Deadly Game (GhostWalkers #5)(64)
Author: Christine Feehan

I’m already halfway in love with you, Mari. Maybe more way more than halfway, and it’s damned hard to admit. I want to do right by you, not take you out of the sun and bring you down to an entirely new level, but I’m not man enough to get you out of there and then just walk away. I’m damn well going to take you with me.

She was weeping inside. Weeping. He could feel it like a knife going through his heart. He rested his head on his arm. He was a few feet from a guard, and the man hadn’t moved in the last half hour. He was sitting on a rock reading a book. He hadn’t looked up or around him and had no idea that Ken lay within striking distance and that right now, every emotion was slowly being driven out of Ken so he would feeling nothing at all when he went after his prey.

I want to go with you. I’m just being a baby, so don’t get upset. I can feel you pulling away from me. Women are emotional at times, that’s all.

That’s not f**king all, Mari. That bastard has his hand inside of you and he isn’t going to live out the day. Who the hell does Whitney think he is, subjecting you to this kind of crap? And what kind of man is your friend Sean to allow it to go on?

Sean used to always stand with us. He helped me get out to see the senator, but now he seems different. I don’t know how he is, or why, but he’s doing and saying things that aren’t him.

Whitney somehow got to him. Don’t trust him, Mari.

I don’t. Are you okay now?

Don’t f**king ask me if I’m okay when that bastard is touching you. I should be asking you, but I don’t have to—I know you’re not.

He’s touching me in a completely impersonal, medical way. Mari tried to soothe him by lying, biting down on her lip, hoping the doctor would hurry his examination. Prauder was a pervert. He always took great delight in touching the women as intimately as possible, of photographing them in the worst positions, knowing there was nothing they could do about it. They all tried to pretend it was impersonal, because it was the only way they could live through it.

Ken, you have to be close to the laboratory for us to be able to communicate and that means you’re near guards. You can’t get upset and blow this. I’m counting on you.

Ken took a breath and willed a higher power to give him strength and control to hold out. If she could stand it—then so could he. There was sweat on his brow, and he allowed it to trickle down his face rather than move. Ants crawled over him. He stayed still and just let the air move in and out of his lungs. Night was falling, and always—always—the night belonged to the GhostWalkers.

Ken?

I’m here with you, baby. I had a brief meltdown but I’m back on track. Does the doctor live in the compound?

Everyone here does. Most of the soldiers live in the outer barracks. Whitney’s men have their own section. It’s closest to the small cottages. Whitney’s staff live in those houses, separate from the rest of us.

And where are you, Mari?

We used to have our own barracks, but with the new program we’ve been moved to the center of the laboratory underground, where he has bars on the doors. We’re always on lockdown and they try to keep us apart.

Do all of the women have telepathy?

I’m strong and so is Cami. We can build and hold a bridge between all the women, so we plan when we’re locked in our rooms.

How many have to get out?

There are five of us, but we have a plan. We can get rid of the bars on the doors, we think. We haven’t dared to test yet, but if we can, we’ll go out through the south-facing doors. It’s easier to move through the laboratory; there’s a little less security because the cameras are angled wrong. Once we make it to the surface we can head for the electric fence that’s about two miles from us. The woods are dense and there’s water. They have dogs, but a couple of the women can control them. Don’t do anything until we’re ready. I won’t leave anyone behind.

Well you make certain they’re ready to go, because when I come to get you, you’ll be coming out with me one way or another.

Mari opened her eyes and stared up at the bright light, trying not to smile again. He had that edgy command in his voice, the one that brooked no argument, the one that said he was the boss and she’d better damn well fall in line. He made her heart beat faster and her blood rush through her veins. Her temperature went up a couple of degrees every time he pulled the caveman routine. She liked him worried and edgy and ready to tear down the laboratory to get to her—and that told how far gone she was.

“Very good, Mari,” Dr. Prauder said. “We’re finished.” He signaled Sean, and the guard came forward and removed the straps from her arms and legs and handed her the gown.

She refused to look at him. They’re taking me back to my room. Thank you, Ken. I don’t know what I would have done without you to distract me.

Ken wiped the sweat from his face. She would have endured. She knew it and he knew it—because when you were in the hands of a madman, you resisted as little as possible and waited for that one moment to strike or run. Endurance was all you had.

What is the doctor’s name and what does he look like? Even as he lay under cover of bushes and grass, he’d seen half a dozen men in lab coats walking in and out of the facility.

Prauder. He’s Whitney’s chief doctor. The man’s a worm. I’m not entirely certain he’s human. He acts more like a robot. Mari pulled her gown around her and went back toward the alcove.

“What are you doing?” Sean asked.

“Getting dressed. I don’t feel like parading through the halls with this hospital gown on. I need my clothes.”

Sean glanced at Whitney and then shook his head. “We need to sweep them for tracking devices.”

She wanted Ken’s shirt. It was stupid, but she wanted it. She didn’t even glance at the alcove or at Sean. “I’m not walking down the hall in this stupid getup.”

I want a description of Prauder. Ken’s voice was insistent.

Mari was proud of herself for using telepathic communication without Whitney or Sean realizing it, both right there where they should have been able to detect it. But now that she was sitting up, facing them, she was afraid she might make a mistake. She took a breath and let it out. He’s short and skinny, balding with a small goatee. She kept it short and succinct.

Ken could feel her nervousness and her reluctance to continue their conversation. All right, baby, do whatever you have to do and contact me when you’re alone again.