Deadly Game (15 page)

Jack always thought that, after discovering their parents, Ken’s tears had been from both grief and the pain of two broken arms, but it had been grief for his mother and the terrible knowledge that he had put his twin in the position of having to kill their father. Years later, when he had been tortured by Ekabela’s men, Ken had known Jack would come for him. Dead or alive, Jack would come and Ken chose to stay alive to keep Jack from single-handedly trying to wipe out the rebels in the Congo. Ken had always felt responsible for his brother. He knew Jack’s personality, the demons that drove him, and he would always feel responsible for bringing out the worst in his brother.

After injecting Mari with the painkiller, he passed a hand over his face. They’d stripped her of her clothing and her dignity. How could she forgive that? He knew what it was like to be stripped, the fear that accompanied the complete vulnerability a prisoner felt. His fingers tangled in her hair, stroking the strands under cover of darkness. He needed to touch her—needed to be close to her—and that was so dangerous to both of them. He’d worked his entire life to stay ahead of the monster and in one brief moment she had brought it roaring to life, all claws and teeth, raking at his gut and his mind.

He’d known the moment he’d inhaled her scent, taken her deep into his lungs, that he had been paired with her by Whitney. Anger had been his first reaction, anger that he could have so easily been made a victim, but then, when Jack had stepped close to her, he felt the sharp knife of jealousy, as ugly and as dangerous as anything his father had ever displayed. It had been a vicious reaction, knotting his guts, sweeping a black, swirling haze through his mind until he could taste it in his mouth. The need for violence had nearly overwhelmed him. And then he’d been afraid—more afraid then when Ekabela’s men had stripped him naked, laid him out spread-eagled, and begun their slow, meticulous work on his body.

His mouth went dry just thinking about how he’d wanted to wrap his fingers around Jack’s neck to keep him away from Mari when she’d looked at his face—his perfect face. Ken scrubbed a hand over the mask, feeling the ridges and the shiny skin, the edge to his lip. Funny how he’d never really minded before. He’d had pangs, of course, but for the most part he accepted what had been done to his body the way he accepted everything in his life. It was a fact, and one dealt with it. Besides, his face was nothing compared to the damage done to his dick. He closed his eyes briefly, remembering how they cut closer and closer and the bile had risen and the fear—the terrifying moment when they were finally there and made that first gut-wrenching cut.

“Ken,” Jack said, his voice low, “are you all right?”

Ken wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Jack was far too tuned to him for him to hide any strong emotional reaction. Jack wouldn’t willingly lose his twin, but it was only a matter of time before Jack would be forced to accept the truth—and that would endanger Mari’s life and Briony’s well-being.

Ken held out one hand. As steady as a rock. “I’m fine. Just trying to figure what we’re going to do about this situation.”

“Lily says she’ll be up waiting for her. Flame, Gator’s wife, is working on hacking into Whitney’s computers,” Logan reported. “She’s very skilled and doesn’t leave any trace, so hopefully Whitney won’t catch on that she’s able to access his files. So far, Lily has no real data on Mari. No one really remembers much about her before she and Briony were taken away.”

Ken knew Gator was out of the original GhostWalker teams. The two teams had become much closer after Nico and his wife Dahlia, both members of the original team, had rescued Jesse Calhoun, a member of the SEAL GhostWalker team, stealing his bullet-ridden body right out from under the protection of his captors. They had combined their resources and fallen back on trusting each other rather than the chain of command.

“Did you speak to the admiral, Logan, to confirm who gave the order for protecting Senator Freeman, and where the threat came from?” Ken asked.

Logan shook his head. “I tried, Ken, but they said he’d headed for Boston, that he had a meeting and would be contacting me as soon as possible. I’ve been maintaining silence just in case anything we’re doing is monitored. There’s definitely activity on all the bases. They want this woman back. Were you able to find out anything?”

“Only that she’s a GhostWalker and her team seemed to be there protecting the senator from the same threat we were,” Ken answered. “She heals far faster than we do. If Lily can add that in for us, it would be helpful. Her leg was in bad shape and she lost a lot of blood. I can’t believe how fast she’s healing.”

“Actually, Lily noticed that with Flame. She was attacked by an alligator and her arm healed at an amazing rate of speed,” Logan replied.

“Has Flame kicked the cancer?”

“It seems to be in remission. Lily is hopeful for a full recovery this time. She’s asking everyone who is physically enhanced to come in for tests as soon as possible, just to be on the safe side.”

“Whitney deliberately gave her cancer. He didn’t like her,” Ken said, as his gaze drifted over Mari’s face. He knew the moment she regained consciousness. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, listening to their conversation, but his heightened awareness of her and his enhanced abilities in the dark made him all too aware of her breathing changes, and she was giving off the scent of fear.

He forced back the need to gather her into his arms and hold her, to reassure and protect her, a reaction he hadn’t expected when every other reaction connected with her seemed so violent. He knew he should break contact, but he couldn’t, not when she was so afraid. Jack glanced at him and knew immediately she was awake. Ken shook his head slightly, and Jack stared out the tinted window, ignoring everyone.

“Whitney has a lot to answer for,” Ken said grimly.

“Ryland has been worried Whitney may try to snatch Lily’s baby. They’ve been reinforcing all the security systems so if he makes a try at the house, he’ll run into trouble.”

“It would be ridiculous for Whitney to try to take down Miller’s GhostWalker team, especially there. That house is a fortress.”

