, I could see that neither thought that Bryon killed Anna. You just confirmed that belief.”

“Thank heaven,” Marie said. “Those poor people deserve better than having their families believe something that horrible. Can you imagine how Bryon’s parents would feel, having their child accused of something like that? And Anna’s parents believing it? No, the detectives need to figure this out fast.”

“They will, Marie,” Amaryllis said. “They seem very confident.”

Malichai waited again while Amaryllis walked with Marie to her room, all the while murmuring reassurances. He needed a few reassurances himself, specifically that his woman wasn’t going to take off on him. She was that little bit too nervous. He’d looked at her a few times and she’d refused to meet his eyes.

They needed to talk, and he needed to bring in a couple of his teammates in order to ensure he didn’t lose his woman. She wasn’t going to like it when he admitted who and what he was—or that he knew she was one of Whitney’s orphans.6Amaryllis caught Marie in a hug before she closed her door, holding on to her tightly. She closed her eyes, inhaling her scent, wanting to imprint every detail of her onto her brain. She wished she dared go in to Jacy and do the same, but Marie would get suspicious. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she forced them away. Marie hugged her back, just as hard.

“I love you,” Amaryllis whispered. It was the first time in her life she’d ever said the words, ever meant them. Marie was mother, sister and friend all rolled into one. Leaving her was the hardest thing she’d ever do in her life.

Marie had taught her about love. About life. About families. She’d taught her compassion and how to be a better person. She was the one who made her think about the girls she’d escaped with and whether or not they ever made it out—whether the soldiers had chased after them, giving Amaryllis time to get away. She’d lain in bed for months wondering if they’d been captured, wondering what kind of person she was that she hadn’t gone back to check. All because of Marie. Now it was too late, they were long gone.

Only two of the girls had left with her in the end. The others had never realized just what Whitney was doing to them or what he intended. Amaryllis feared for them. Whitney admired and sought intelligence. Those remaining didn’t think logically, nor did they realize the danger they were in. The two girls who escaped were more like Amaryllis. Silver and Coral were both quick on making decisions and had been trained as assassins, as she had been. They were loners as well but had formed some sort of loose friendship that had never included her. Part of that had been her fault. She’d preferred solitude. Peace. A good book.

“I love you too,” Marie whispered, hugging her hard. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through this last year without you.”

That made Amaryllis feel guilty, not good. She had to leave. She’d never gotten her paperwork done. To get the necessary forgeries, she needed money, and instead of saving her paychecks, she’d turned the money back into the bed-and-breakfast, helping to redecorate and open each new room so they could take in more guests. They still had other rooms they could renovate. They just needed the money. Marie’s money went to Jacy’s medical care.

“You would have found a way,” Amaryllis whispered. “You can move mountains, Marie. Without you, I would have drowned.”

Marie pulled back, frowning, her eyes moving over Amaryllis’s face. She clutched her arms even tighter. “You aren’t planning . . .”

Amaryllis couldn’t bear for her to say the words aloud. She hugged her again and then turned away, back toward the hall. To her consternation, Malichai was still there. He stood as still as a statue, blending into the shadows. He had a way of disappearing, making himself so still and quiet it was as if no one could see or hear him. His energy was so low she couldn’t detect him.

She’d been taken from an orphanage as an infant by Dr. Peter Whitney, a genius billionaire. He had laboratories set up all over the United States and ultimately in other countries as well. She’d been raised from the time she could barely walk to fight. There were hundreds of visits to the hospital. Thousands of vials of blood taken. Her life had been one of strict discipline and learning. School and warfare. And then came the rumor of the breeding program. Amaryllis was not okay with that, especially once she caught Owen Starks’s eye. He was the worst as far as she was concerned, and she decided to get out. Sometimes, she just knew—like now. No matter how much she wanted to stay, she had to get out of there before it was too late.