Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(97)
Author: Christine Feehan

This one had probably been a mistake, but he’d had no real choice at the time. Scorpion had maybe one to two more murders in him and then he’d probably kill himself. He didn’t like making mistakes. He placed his tool on the table and moved it a couple of centimeters. Precise. Absolutely precise. Tansy drew in her breath sharply. The puppet master had OCD. His work shed was immaculate, every tool labeled and placed in an exact, designated spot. Nothing was out of place. Even the shavings were caught in a small container, so that not a speck was on the table or the floor of the shed.

This was his private residence and she doubted if it was on base. She tried to look around to see anything that might identify where he was. The longer she stayed, the better the chance of alerting him, but she wanted to give Kadan something more to go on.

She could make out windows, four panes darkened, but she could still see out. He must have been looking outside while he carved the ivory. He was humming off-key. And he was “pushing” at Scorpion, slashing at his mind with deliberate, painful strokes to provoke him. The man had no filters, and too much testosterone flooding his body, making him more aggressive than normal, his genetic altering deliberate.

A mistake. He made another careful cut into the ivory. He had chosen Tommy because he was already aggressive. His psychic talents were already strong as well, but like the others, Tommy had failed his psychological profile, not, like the others, due to his violent tendencies, but Tommy had them, buried beneath the surface. He’d thought he could bring the aggressive tendencies out and manipulate Tommy as easily as he did the others. He’d been wrong. Wrong. He detested mistakes and never allowed them, yet Tommy was living proof. He should have listened to his instincts and waited just a little longer to find the right candidate.

Tansy stroked a finger along the back of the scorpion, following the movements of the puppet master’s fingers. Up the curved tail, feeling each groove. There was something there. A watch. A very distinctive watch.

You’re getting to be a nuisance. Or maybe you’re just lonely. Are you lonely, Tansy? Tell me where you are. Talk to me. I tried to visit you, but no one was home. Are you going to be waiting for me?

Tansy forced down fear and stayed still, breathing in and out, following the pattern of Kadan’s breath. Kadan was there in her mind; she felt him, yet he didn’t yank her out of the situation as he always had done. He waited with her, believing in her, and that gave her the confidence to carry out her plan. She wanted to keep the puppet master talking, hoping he would make a mistake while trying to draw her out.

He believed himself stronger, a better tracker, but she didn’t think so. He manipulated eight men, but he didn’t track killers. She’d been doing it for years. His ego was going to be his downfall.

I know you can hear me. Are you enjoying our little game as much as I am? I’ve found out quite a bit about you. Things you probably don’t know about yourself. I have access to several very secret files. I’d share if you were interested.

Deliberately she stirred, sending a vibration along the thread, somewhere between apprehension and curiosity, spinning her spider’s web to catch herself a fly. The puppet master would want to talk. He’d never had the opportunity to show off before. This was his big chance. He couldn’t let her live long, of course, but while she was alive, he could share his superiority. Someone would know.

Tansy let him make the connection stronger, sending his energy back along the thread to find her. And with his energy came more information. She saw the box on the table, the bold, precise lettering. James R. Dunbar.

Kadan opened his hand and dropped the scorpion. They had him.

Chapter 19

Kadan sat at a small booth in the bar, Jeff Hollister and Gator across from him. Nico had already staked out the high ground just in case they needed backup. Jeff was a California boy, born and bred for surf and fun, with his bleached blond hair, dark tan, and ripped body. He looked at home in the bar, a trendy place overlooking the crashing waves below. Directly behind Kadan sat his prey, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper.

“You’re always braggin’,” Gator said aloud. “You’re so full of shit. No one can hold their breath underwater that long, bro. Fifteen minutes, what a crock.”

Jeff hitched forward. “I heard of a guy, local legend around here, owns a scuba business. Rumor has it he can hold his breath easily that long.”

Kadan snorted loudly, derisively. “Talk about a braggart. I heard of that airbag. Talks himself up so people go to his business, but I could outlast him any day of the week. On my worst day that blowhole couldn’t compare.” He shoved himself away from the table, standing. “I’m going to start my own business and run his ass right outa this town.”

Jeff and Gator laughed at his joke and Kadan waved and sauntered off. Behind him, he heard a chair scrape and felt the other man following close. Kadan went out into the night and inhaled, dragging information into his lungs. Frog had taken the bait, if it was Frog, and Kadan was certain Flame and Lily had found their killer. He was ex- Special Forces, had applied for the psychic enhancement, supposedly been turned down, but had disappeared for special training for months. He’d resurfaced with a team and run some missions, but his team had a bad reputation for trouble. In the end, he had been discharged and now ran a scuba diving business for tourists.

Kadan paused with his hand on the door of his SUV, to light a cigarette, something a diver wouldn’t do.

“Hey, man.” Frog came up beside him. “I heard you inside, talking about free diving. I do a little of that. I like to go down without gear.”

Kadan grinned, a cocky smirk. “Gear’s for wimps.”

“I’ve got a boat right on the dock,” Frog persisted when Kadan turned away. “You want to go man-to-man and see who can hold their breath longer? Or are you scared?”

Kadan allowed his face to darken and his eyes to smolder. “No one can beat me under the water. I’m a f**king fish.”

“I’m a shark. So let’s do it.”

Kadan slammed his door shut and snapped away the cigarette he hadn’t smoked. He didn’t bother to look around; he could feel the GhostWalkers, his team, closing in to back him up. He went with the ex-SEAL, following him along the dock until they came to a high-powered boat. He stepped on without a qualm, showing off a little, that same cocky smirk on his face.

“You really think you can beat me?” Kadan asked.