Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers #4)(87)
Author: Christine Feehan

Briony choked back a scream, and covered her eyes as if that would block out the knowledge. Two little girls with the same tow heads, blond hair falling around their faces, their dark brown eyes enormous, walking and talking and holding each other until… Briony ran deeper into the mine, bent over, and threw up.

She had a twin sister. Whitney had ripped them apart, buried her memories behind a wall of pain, and sent her out alone while he kept her sister. How could she have let him erase the knowledge she had a sister? All the years that had passed, what had he done to Mari? Marigold. Had he taken her memory as well? Or did her sister know Briony was out there somewhere free, while she remained locked up with a madman and his experiments? Did her sister wait for rescue? Would he be so cruel as to torment her that way? Did her sister wonder every day of her life why Briony didn’t come for her?

Tears streaked her face as Briony staggered back to the entrance of the mine. She remembered bits and pieces only, but she knew she was right, she felt it, the clawing emptiness, just the same as when Whitney had torn them apart all those years ago. There had to be a way to find her. Brionywould find her, but first, she had to find out how Whitney’s men continued to track her. Before she could turn the tables on the doctor, she had to get completely away from him.

Briony’s head came up. Whitney had never really relinquished control over Briony. He had full control of her education and certainly her medical needs. She’d been available to continue with his experiments, even to being given the ability to change her skin color. So if that were the case, he had the ability to plant anything else he deemed necessary-such as a tracking device.

She swore softly under her breath. Of course there had to be a tracking device. He wouldn’t want her getting away from him when she was the future mother of his supersoldiers. When had he planted it? Not when she was a child; it was too many years ago and the technology advanced too fast. He’d want the best, the latest. When was the last time Dr. Sparks had done anything of importance on her? Two years ago she’d been hospitalized on an outpatient basis for surgery. Sparks had his own team there, not the regular hospital staff.

Briony touched her hip. She’d woken up with stitches, and Dr. Sparks had told her they’d found and removed a suspicious lump, and with her super physical abilities they couldn’t be too careful. He hadn’t specifically mentioned cancer, but he’d implied it and her mother had obsessed over every bruise and bump.

Briony ran her finger over the small scar, pressing deep to try to feel if there was anything beneath the skin. Her breath caught in her throat. If she pressed very hard, there were small ridges distinctly against the pad of her finger. Whitney had to have had the device implanted. And that meant that it wouldn’t matter if Jack and Ken held off an entire army as well as hid her in the deepest jungles-she would be found.

Her heart beating wildly, she opened the pack Jack had hastily put together. Weapons as well as a medic’s kit lay on top of her clothes. She pulled the knife from the scabbard and turned it over to inspect the blade. Jack and Ken seemed to have the best of equipment. The knife had a nice balance to it as well as a comfortable grip. She stared at the blade for a few moments, indecision warring with resolve.

Briony touched Jack’s mind, needing reassurance, hoping the danger was past and he could come for her, but his mind was totally occupied with a target. She withdrew from Jack and stared again at the knife. Very slowly she opened a packet of antiseptic and wiped the blade of the knife. She swirled some more over her bare flesh, right above her hip. It was cold and a shiver went down her spine.

She took a deep breath and pressed the tip of the knife against the corner of the small ridged disc in her hip. Her body shuddered and broke out in a sweat as the knife pierced her skin. She dug deeper, feeling her way to find the dimensions of the foreign object. She began to shake, the pain streaking through her, clawing at her stomach, but she was determined to cut the thing out. Once she knew the size, she ran the blade carefully along her skin, creating a flap. It was only about three quarters of an inch, but it seemed like half her hip was involved, with pain radiating down her leg and up her back. Even her stomach hardened. Once cut, she put down the knife and used the tweezers to extract the object, all the while whispering reassurance to the babies, afraid they might be aware.

She had to rest for a moment, breathing deep to keep from getting sick again. It was an awkward place to stitch, and blood was flowing freely, making everything slippery. The medical kit contained several needles, sutures-thankfully-already threaded. She’d practiced field stitching before, but somehow it seemed a lot more painful and difficult than she remembered.

Her hands trembled, which didn’t help, but she bit down hard on her lower lip and forced the needle through her skin. She worked at making tiny stitches as she closed the flap. By the time she was finished, Briony felt sick to her stomach and she leaned back to close her eyes briefly. The scent of her own blood was overwhelming in the small confines of the tunnel. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on stopping the churning in her stomach.

A small sound alerted her, the snapping of a twig. Her eyes flew open, and she caught up the nearest weapon, a rock, flinging it hard, using every bit of strength she had to launch it. Her hand was still bloody and the rock slipped as she threw. Luther’s face darkened with anger as he trapped the rock against his chest where it struck him. He stepped into the entrance of the cave, looming over her.

“If it isn’t the little whore, back with her man. That’s his defective brat in your belly, isn’t it? Not the lion tamer, you lying bitch.” Luther kicked at her.

She rolled over at the last minute, as the toe of his boot drove directly at her stomach. She kept rolling until she ran out of room, trying to scramble to her feet. Luther was too fast, following her, his large body trapping her against the wall of the tunnel. She drew her knees up in an effort to protect the babies, and waited for the next attack. Luther was breathing hard, the rage in his eyes terrible.

Jack! Forget calm. Forget being stoic. Jack, Luther found me!

He answered at once and she could have wept. His voice was utterly calm-completely confident. We’re on our way. Stall him if you can. If not, cooperate, baby. Don’t give him any reason to be pissed off at you.

Good thinking, but a little too late. I’m really afraid he’s going to try to hurt the babies. I don’t know what his deal is, but he seems to think I’ve betrayed him in some way. I’ve got the knife, but I don’t know if I can take him.