Mind Game (GhostWalkers #2)(38)
Author: Christine Feehan

Stay here.

Dahlia took a deep breath and nodded. She made herself breathe again as he slipped over the edge of the roof. He left his pack and rifle and went in silence. She strained to keep him in sight, following his progress as he climbed down two stories, his darker shadow blending in with the night. He moved fast, a smooth descent that made her think of a night creature. She watched as he gained the small patch of shrubbery close to one of the three men stealthily waiting outside the windows and doors on the street side of the house. He was much taller than the bushes, yet he seemed to blend, his body nearly indistinguishable from the leafy branches.

She loved watching him move. He came up behind the man nearest him, standing directly behind him, close enough to breathe on him. She caught the glint of metal in his hand and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the violence of the act to swallow her. Her stomach lurched. She detested the act of taking life. She had developed her own philosophy based on the books that had appealed to her. She did believe everything in the universe was connected and that each life had a purpose. While she certainly believed in defending her own life, she had firsthand knowledge of the severe repercussions. Violence, once committed, lingered behind and subtly worked on those sensitive to its ugliness.

She lay still. The waiting was much more difficult than she’d anticipated. She could feel the gathering of energy from the men below, surrounding the house and cutting off escape. They were in various stages of adrenaline high and nervous anxiety. She was no telepath and couldn’t read their thoughts, but she was certain Nicolas could.

Dahlia? I think these men are from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, or at least were sent by them. Let’s hang back and watch them. If they came to assassinate you, we can still slip away. I don’t know why they’d fire a shot through the window, that doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t feel right to me. They’re too cautious. This feels exploratory, not a hit. We don’t want to make any mistakes and kill an innocent.

I don’t want to kill anyone, innocent or not. She let her breath out, opened her eyes and blinked. Nicolas was nowhere in sight. She would never find him now, even with her awareness of him. He was a chameleon, blending into his surroundings.

We prefer GhostWalkers. There was a tinge of amusement in his voice. The night belongs to the ghosts.

She rolled her eyes. He actually sounded arrogant. Men were strange, there was no doubt about it. Do you want me to carry your pack and rifle off the roof? It isn’t going to be safe up here, no matter who they are.

His hand slipped lightly over her mouth and Dahlia was rolled over to lie on her back staring up at him. He was on his belly beside her, grinning as her eyes widened in shock.

You’re lucky I don’t kick you off the roof. She took refuge in false annoyance. She couldn’t help drinking in the sight of him, nor ignore the relief that swept through her. Which, she decided, was annoying in itself. She loved being independent. It was the best part of who and what she was. He seemed to be destroying her solitary nature.

Nicolas shrugged into his pack and retrieved his rifle. Follow me.

Dahlia bit down on her lip to keep from muttering curses. She lacked social graces, no doubt about it. Following him gave her a great view of his backside so she wasn’t going to complain . . . this time. The man certainly enjoyed snapping out orders at every opportunity. Her heart was still pounding from him sneaking up on her. No one had ever managed to get close to her without her knowledge, because the energy always reached her first. It was something she’d always taken for granted. She was beginning to realize she couldn’t take anything for granted around Nicolas.

She did her best rendition of a lizard, scooting across the roof to the far side. Nicolas waited by the edge, drawing a rope from his pack. She touched his arm and shook her head, pointing to an inch-thick cable running between the two buildings. Jesse has those placed around any safe houses or buildings we might use.

His eyebrow shot up. You think I’m going to use that to cross over?

Baby. Dahlia took the lead, stepping with confidence onto the thin cable. She wished she weren’t wearing boots. Light-soled shoes worked best for cable-walking, but there was little wind to push her around as she made her way across.

The cable stretched between the buildings, two stories off the ground. Nicolas watched, his heart in his throat, as her slight figure covered the distance. This was no slow, arms out for balance, circus walker. She moved with complete poise and assurance. He dared not touch her thoughts, afraid of distracting her, yet he desperately wanted to know what was happening in her brain to allow her such complete control. There was no way he was walking across that thin little cable. His stomach was in knots by the time she reached the other side.

Nicolas took a breath and let it out, relieving the terrible tension that had built up in him. Nothing either of his two grandfathers had taught him had prepared him for meeting Dahlia. He was grateful for the discipline and control of both mind and body. It had, at times, been rigorous, but it was his background and his military training that allowed him to be with Dahlia.

He slung his rifle around his neck, checked to make certain he could move freely without being seen, and slipped off the edge of the roof, going hand over hand to the other side. It was a long way. He was halfway when he felt the first stirring of an awareness of danger. Immediately he stopped moving and scanned the surrounding area. His visual of the street was somewhat impaired by two tall trees. He shifted slightly, moving with more caution.

Do you feel it? Dahlia’s voice was a mere whisper in his head. The bridge between them was shaky. He felt more of a push of energy than anything else, almost as if she’d sent it his way to share the feeling of danger within it.

Drop back where you’re safe from attack. The second the words left his mind he wished them back. She was not a woman to be idle when there was danger. She’d spent far too much time on her own, and she’d relied heavily on her own judgment. He had to find a way to curb his overwhelming protective instincts.

Dahlia clenched her teeth and didn’t respond. In her life, very few people ever tried to give her orders. Even Whitney had given up after a few harrowing accidents. It wasn’t just other people’s emotions, it was her own she feared most. She had a fiery temper and all the Zen meditation in the world didn’t seem to help her when someone tried to boss her around.

She watched as Nicolas made his way hand over hand across the distance, breathing a sigh of relief when he swung silently onto the roof. She dropped back to give him more room. He crawled over to her.