Toxic Game (GhostWalkers 15)

She hadn’t expected the intimacy of his voice in her head. It had a smoothness to it that gave way now and then to gravel. The way he moved in her mind stole something from her. She liked that little nod of approval he’d given her as if she were his equal just because she hadn’t given into the hysteria welling up.

She didn’t object, and he didn’t slow down, his fingers never leaving her arm, so she didn’t slow either. She was worried about his injury. It had to hurt even though he was the smoothest runner she’d ever met.

I’m Shylah Cosmos. Well, Shylah is the name my sisters gave me. I dislike my real name with a passion. Peony. Who is named Peony?

Draden Freeman. I believe I know your sisters. Bellisia and Zara? Did Whitney send you here? And there’s nothing wrong with Peony.

She almost stopped jogging she was so shocked. He knew Bellisia and Zara? Are they alive? They left separately on missions and we never heard from them again. And there is something wrong with being named Peony, so never call me that.

Whitney knows they’re alive. He came after them even after he said he’d let them go.

Dr. Peter Whitney had found her in an orphanage. Zara and Bellisia had been found the same way. Whitney had chosen them because he had a talent for recognizing others with undeveloped psychic abilities. He brought the infants to one of his many secret military facilities to experiment on them. He considered them throwaways. In his quest to find the perfect supersoldier, he experimented on the girls and when he thought he’d perfected what he was looking for, he psychically and genetically enhanced the soldiers in his GhostWalker program.

Are they okay?

They were both sent to China. Bellisia and Zara thought you had been too. But yes, they’re alive and well.

They were nearing the last of the shore before the embankment began to rise. She could barely make out the rising bank. The rain had gone from light to a steady downpour, making it very difficult to see. There was no moon. Even with her enhanced vision, the rain hammered at her face, making her blink so much she couldn’t focus on what was ahead. Draden didn’t seem to have the same problem. He kept moving forward, heading straight for that last little bit of shore.

We’re going in, he warned her.

He still hadn’t let her go, and for the first time it occurred to her that he was making certain she couldn’t escape. She was even more sure when he pulled her right into the water with him.

I swim better with two arms. Shylah tested her theory.

If you’re Shylah, sister to Bellisia and Zara, you can swim with your hands tied behind your back.

That was true. She’d done it on more than one occasion. It was part of their training.

I’m not going anywhere. I’m not about to take the chance of infecting anyone else with this virus. I was here to try to track the source. Whitney is an asshole, but he definitely doesn’t want a hemorrhagic virus let loose on any country, let alone the United States.

Swim with me, we’ll sort it out on the other side. I’m not losing you in the river. Tell me if you have to go up for air.

She doubted if he could lose her. He was too omnipotent. Invincible. Even with having to do CPR on him after his injury, there was a part of her that thought it was possible he would have miraculously come back to life without her. And she wouldn’t have to go to the surface for air. She could breathe shallowly, let one tiny bit of air out at a time and last for a very long time if needed.

She used her legs, kicking strongly. She helped with her one free arm, but he essentially was a bullet in the water, speeding through like an otter to the other side. When their feet touched the bottom, they were in the mangrove forest, the roots rising all around them in the brackish water.

We have to get into the trees before they see us. Try not to make a sound.

That annoyed her. She was no amateur. She’d been observing the members of the MSS for some time without detection. You didn’t have a clue I was anywhere near you. She couldn’t keep the snippy note out of her tone.

Shylah didn’t want to think about the virus and her exposure to it or what it meant. Death. Certain death. She could deal with dying, it was the how. Death from this particular hemorrhagic virus had looked horrific.

Don’t. We’ll figure that out later. Right now we need to make the few feet into the forest. They will come after us and that’s what we want, just not right now.

She noticed he didn’t apologize for thinking she was an idiot and needed a warning when in enemy territory. Why do we want them to come after us?

Because we’re going to turn the tables on them and kill as many as possible.

