Street Game (GhostWalkers #8)(37)
Author: Christine Feehan

“She’s too valuable to kill,” Joe said. “She’s got too much training. Why would they put out a hit on her, and yet send me to guard her?”

“Because two factions are at work here, that’s why,” Mack said and stood up, pacing across the room, unable to contain the energy spilling out. Ordinarily he’d be talking it over with Kane. Jaimie had hit on something big and someone wanted her silenced, but now he didn’t know who he could trust.

Kane shot him a look as if catching his thoughts, but remained silent. Mack was grateful. He didn’t want to brawl in front of Joe, but the moment Kane said the wrong thing, there were going to be a few punches thrown.

Jaimie moaned softly and Mack immediately crossed to her side and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s all right, honey. I’m here with you.”

He knew Ethan wouldn’t take his eyes from Joe and he could fully concentrate his attention on Jaimie. She was asleep. And she was weeping. He’d seen it before.

Sometimes she even walked in her sleep, going from room to room, trying to find her mother. He’d had years of those nightmares, heartbreaking and far too frequent.

The year they’d spent together, the nightmares had lessened.

Mack bent over her, his fingertips gentle as they brushed at her tears. “I’m here, baby, you’re not alone.”

She opened her eyes then, but there was only anxiety and blankness. He knew she wasn’t aware. “I have to find her. She isn’t here. I can’t find her.”

His heart clenched so hard it felt like a heart attack, the pain gripping him until he could barely breathe. “She’s safe now, Jaimie. She’s where no one can hurt her.”

How many times had he murmured those words, trying to soothe her, quiet her mind when she was caught in the throes of a nightmare? It had always been Jaimie and her mother. Stacy had been fifteen when she’d given birth to her daughter. Her parents had thrown her out and she’d lived on the streets with the incredibly intelligent infant. Stacy had done her best for her daughter, working as a waitress and taking classes at night. It couldn’t have been easy and Jaimie had adored her mother.

He stretched out beside her, laying his claim in front of Joe. Jaimie was his. She would always be his, no matter how bad he screwed up, no matter how many mistakes he made. He’d find his way back to her, because in the end, Jaimie was his world.

He locked his fingers with hers, feeling a little helpless, as he always did when she was caught in the middle of a nightmare, restless and lost in another world he couldn’t travel into. He wasn’t a dreamwalker like Lucas or Ethan and he didn’t know what would happen if one of them entered her nightmare with her. All of them lived with enhanced psychic abilities, but they were all learning to cope with the skills, even after all this time. For him, he knew his abilities were growing. He could move from one place to another in seconds. At first it had been short distances, but now those distances were growing. It seemed that way with all of them, the psychic talents developing stronger over time and with use. Why, then, hadn’t Jaimie known Joe was a GhostWalker? Why hadn’t she sensed Gideon on the roof? And why was her reaction getting worse when she used her psychic abilities?

Because they were getting stronger. He closed his eyes as he brought her hand to his chest, just over his heart. That was the only explanation. Jaimie’s abilities were growing and the price was higher. Her talent was highly unusual. She could feel intent and, if expanded, she could take in an entire structure. Thinking about it, he realized she’d read the energy around her entire building and down the streets. What had she been reading on the street today? How large of an area?

She would be able to find positions on battlefields, know where snipers had positioned themselves, know if an assassin was in the crowd. She was too valuable to want dead, yet someone very high up had ordered her death. Was she close to finding Whitney’s supporters? She must have triggered a red flag in her search. That would be like Jaimie. She would go in where others would be terrified. She might not pull a trigger to kill someone, but she wouldn’t flinch when uncovering corruption and seeking justice.

“Stop crying, baby,” he whispered. “You’re killing me. I hate to feel helpless. You know that.” He wasn’t good at some things. Kane often had been the one wiping Jaimie’s tears away when she was a child and other kids tried bullying her. Mack was usually the one that beat the crap out of them. “Wake up, Jaimie. You’re here with me.” He pressed kisses along her temple. Come on, honey, you’re safe. I’ve got you.

He knew the instant she was aware of him lying beside her. He was in her mind, a place where he’d so often taken refuge in the past. He caught that brief flare of happiness, of completeness, and it settled the roiling in his stomach and mind. She hadn’t written him off quite as completely as she claimed, and she certainly didn’t hate him.

Every day had been endless without her unless he was in the field working. There had been a huge, empty hole nothing—and no one—could fill. He hadn’t bothered to try with anyone else. It was all about Jaimie. His other half. She had looked at him with stars in her eyes, allowing him the lead and following wherever he went. She hadn’t asked anything of him—until that night she left him. He was ashamed of himself, of his actions. He hadn’t wanted to admit to himself, let alone to her, what kind of power she had over him.

Jaimie. Honey. Can you hear me?

There was a small silence. He could hear the low murmur of Kane and Joe talking.

He couldn’t hear Ethan, but knew he was somewhere off to his right in the shadows, probably clinging to the ceiling like an upside-down spider. He could hear his heart beat.

Yes. There was a sob in her mind.

I should have told you I wanted you to stay. I know it’s not what you want to hear right now, but I was a f**king coward. Give me another chance with you. I don’t want to go through my life without you. I should have asked you to stay.

This time he counted his heartbeats. He felt her sadness beating at him. Her regret.

His heart beat double-time.

I’m not the same person anymore, Mack.

Is there someone else? He braced himself. She was going to kill him. He detested good-looking, over-six-foot Joe Spagnola, who had stayed all night with her to help her through her nightmares when he should have been there holding her.

Of course not. I loved you—love you, Mack. I always have. You don’t just get over that. Well, I don’t. You were my world. It took a little time to learn to just exist without you.