Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

“High-tech weapons,” Diego mused. “And you were privy to top secret weapons but had never seen these before.”

“Whitney always had the latest in weapons. He had an entire department dedicated to thinking up weapons. So yes, I’ve seen a lot of new designs, but nothing like what they have. I speak several languages. These men all spoke English, but they also had a code they were using that was only theirs.” She frowned. “Unique. Only to them, I’d guess.”

She watched as Diego and Rubin looked at each other for a long moment. Diego didn’t look happy. Rubin’s expression gave nothing away.

“You’re very good in the woods to be able to mislead a team like that,” Rubin said.

She shrugged, wary all over again. “Whitney wanted each of us to be able to handle ourselves in any environment.” That had to be common knowledge, especially if it was true that some of the girls that had broken free from Whitney had actually married Ghost-Walkers from the teams. “We trained for all situations.”

She was particularly skilled in the mountains and woods. She had an affinity with animals and she was never lost or turned around. She could be absolutely still for as long as she had to be and blend in with whatever terrain she was in. She was small enough to use animal trails to navigate unseen, leaving no trail.

“You sound like an asset to me,” Diego observed. “Stay for a while and help me protect my fancy-ass-doctor brother while he sees all his patients.” He deftly shoved food onto three plates. Although he didn’t look at Jonquille, there was one note in his voice that implied he might really need the help to protect his brother should there be trouble.

What are you doing? Rubin demanded.

You want her to stay, don’t you? You’re not going to get her to do that with your serious lack of charm. She’s ready to run.

Why would she want to run? I don’t get this. She should want to stay if she’s paired with me.

Seriously, Rubin? Diego sighed in exasperation. He nearly slammed the dishes onto the table, glaring at his brother. You did everything but pull out a microscope. You may as well have been Whitney. I have to be the charming brother now.

You try to charm her and I’m going to shoot you. Rubin held out his hand to Jonquille. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, her gaze speculative. She was intelligent and quick.

“Pay no attention to Diego. If those men show up, looking to acquire you, I’m perfectly capable of helping to keep them off you.”

You’ve got her thinking something might be wrong with me, Diego, that I can’t defend myself.

Now you’re a mystery. Women like mysteries. Diego groaned deliberately. “He’s not civilized. He spends most of his life tramping around in the swamp, avoiding everyone so he doesn’t have to speak to them.”

Jonquille flashed a tentative smile. “I’m not very civilized either. I spend most of my time hiking in the woods, looking for plants to sketch.”

She took Rubin’s hand and allowed him to pull her out of the rocking chair. The moment her hand was in his, he realized maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to touch her skin. He expected her hands to feel rough from being outside so much, but instead, her skin, next to his, felt soft. Up close, her subtle fragrance of coral honeysuckle and mountain daffodils surrounded him, filling his lungs until he felt as if he were drowning in her.

She looked up at him through a veil of thick lashes. Her lashes were long but so light-colored they appeared silver, with the tips almost bluish. The silver circles surrounding the deep blue of her eyes had thickened, giving her eyes a uniquely rare and extraordinarily beautiful appearance.

Rubin couldn’t tell whether or not her taking his hand meant she was willing to stay or that she was just hungry. He pulled out the chair for her, reluctant to give up her hand, but knowing if he made excuses to hold it, he’d look strange.

She isn’t reacting to me the way I am to her. He was disappointed. Maybe we really aren’t paired, Diego, and I’m just very attracted to her.

Diego heaved a sigh and Rubin shot him a quick, quelling look. Diego was a good cook. They both were. They’d had to be in order to survive.

“You have skills,” Jonquille observed. “I haven’t had real food in a while.”

Rubin noticed she ate slowly and very sparingly. They’d brought beef with them. They usually hunted once they were on the land, but first they’d deplete the supplies they’d brought. It was clear Jonquille really did have survival skills. She knew the correct way to eat after going light for a while. Her gaze flicked to Rubin’s face a few times, but she didn’t ask questions.