Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(89)
Author: Christine Feehan

“This was a chance to pull ahead of Team One. The idiot Stallion couldn’t keep it in his pants and lost points for the other team. If he could pull this off, they’d surge ahead. The target was everything they could possibly want. High-profile. In public. The method was up to him, just get the job done. His kind of scenario. The thrill of walking into the courthouse with cameras everywhere and chatting with his target had been amazing. Hell, he nearly came in his jeans. Bodyguards everywhere. Stupid rent-a-cop mentality. Maybe for fun he’d take a couple of them out as well, but he had to make certain it all went down exactly as instructed, making sure the correct targets were taken.”

Tansy swallowed hard and forced herself to slow down, to try to make sense of what she was seeing and feeling. “He wants to do the murder publicly; it’s almost a euphoric feeling, very sexual, although sex has nothing to do with the crime, even if his target happens to be a woman. He isn’t at all like Stallion, where the murder is all about raping and dominating a woman. It’s the thrill all the way with this one.”

She took another breath, let it out, and slipped deeper into her hypnotic state. Kadan could see the silver spreading through the violet, so that her eyes began to shimmer. “You loved being in the military and didn’t want to leave. Why did you then? You hide your true nature so well. Why? You were forced to leave or you would have stayed on forever. You could do whatever you wanted and not get caught. Oh God.”

Kadan saw her hesitate. Her finger began to slide back and forth in a mesmerizing stroke over the back of the bull. “You killed more than one teammate, slipping up behind them and breaking a neck or shoving your knife into their side. You slit the throat of a commanding officer just a few feet from your team just to see if you could get away with it—and you did, blaming it on an enemy you killed. How did he know? No one saw you. No one ever suspected you, yet he knew. Who knew, cowboy, who knew you were a serial killer before you ever played the game? Of course. The puppet master. He knew and he stroked your ego and manipulated you into playing his game. But why? And why did you leave the military?”

Kadan moved closer to her, sensing she was being drawn farther away from him. He didn’t touch her, but kept his body an inch from hers, watching her hands now, watching the way she stroked the bull.

“An injury. Something bad. Something we can catch you with. You’re on disability. A decorated vet from special teams that rides bulls even though you’re on full disability. What is wrong with you? And how did he know you killed?”

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. Kadan stiffened. She was reaching for that other thread, the subtle one that was potentially more dangerous than any other.

“He knew you would kill. He knows you so well. He got you through, got you the . . .”

I have your favorite teddy bear. The one you kept from that old nurse who rocked you at night when your head hurt so bad it felt like someone was pounding spikes through it. Your energy is embedded deep in poor little teddy.

Kadan reacted instantly to that taunting voice brushing at the walls of her mind. He swept his arms around her, shoving his much larger fingers between her thumb and forefinger, forcing her hand open so the bull dropped free. He jerked her around to face him and settled his mouth over hers, kissing her long and deep, pushing himself into her mind, filling her full, so full of himself that there wasn’t room for anything or anyone else. He allowed images to fill his mind, to push into hers, images of the two of them making love, hot and sweet and fierce, just the way he was kissing her.

He gave the killers and the victims no chance to settle anywhere, sweeping them aside and staking his claim. Her lashes fluttered, and when he lifted her head, the color was back to violet, the opaque veil gone. He kissed her again.

“We did it.” There was a smear of blood by her nose. He removed it with the pad of his finger. “You picked up a lot even through the gloves.” Her body was trembling and she still seemed far away, but he’d brought her out of the trance and pushed the killers from her mind. “Let’s get you into the other room. You’re going to need your headache medicine.”

She shook her head, her fingers tightening on his arm. “No. I have to go after another one. I want the one with the faintest impressions. I have to do it now.”

She was swaying with weariness, and he could already feel the beginnings of the headache beating at her. They hadn’t even debriefed the first game piece or talked about the puppet master. And Kadan sure as hell wasn’t going to let her anywhere near that bastard. “It’s too soon. You’re exhausted and drained.”

“Exactly. He’ll believe I can’t do it again so soon. He won’t be looking for me. This is my chance. He’s so arrogant he thinks he’s way stronger, that I can’t possibly find him before he finds me. He went to my parents’ home, Kadan. He knows who I am and he went to my parents’ home, somehow got in and went through my things. I have a teddy bear I had with me before I was ever adopted. He has it. I’m going to find him now, today. He’ll think I’m done and he won’t be lying in wait to ambush me.”

“I don’t like this, Tansy,” Kadan said, uneasy with the idea. She was exhausted and shaken; he could feel her body trembling against his.

“I can do this, Kadan.” Her eyes met his steadily. “I can. We have a chance to track him right now. It might be our best shot at it.”

He took a deep breath and pushed down his need to protect her, his desire to wrap her up and keep her safe from any harm. She wasn’t a woman who played it safe, and just as he wanted her to accept his nature, he needed to accept that she was far too courageous for her own good—and he loved her that way.

“Damn it,” he said, capitulating. “Which one?”

Tansy leaned against him for strength while she passed her palms above the three remaining game pieces. Energy pulsed off of the scythe and she pulled her hands away quickly. “Move that one for me.”

Kadan picked the carved scythe up with a cloth and set it to one side.

Tansy tried again. The two remaining ivory pieces were side by side, so she could judge their potency. The scorpion hit her fairly hard, sending impressions of rage into her mind. She quickly pulled her hand away and stared at the last one—the hawk. “I think this is my best shot at it, Kadan. The others throw off so much violence I get impressions when I’m inches from them. This one is much more contained.”