Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

“You any good with a gun?” Diego asked.

“Whitney trained all of us as soldiers from the time we were very young. I’m very good with a gun. Just about any weapon.” She shrugged easily.

“How good?” Diego persisted.

“I don’t miss what I’m aiming at,” Jonquille stated matter-of-factly.

Rubin believed her. He liked that she was confident. That she was cool sitting at the table with the two of them. She’d been in their cabin. She knew they’d grown up there. She had to know they didn’t miss either.

“I feel compelled to point out to you, if that team of mercenaries is hunting me because I was at the conference on harnessing lightning too many times, Rubin, you speak at the conferences. Not only do you speak, but you’re practically revered. If I decided this was a perfect place to look for you, wouldn’t they think so as well? I would think your knowledge would be much more valuable to them than someone like me. What do I have to contribute? They don’t even know.”

“What do they know about you?” Diego asked. “Why would they suddenly choose to follow you? Not only follow you, but keep after you?”

She was silent for so long Rubin realized she wasn’t going to answer. He sent her a small smile. She had learned to use silence as a weapon, just as they had.

“First it was the electricity, the buildup around you, that brought you to their attention, wasn’t it?” He guessed. “They couldn’t help but feel it.”

Her gaze jumped to his face. She nodded and pushed potatoes around on her plate. “There’s no way to control it when so many people are together. I try to stay out of the way, off by myself, but if the crowd gets too excited, or especially if the debate starts raging, then if I don’t leave fast enough, the electromagnetic field can be alarming very quickly. It’s hard to tear myself away when the material is so fascinating.”

“The changes in your body would happen subtly at first, right? The static electricity. The power would be difficult to contain.” Rubin forced himself to keep his voice very mellow, as if he were simply stating facts. Deep inside, he felt real excitement, the kind he hadn’t felt in a long, long while. He wanted to see her like that.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Unfortunately, that’s what happened. In a dark room, my hair and skin can be a beacon. That isn’t all that can happen. When the electrical current is moving through me, sometimes the charges can be seen circling my skin or hair as well. It can look something like the little lightning bugs dancing around in the grass here at sunset. I hide it behind clothing, but when it’s becoming too strong, it can be difficult.”

She didn’t look at either of them but took a small bite of the potatoes she’d been pushing around and chewed as if it were her life’s work.

“I imagine there could be sound,” Rubin said.

She nodded. “If the buildup is bad enough. I usually get out before it’s that bad.”

“Someone from this team saw this phenomenon?” Diego asked.

“Maybe. Probably.” She shrugged. “They could have as I was slipping out the door.”

“But that wasn’t the worst of it, was it?” Rubin asked quietly. He didn’t look at her. He concentrated on eating. He wanted to see her face. Instead, he chose to feel her. She was first-generation Ghost-Walker. It was difficult for her to hide her emotions when they were heightened. She gave off far too much energy to be able to be successful if she wanted to escape his scrutiny.

3

Diego, the food was absolutely delicious, but I’m not used to eating very much, nor am I used to spending time in the company of others. I’ll just step outside for a few minutes. If you’ll excuse me.” Jonquille sent both of them a vague smile and was on her feet, pushing back her chair.

You pushed her too hard, Rubin.

I think I got that. She’s going to run.

She won’t go without her things. They’re here inside, Diego pointed out as he watched her go out the door.

She doesn’t have enough weapons or clothes in here. No rifle. If she’s that good of a shot, she’s got a rifle. Where the hell is it? Rubin asked. She’s got a stash somewhere else.

Rubin pushed back his own chair. “Leave the dishes for me. I’ll go do damage control.”

“Don’t let her shove a knife in your gut,” Diego advised. “Although you might deserve it if you keep interrogating her.”

Rubin followed Jonquille out into the gathering darkness. She stood at the edge of the tree line, nearly blending into the woods. Had he not had superior night vision, he doubted he would have seen her. As he stepped outside, she turned her head to look his way and he caught the sheen of silver in her eyes. His heart contracted. He hoped she wasn’t close to tears, because if she was, he’d done that. She looked on the verge of flight, a wild thing, unable to make up her mind whether to stay or flee into the woods, where she could escape him. He continued walking right to her, using the same easy, steady, nonthreatening pace.