Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers #4)(20)
Author: Christine Feehan

“I think they’d love you no matter what, but I don’t think you do.”

Briony turned away from him. “You don’t know anything about me or my life.”

“I’m inside your head. You think I can’t feel your emotions?”

She spun around again, a shocked look on her face. “You can? I can’t feel yours. You said you were an anchor. What does that mean exactly?”

“I draw emotion and energy away from you, act as the filter you don’t have. And yes, you could feel my emotions if I allowed it, and no, I can’t really feel yours unless your guard is down. Sometimes you let me in and other times you don’t. Like now. The door is nailed closed. You don’t want me to know anything about your family.”

“I don’t know you.”

He finished off the food in silence and drank the rest of the bottle of water. Pushing aside the tray, he stood up. Nearly every inch of his body was covered in wounds yet he didn’t even wince.

Briony winced for him. “I have a painkiller. It isn’t very strong, but maybe it would take the edge off.”

“I don’t need it. Try to get my pants to dry. I’ll need those when I leave.” He crossed to the bathroom, but didn’t shut the door, standing just out of sight as he tossed the towel to one side. “If I was going to harm your family, Briony, they’d be dead already.” He opened the door wider as he buttoned up the jeans. Her face had gone pale. “Was that your first dead body?”

Briony clenched her fist. He sounded so casual she wanted to throw something at him. There was nothing casual about taking a life. “No. I found my parents-murdered.” She could barely get the word out.

He drew in his breath. He was feeling her emotions now. Raw pain. A flood of sorrow mixed with guilt and fear. “That’s never going to go away, and I’m telling you that from experience. I found my mother dead. I was nine years old. I can still see every detail. All the blood. The way her face was smashed in. There was so much blood.” He shook his head. “A hell of a thing for either of us to carry around for the rest of our lives, isn’t it?”

His voice hadn’t changed at all, still mild. Low. But she heard a vibration of menace running through her head. He didn’t show emotion at all, but he felt, and the intensity was like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“I think someone killed them because of me.” She told him because he seemed to believe her when no one else took her seriously.

He stopped in the act of pulling the T-shirt over his head. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I heard them arguing with someone out in the stable with the horses. I heard my father say very distinctly they wouldn’t allow Briony to try such a thing, it was too dangerous. I heard shots. Just two shots. I ran as fast as I could, and I’m fast, but when I got there, they were both dead and whoever did it was already gone. Each had one bullet in the head, right here.” She pressed her finger between her eyes. “I never saw who did it, and the murderer had to be close, but I couldn’t find him.” She looked at him. “I couldn’t even smell him.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“I have no idea. I told my brothers, and they went through the messages and paperwork in the trailer, but couldn’t find anything. The police didn’t find their killer.” She looked at him. “How did your mother die?”

Jack pulled the shirt over his head. He’d never told anyone. Never opened that particular wound. He’d had no intention of telling her either. Damn it. There was no stitching that injury closed, and he was going to tell her, but he had no idea why. “She was beat to death. He used his fists and then a baseball bat.”

“Jack.” She wanted to put her arms around him. She felt his emotions now-black rage-ice cold. “I’m so sorry. What a terrible thing. Who would do such a thing?”

“Her husband.” He glanced around the room. “You have a hat in here? Maybe a backpack?”

Why had she thought he didn’t have emotions? The room was shaking, the walls undulating. “Jack.” She reached out to touch him.

Jack knocked her hand away, clearly a reflex action. He was strong, and she felt the impact right through her body. Their eyes met. Held. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He stepped close to her, almost protectively. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“I’m fine.” She pulled a backpack out of the tiny closet to avoid looking at him. She had to blink back tears-not because he’d hurt her, but because his pain was so raw and his rage so deep, she needed to weep for him, because he hadn’t-wouldn’t.

“Damn it. I don’t usually talk this much.”

She handed him the backpack and rummaged through the drawers for a hat.

“You actually put your clothes in the closet?”

She glanced at him, knowing he needed to change the subject. He would never be comfortable with personal revelations. “Of course. What do you do with your clothes?”

He looked around the small room. “I don’t actually stay in hotels much. I’m usually outdoors. But maybe a duffel bag.”

Briony pushed a hat into his hands. “That should do it. Let’s go.” The close confines of the room were really getting to her. Jack seemed to be everywhere. She’d never been so aware of a man.

Jack stopped her before she could open the door. “Wait. Always check. Always.” He set her to one side and stood to the other, his gun in his hand, held flat across his body. “Open it slowly, just a crack.” He crouched low, sweeping the hallway before signaling to her. “You have to think security at all times, Briony. You’re a GhostWalker whether you like it or not, and you’ve got the training.”

“I’m not going to be hunting people in the jungle,” she objected. “I perform in a circus. I fly.”

“Walk on my left side. Stay up with me. If we run into trouble, drop behind me and take off, using my body as a shield while I cover you. Stay away from my gun hand and walk in step.”

She sighed. “Do you have any more rules?”

Again that very faint trace of amusement touched his mouth and faded just as quickly. “You have no idea.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Soldier at seven o’clock. Don’t look at him, look up at me. Stay under my shoulder and put one hand on my waist. Just rest it there. Keep walking and talk to me, smile and laugh the way you would with one of your brothers.”