She remained silent, and this time made certain he was completely out of her mind. She didn’t want to chance him reading her thoughts. She knew all the members of the MSS were to blame for what had happened to the people of Lupa Suku. Intellectually, she knew. She was fine with the GhostWalker killing the commander of the terrorist cell. She’d seen the atrocities he’d committed. She didn’t mind Draden killing the guards—after all, he had to escape. She wasn’t in the least opposed to killing—that would make her a hypocrite—but she wasn’t certain he could stop killing. The death toll was already so high.

Draden remained crouched half in and half out of the mangroves, making himself smaller by keeping his lower half in the water. Roots protruded, rising up like sentries. He was still enough that someone looking through the driving rain might think he was part of the trees rather than a human.

You didn’t kill all those guards to escape. She knew it came out somewhere between an accusation and a little bit of awe. You wanted them dead. All of them.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his incredible eyes moving over her face. Seeing her. Focusing on her. The way he looked at her made her heart begin to accelerate. Holy cow, Draden. You should be outlawed. If those guards were women, you would just have to look at them like that and they’d worship at your feet. She tried going for humor, but it was too close to the truth for her to inject laughter into her mind.

He gave her a faint grin that raised her temperature about a hundred degrees. The flash of his white teeth, that mouth, the way his face softened just for a moment to let humor escape, had butterfly wings fluttering in her stomach. Maybe other places too but she wasn’t acknowledging them. She’d lost her chance for that to ever happen. She would die with no experiences. None.

I don’t see you worshipping yet, Shylah.

She had been enhanced as a soldier, trained as one, and she was going to die as one. Draden was right, they couldn’t take the chance of infecting anyone else. Still, she really didn’t want to die that way. If they were going to wage war on the enemy and she wasn’t killed in battle, she was saving her last bullet for herself. In spite of her grim thoughts, she couldn’t help but appreciate his sense of humor.

Not yet but give it time. I’m totally susceptible to good looks. On the other hand, I don’t like bossy men, so if you want worshipping from me, you’ll have to keep your mouth closed and let me boss you.

That fantasy mouth smiled. The kind of smile that could melt the panties off a nun. Holy cow. He could completely own a woman with that smile. He clearly appreciated her sense of humor, although she meant what she said. The GhostWalker was just a little too dominant for someone like her.

Good to know. About the talking too much. I’m not known for that, but I’ll be much more careful.

She loved that he could tease her when they were in such a dire situation. It was a great distraction from the sound of voices coming toward them on the water. She could see the faint, distorted lights shining through the sheets of rain.

Go under. Stay under until I tell you otherwise. Don’t make a sound.

Shylah obediently sank beneath the brackish water. That is a prime example of what I was just saying. Your order of not making noise was unnecessary. I’m a soldier and I don’t need you telling me what to do.

Every soldier needs a commander and it looks lik

e I’m yours.

You’re a soldier. You need a commander. What makes you the boss?

I’m bigger than you are, Draden said, his voice just a little arrogant.

Shylah refrained from answering. What was the point? He was bigger.

3

It took what seemed like forever for the boat filled with the Milisi Separatis Sumatra soldiers to move down the river and go around the long curve. Shylah had no problem staying underwater, even when it was murky, and she had no idea what was in the water with her. She could see with her enhanced vision, so if anything did come at her, she would know. The roiling in her stomach wasn’t that. The knots and growing terror weren’t from anything creepy in the water, holding her breath too long or the fact the hottest and most lethal man in the world was pressing his thigh against hers. It was knowledge. Time. The clock ticking.

She couldn’t keep her mind on the soldiers making their way down the river, searching for signs of them. It was the fact that she had time to think. This gorgeous man, Draden Freeman, had somehow been infected with the hemorrhagic virus that had killed an entire village. It would kill him and eventually kill her. She had to cut herself off from every human being …

Stop thinking about it.

That voice. When it slipped into her mind, he poured in after it. Heat. Filling every space in her mind unexpectedly. She was lonely. How could she not be? But she was someone who knew she was intelligent. She had amazing skills, taught from childhood. Whitney had tried to undermine her self-worth, but Shylah knew better than to let him succeed.

She believed in herself and her dedication to her country. That was hers, not something Whitney could take from her, but self-esteem didn’t make her any less lonely. Before, growing up, she’d had her two best friends, Bellisia and Zara. Then they were gone, and she was by herself. She would die that way …

Stop.