Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers #4)(7)
Author: Christine Feehan

Her four brothers looked startled. It was the first time she had ever interrupted the ritual. They were big men, muscular and well built with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She had wheat and platinum hair, dark, chocolate brown eyes, and was about five foot two. She looked nothing like them, and certainly didn’t have their adventurous personalities-although she wished she did. She never really sassed them, although she considered herself pushed around a bit by them. At once all their faces dropped.

Ruben crouched down beside her. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Briony. We can work it without you if you can’t make it this time. It won’t be easy, and you know the crowd isn’t going to like it, but if you can’t pull yourself together this time… ”

Seth sucked in his breath. “Yeah, I could maybe take your spot, honey. Why don’t you try to go to bed? Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“We can call for a doctor,” Tyrel offered. “Your doctor has always flown out within an hour of a call.”

Briony would have laughed if her head wasn’t splitting apart. “I’ve never missed a performance. Just give me a little alone time and I’ll be fine.”

Jebediah waved the others out of the room and sank down beside her, reaching out a hand to push back her thick mop of blond hair. “We need you, honey, I won’t lie to you, but I’ll call the doc if you think you’re going to need him. We have several performances to do, and if the rebels are really sneaking into the city, the emotions are only going to get worse.”

It was such a concession for Jebediah to admit that anything would make her condition worse. “I don’t like the doctor.” Briony rubbed her hand over her face. “He stares at me like I’m an insect under a microscope. There’s something not right about him.”

Jebediah sighed and sank back on his heels. “You’re being paranoid again.”

“Am I? Why is it the rest of you can go to any doctor you choose, but I have to have a specific doctor, one that flies halfway around the world to treat me?”

“Because you’re special and Mom and Dad promised. I keep their promises and so should you.”

“I’m all grown up.” When he didn’t respond, she let her breath out slowly. “I’m serious, Jeb, just give me some space. I can beat this.” She wasn’t certain this time. It was the worst she’d ever been, other than when she was a child, unable to cope with or understand what was happening to her. Feeling desperate, Briony closed her eyes and began to breathe slowly and evenly, looking for that calm, tranquil spot inside of herself.

She was barely aware of her oldest brother leaving, concentrating instead on putting away the emotions of the people in the city, of the soldiers and their guns and dark deeds, of the hatred and fear battering at her mind. Once she was calm enough, she dealt with the ever-present fear of high places. If there was one person in the world who shouldn’t be doing trapeze or high-wire acts, it was Briony.

“Let’s do it,” Seth called from outside the door.

Briony stood, looked in the mirror to make certain there was no blood on her face and that she could manage a high-wattage smile, and then ran out to join her brothers. The audience had swelled to immense proportions. She didn’t look at them, concentrating on the beat of the music. They used a blend of popular African and Cuban music to do their performance, a dangerous trapeze act.

Briony completed a quadruple somersault; Jebediah caught her and sent her flying out toward the taut high wire, where she was caught by Tyrel and swung up onto the wire. Seth and Ruben continued the flying act while she ran across the wire without a pole, and as Ruben flew back toward Seth, she crossed him in the air, diving to Jebediah through a ring of fire Tyrel held. It was a wild, frightening act, done with exact precision and timing, and at least two of them flying in the air at all times.

No one knew why Briony had such incredible balance or strength, but to the act, it was a huge boon, drawing thousands to their performances. It helped that her brothers were handsome and incredible athletes. No one had an act like theirs, as daring and complicated and showy. Briony thought the hip-hop beat and the drums only added to the excitement of the show. Adrenaline poured through her body as she flew through the sky, concentrating on her mark, listening for her brother’s command. He caught her and sent her spinning back through the air. She tucked and jackknifed, turning as she came out of it, to reach with her hands and connect with Tyrel.

The applause was accompanied by a roar of approval. The audience stomped their feet and called for more. Briony waved and smiled when Tyrel squeezed her arm, and she dove from the wire, arms outstretched as if she could really fly, doing a slow motion, graceful somersault, coming under Ruben. He was doing the exact same sequence over the top of her as they exchanged places. Briony and Ruben waved again to the roaring crowd and caught a rope to slide down, coming together, hand in hand, to bow. They waited for their brothers to join them, all of them taking a final bow together.

The wild music and adrenaline rush had helped to keep the crushing emotions at bay, but as she stood in the spotlight, she felt the impact like a physical blow. She stumbled, forcing her smile to remain in place as the pain crushed her head in a vise and twisted hard knots in her stomach. Thousands of people were around her, all giving off waves of emotions. Everything from elation to the deepest despair. She could feel the tension, see the men moving through the crowd with guns, occasionally shoving a hapless individual, faces grim, no caring in their eyes. Her eyesight had always been phenomenal. She had the ability to see a mouse moving on the forest floor, and she could easily see and feel the fear of the women as they gathered closer, trying not to be noticed by the soldiers.

As soon as she left the center ring, Briony raced for the bathroom and threw up what little she’d managed to get down earlier. She changed quickly from her skimpy, sparkly costume into a dark pair of jeans and a top. She could hear her brothers, laughing, excited, heading to the clubs to check out the nightlife. Kinshasa was reputed to have numerous nightclubs, and many people, in spite of the turbulent problems in the outlying areas, chose to travel there for the clubs.

“You okay, Bri?” Tyrel called out. “You want me to stay with you?”

“No, of course not, I’m fine,” she called back. “You have a good time, but be careful.”

“Lock the doors after us,” Jebediah instructed.