Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

“I don’t know. I’m precise and fast because I work at it. I don’t know if there are any other GhostWalkers working on the same things.”

His voice was always so matter-of-fact. So calm. She watched the storm as it drifted away, leaving her feeling a little drained after the fifteen minutes of nail-biting fright. Rubin, however, looked as cool as ever.

“You do know that you saved Chief Petty Officer Harris Ledes’s life, Jonquille. You operated on him with Wyatt assisting you, and you saved that man’s life.”

There was both admiration and respect in Rubin’s voice, and she couldn’t help feeling some pride in herself. It had been a long and exhausting job. She’d had a blueprint to work off of. His body hadn’t presented the exact same problem as those in Sean’s unit, but she knew what she was doing and at least was familiar with what she had to do. Wyatt was shocked and a little horrified by the mixture of parts that didn’t fit. Still, he’d stuck with her and in the end, he knew so much about anatomy he’d been more of a help than the medical books she’d memorized.

“I was lucky I’d been able to work on the two in Sean’s crew.”

“And you saved the other one, Sergeant Major Brick Zion. You took care of the others with the healers and then helped me. You certainly shouldered more than your fair share of work, Jonquille. I’d say your gift is quite strong.”

She gave him a small smile. She loved healing. It felt like such an accomplishment. As if she was actually making a contribution instead of reading about herbs or plants that could aid others. Sometimes her hands used to burn when she was around people and she hadn’t been able to do anything. Now she could. Wyatt had helped her so much. Everyone had. Draden. Ezekiel. Each person who reached out to help one of the sick men that she worked on, or that they worked on with her, taught her something new. They were generous about imparting knowledge. That was the other thing: Not only did she have a family, she felt a part of something. Rubin had given her the GhostWalkers.

“Perhaps we can say it’s getting there. I love that it is, Rubin. I love that I have all of this. The house. Diego. The GhostWalkers. My ability to help others through healing. What really matters to me is you. Having you.”

She went to him because she didn’t want him to get up and she knew that he would. Rubin was always the gentleman—unless he was the ruthless predator. She stood between his thighs and framed his face with her hands, looking into his dark eyes. Her heart turned over. This man.

“Kiss me, Lightning Bug,” he murmured. “Right now. Kiss me. Sit on my lap and kiss me.”

His hands urged her to straddle him. It was easy enough. She was small, and her legs fit under the wooden arms of the rocking chair. She slid her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his. She’d give him anything. Kissing was like lighting the world on fire. An explosion. Their lips came together, soft at first, just a few touches, brushing gently to set off the butterflies, and then she opened her mouth to his. The electrical charges that swirled in her body, growing hotter and more aggressive, dragged at the vast amounts of power produced in him so they came together in a fiery collision.

Sparks rained down like fire all around them. Red and orange. Gold and white. The fireflies zipped like magical beings around both of them, lighting the darkening sky. But it was the fire spreading through her body, white hot and flowing like lava through her veins, that was all she could concentrate on.

Rubin’s arms pulled her into him, tightened around her, strong, the way he was, protective, just like him, his mouth devouring her, taking over, feeding the lightning even more fuel, more energy, so they both went up in flames. The porch glowed with red and orange, while gold and white wound around them in wild electrical currents.

“Oh, for the love of St. Peter. Knock it off you two before you burn down the house. Seriously, Rubin, if you don’t act in the least responsibly, I’m dumping both your asses in the river. Both of you.”

Jonquille couldn’t help it, she started giggling. She’d never giggled in her life. Rubin fished around for a gun. Or a knife. Any weapon at all.

“Do you not see that I’m busy?”

“I can see that you’re disturbing the wildlife and the natural order of things. You want to fool around with your woman, take her in the house so we don’t have some kind of nuclear explosion and I have to spend the next twelve months doing paperwork and thinking up lies to cover your asses. I like this house and mine, by the way, which would probably blow up as well if you two kept this up, so just don’t.”