Toxic Game (GhostWalkers 15)

Stay still, sweetheart. I’ve let Joe know where we both are, and he’s informed the Kopassus commander, but that doesn’t mean one of them might not get trigger-happy. We’ll let them take their prisoners and all dead bodies and go.

She couldn’t help but let him feel the faint laughter she couldn’t hold back. Life with you is never dull, is it?

I like to give you the occasional adrenaline rush.

Tone it down a little. I’m tired and hungry. And this roof is making me itch.

You little complainer. You were the one staring out the window getting the uneasy feeling. I was fixating on your tits. You have some gorgeous ones, by the way.

Now you say that. Had you said it then, we wouldn’t be in this mess. You could have had your wicked way with me, but now I’ve come to my senses and am determined to continue down the path of the good-girl assassin.

She kept her gaze fixed on the scene playing out below her. The Kopassus were tying their prisoners’ hands behind their backs and not being very gentle about it. She didn’t blame them. The soldiers had to have seen the dead in the village of Lupa Suku as well as their wounded and fallen comrades. The MSS had murdered the World Health Organization’s doctors to bait a trap. Who did that? The WHO were men and women who had dropped everything and come at a call for help from the Indonesian government. The soldiers had every right to be angry with the prisoners. She didn’t feel in the least sorry for them, no matter what was in store for them.

Did you warn Joe to tell them to burn the bodies? I used a blowgun.

Of course. They know not to take chances. The MSS prisoners will be quarantined and their blood tested.

She was suddenly very tired. Exhausted. That alarmed her. She knew fatigue was one of the symptoms of the onset of the virus. She forced herself to examine her body for any other signs. Her muscles ached. Everywhere. Arms. Legs. Shoulders. Especially her neck.

She tried to slow her pounding heart. For a moment she debated telling him. If she said it, the probability of the virus spreading through her body became real. She knew she was going to have to. He had always been so honest with her and she’d tried to dismiss it, to find other explanations for his symptoms. How had he been so matter-of-fact?

She closed her eyes and drew in air, trying to remain calm when she wanted to panic. Strangely, her body actually prepared for flight. It wanted to run, to stay ahead of the certain death sentence. She forced herself to think, to get past the chaos in her mind. Blood thundered in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the cicadas, something nearly impossible in the Sumatra forest.

She understood why Draden hadn’t wanted to have sex with her. She felt—disgusting. For the first time, it was real to her that she was infected, and the virus would liquefy her organs and eventually kill her.

Shylah?

The moment she heard his whisper, that soft, intimate sound, she pulled away from him. Not pulled. Jerked. She knew this reaction wasn’t about dying. It was solely about the way she was going to die. She couldn’t face him until she got herself under control. The moment the soldiers faded away, she was going to go for a long walk and try to get some of the adrenaline to leave her body, so her fight-or-flight reflex wasn’t so strong. She just couldn’t face Draden, not until she was every bit as calm and accepting about the virus as he was.

12

Draden leapt from the trees the moment the Kopassus cleared out. As a rule, he would have waited for a few minutes, even a half hour, to ensure they were really gone before he moved. This time he took Joe at his word, that everyone was in helicopters and the soldiers were back, circling the ranger cabin so they were safe from intruders.

Something was wrong with Shylah. She’d withdrawn from him, and she’d never done that before. Not once. She’d been open and honest almost since the moment they met. It was that trait that drew him to her. He knew something had to be wrong and she was falling back on her normal way of dealing with things—alone. He knew because he was that way.

Baby, talk to me. He tried coaxing, using their intimate connection.

There was something beautiful about being in each other’s mind. No matter how alone, the moment the other poured in, there was warmth and happiness. She filled all those empty places in him where he struggled with human connections. He hoped he did the same for her. She’d always responded. Always.

She wasn’t hurt. He would have known. He raced across the small open space to the house and up the porch. She’d come down off the roof, he’d seen her slide to the side of the building in order to climb down the side. She wasn’t inside. He swore, biting profanities out between his teeth. He should have been watching her instead of the soldiers.

Not kidding around with you, woman. I need to know you’re safe. Talk to me.

There was a small silence. He counted every one of his heartbeats. Waiting. He’d never had this experience before. This was a first. He’d never cared about someone this way and her silence—leaving him not knowing what was wrong—nearly drove him insane.

Damn it, Shylah. I’m coming after you. You have to know I am.

He began casting around for her tracks. She’d sprinted for the forest. It was still light and with the storm mostly gone, there was only drizzling rain. The sky was overcast. The air muggy. His shirt and jeans were plastered to his body.

