Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

Jonquille glanced into the woods. The clouds had turned a darker shade of gray at the bottom, leaving their fluffier tops lighter so they appeared almost as if they had an ombré effect. As the clouds floated across the sky, driven by the slight breeze, they blocked the light of the stars and moon completely, turning the woods and stream into an ominous, dark, shadowy underworld. She didn’t flinch away from it or appear to be spooked by the sudden change.

Rubin studied her face as she contemplated how to answer him. She never seemed to feel she had to answer right away. She wasn’t pushed into anything. She turned things over in her mind before she decided what to trust him with.

Around them, the trees began to moan as the wind picked up. Branches rubbed together to make the mournful sound. The frogs and katydids changed their tunes, singing a chorus to match the desolate notes the trees produced.

Get her to go inside, where it’s warmer, Rubin.

She doesn’t feel as threatened out here, even knowing you’re holding a sniper’s rifle on her. I’m trying to get her to admit she’s been paired with me. She isn’t a threat. Go inside and stay warm. We’ll be in as soon as we can.

That’s not going to happen in this lifetime.

Rubin sighed. He’d known that was going to be Diego’s answer. Most of the time he didn’t bother to answer at all.

“There’s no doubt that he paired us, Rubin. I feel an almost overwhelming attraction to you, and that doesn’t come easily to me. I’m certain we have many of the same psychic traits. In any case, those I don’t have, you would complement, and vice versa. That seems to be how it works. I’ve never actually seen a couple in person, but I’ve seen them when they’ve been online and Whitney managed to get a recording when they were unaware.”

He flashed her a grin. “At least you’re willing to admit you’re attracted to me.”

“I think that was pretty clear when I didn’t shoot you for watching me shower.”

“You didn’t shoot me because my brother had you dead to rights, just like he does now.”

She gave him her sassy smile. “There is that, although I did consider whether or not I could hit the floor before he got the shot off. I didn’t want to risk it. He has a bit of a reputation. And don’t let the admission of my finding you attractive go to your head or make you think Whitney did that to me. Any woman with eyes would find you attractive.”

He remained silent while she frowned, thinking over what she’d said. She laughed, those little bells skipping over the water in the sound he’d heard before when she realized what she’d said. He did like the sound of her laughter.

Her eyebrows drew together and for a moment she looked as if she was pouting. “That didn’t come out right.”

He laughed, genuine laughter, something he couldn’t remember doing in a long time. “I thought it came out exactly right.”

“You would. To answer your question, yes, I believe in his great narcissistic, godlike way, Whitney decided we were a perfect match.”

“You must be very good at healing, then, because I am,” Rubin confessed. “Not just because I’m a doctor.” He waited several heartbeats. “I didn’t have the necessary skills to heal when I was a kid. I was in survival mode, trying to put food on the table. Trying to keep the family alive.” He gestured in the general direction of the family graveyard. “You can see, I wasn’t good at it.”

“Rubin.” His name came out a gentle reprimand. “Why do you come back if it hurts so much?”

“To check in with my family even though they’re gone,” he answered without hesitation. “To make sure those living in the mountains have some medical attention when they otherwise wouldn’t. And because this place calls to me. A part of me will always call it home, no matter where I settle.”

She gave him a smile that made his heart contract. “You’re a good man, Rubin. If Whitney had to pick a man for me, I’m grateful it was you.”

Rubin studied her face. She was actually quite good at keeping that little pixie face from giving too much away.

“He likes flowers. Whitney. He really likes flowers. He grows them. He would know that Jonquille spelled without the extra ‘L’ and ‘E’ added is ‘daffodil’ or ‘Easter lily’ here in the Appalachian Mountains, where you were born. Of course, he had no way of knowing that when he named me … I don’t think. Who knows what his talent is like?”

“Let’s go back inside, Jonquille. It turns cold fast. You managed to grab your boots but you’re not really dressed very warm.”

She slid off the boulder and gave a last look at the stream. “This is a magical place. I know the winters are harsh and it can be a hard life, but I would have tried to stay here if I didn’t have those men following me.”