He was back in the forest, looking for signs of her going up into the trees. It was her favorite mode of travel. There were none that he could see. He found a partial print along a narrow animal path. A few feet farther in, he saw a twisted leaf on a large fern.

The first stirring in his mind was tentative, as if she could make the connection but was being extremely careful not to give too much of herself away.

I just need a little time to myself. I’m not used to sharing so much of myself with anyone.

That was total bullshit and he knew it. She wasn’t a bullshitter either. I’m not accepting that excuse. Give me something I can get behind.

There was silence. From her lengthened tracks, he could see she had begun running. Where are you going? Now his heart was in his throat and he was running too. He was fast. He ran every night. Sometimes, for most of the night. He could catch her, but he didn’t know if he could catch her in time.

Damn it, Shylah. The soldiers will shoot you before they’ll let you through their line. They’re there not only to keep others away, but to keep us isolated. If you violate their perimeter, they will shoot you. You answer me.

I’m well aware of them. I don’t need you to tell me that. I’m just running, Draden. You of all people should understand.

Was that what she was doing? Just running? Then why would she abruptly leave him? Stop him from connecting with her? It wasn’t his imagination. She had withdrawn. He was catching up to her because she wasn’t running fast, she was jogging to cover distance and clearly didn’t want to tire herself out.

I’m coming up on you. You don’t want to talk, we won’t talk, but I’m running with you.

She didn’t respond, but he got the impression of tears and that cut like a knife. She didn’t want his company. That was just too damned bad.

Then she was there, in front of him, her long legs sure on the narrow path. From behind her, he could see her perfect rhythm. Her clothes, like his, were soaked. As he moved up for a moment to check her features, he could see the white tee she’d pulled on earlier was his. Now it was soaked and see-through. Completely. It might as well have been nonexistent. She wasn’t wearing a bra and both hands pressed her breasts tightly to keep them from bouncing.

Tears tracked down her face and she didn’t try to hide them. She didn’t even look at him, just stared straight ahead as she doggedly put one foot in front of the other. He swore to himself he would keep his mouth shut. He wouldn’t say one word. She was entitled to her privacy. After about two minutes he was all but grinding his teeth. Three more minutes and he was exploding.

He caught her elbow and pulled her to a halt. “You’re

killing me. Killing me. Damn it, Shylah, whatever this is, we’re in it together.”

She wouldn’t even look at him, instead, she stared at the ground, the tears refusing to stop. Desperate, he did the only thing he could think of. He caught her hair in his fist, pulled her head back and his mouth took hers. He didn’t expect a response and at first, he didn’t get one, although the chemistry between them exploded in his mouth. Her taste was on his tongue. Addictive. Fiery. So hot he needed more.

Then she leaned into him, her body melting into his, all soft, pliant. Her arms slid up his chest to circle his neck and her mouth moved beneath his. Instantly, he knew he was losing control and he wanted to. He wanted to crawl inside of her. She set him on fire. His skin, his cock and his soul. All of him. Every inch. He hadn’t known kisses could do that until he experienced kissing Shylah. He hadn’t even been into kissing that much. It had always been more for the woman, but now, he devoured her.

When he lifted his head, she pushed her forehead against his chest. He held her, his arms tight around her, trying to tell her without words that no matter what, he would be there for her.

No matter what. He glanced down at the top of her head. Sweetheart. You don’t have to look at me, but are you experiencing symptoms? Do you have a headache? What is it?

Her body was warm, but it was hot in the forest and the rain hadn’t cooled things down. If anything, they were sweaty and muggy. In the trees they’d been protected somewhat, but the wind wasn’t in the least cool and on the roof, she would have felt like she was being blasted by a furnace. They’d just run, that would heat their bodies as well.

He felt her head move. She was nodding, but she still didn’t look at him. Exhaustion. Fatigue. Whatever you want to call it. I can barely lift my arms up. It came on fast. And my body hurts, all my muscles. I’ve never felt like this before.

She’d never been sick. Shylah didn’t get viruses. His heart skipped a beat and then began pounding. She wasn’t supposed to get sick. Trap had said they were both infected, but they were fighting it off. She wasn’t supposed to get sick. He hadn’t allowed himself to think of that possibility. He tightened his arms around her as if that would save her. It didn’t matter that he knew they’d both been infected. He wasn’t prepared for her to get sick.

“All right, sweetheart. Let’s get back to the house. We were up all night and traveling back and forth, all those miles separating us from the MSS village … It’s tiring. Isn’t that what you keep saying to me?”

She nodded her head, still very close to his chest, close enough that he felt the deep breath she took. He knew the moment she got herself together. He knew Shylah Cosmos was the woman for him. In the absolute worst of circumstances, she would stand. He let her step away, but he reached for her hand.