Ken felt a tremor run through Mari, and he slid his hand along her shoulder and down her uninjured arm until he found her hand. His fingers laced with hers. He half expected her to pull away from him, but she curled her fingers around his and held on.

You drugged me.

I knew the ride would be painful. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not, so I won’t bother lying about it.
His thumb slid over the back of her hand in a small caress.
No one is going to hurt you, Mari.

No thumbscrews?
There was a small note of humor that managed to cut through the fear.

No. Lily is going to run a few tests though, just to make certain Whitney doesn’t have any nasty surprises up his sleeve.
Ken glanced at Logan, who was rubbing his temples. Logan was a powerful talent, and Ken was fairly certain he was well aware they were communicating telepathically, but he didn’t allow his expression or his gaze to give him away.
Mari, energy waves like to spread out and keep going through all surfaces, including human beings. We find them disturbing, so people around us often react with headaches. When you talk to me, concentrate only on me. Think of a small stream with precise banks. Send the energy wave straight down that path, from you to me. You’re used to sending to a team, not one person.

I’ll try. Ken? I wanted to tell you something important. I’m a little doped up right now, so I may not be saying it right, but all that stuff about you being like your father, well it just isn’t true.

You can’t know that, Mari. You can’t trust me. Hell, I don’t trust me.

Brett makes my blood freeze every time he gets into the room with me. The other women feel it too. I don’t have that reaction with you.

Whitney programmed you to have a physical reaction to me; that’s all it is, Mari. Don’t make anything else out of it.

Mari kept her eyes closed, not wanting to deal with any of the others. The vehicle was swaying, tires bumping over obstacles occasionally jarring her, but it was still peaceful. She could smell the night, clear and fresh after a recent rain. She had no idea where she was, no way to escape, and she was naked beneath the sheet, feeling entirely too vulnerable, especially now when there were other men close by.

She knew by the scents that there were two men, the driver and one who was closer to her. He was dangerous. She sensed his alertness, the way he held himself still and quiet. They were always the deadliest of the soldiers. Sean was the same. Jack was like that. Ken was like that. Men, coiled and ready, quiet and calm but able to strike so fast no one would ever know what hit them.

She should have been terrified, but Ken made her feel safe and protected, which was silly when he was just as much of a threat—maybe even more so to her—than the others. She lay still, eyes closed, pretending he was holding her hand on a date. She’d never had a date. Never been to a movie that wasn’t a training film. She’d never walked down the streets of a city holding hands, and she’d never gone out to dinner in a restaurant. She wouldn’t know how to act in a family setting. It was a dream, a silly, foolish dream, but it suited her to pretend—even if it was only for a few minutes.

The compound would be waiting for her when she found a way back to it, and then her “sisters” were going to have to get serious about escaping because she was not putting up with Brett and his punishments for not cooperating with him. She’d thought of a dozen ways to kill him, but she knew Whitney would punish the other women. Ivy was proof of that. Mari had to go back regardless of whether or not the Nortons and their team were on the same side. She had to go back because Whitney was a megalomaniac whack job and he had far-reaching tentacles.

Do you think Whitney ordered a hit on the senator?
Mari asked Ken.

She loved the sound of his voice. It seemed to move through her, as slow and thick as warm molasses. The sound felt like a caress inside her head, sliding over her skin and into her body to heat her bloodstream. He wasn’t trying to seduce her, and it was frightening to think what would happen if he actually set his mind to it. She tightened her fingers on his, uncaring how much of her emotional state she was giving away.

Why would he, unless the senator was going to give him up? I take it Freeman knows about Whitney’s laboratory experiments? After all he married one of them.

Violet. Violet had been a good friend. Whitney had paired her with the senator. He’d sent her to be his bodyguard, and the next thing anyone knew, Violet was married. Whether or not Whitney still pulled her strings—and Mari couldn’t imagine him letting her go—she seemed to love her husband.

What’s the tie between Senator Freeman and Whitney?
Ken asked.

His father and Whitney went to school together.

Ken considered her answer. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it.
Logan, contact Lily. Have her find out as quickly as possible who Whitney’s friends in school were. He only ran with the very intelligent and very wealthy.

Marigold jerked her hand away, her eyes flying open, glaring at him, knowing he could see her in the dark—just as her enhanced vision allowed her to see him.
You passed that information on to your friend.

Ken stared down at her furious face. He didn’t spill energy—not ever. She was tapped into him more than just through pheromones. What the hell had Whitney done? And how? When? She was reading his thoughts without benefit of expression, energy spill, or anything else. What kinds of psychic abilities did she have? How dangerous was she? As much as he wanted to protect her, he had to think first of Jack and Briony and the twins Briony carried. Whitney would go to any lengths to get his hands on those children—even sending Briony’s own sister.

Jack. Briony isn’t waiting for you at Lily’s, is she?

Jack stirred, a predatory tiger stretching. His gaze was flat and cold as it drifted over Mari.
Yes. It was the only safe place I had to stash her. Ryland and his crew are watching over her. And I thought if she was going to meet her twin for the first time, it was the safest place.
There was a question in his tone, although he didn’t voice it.

Don’t!
Mari blinked back sudden tears. He was warning his brother off, sending Briony away. For the first time Mari really let herself think about seeing her sister. Just a quick glimpse, that was all she really needed. Just to know she was alive and happy. Mari desperately needed Briony to be happy.

Mari wasn’t touching him, but she knew. Ken could see it on her face, read it in her mind. There was panic, sorrow, anger, all mixed into one, as if Mari couldn’t quite make up her mind how to feel about what he’d done. But he had no choice.

Get her out of there, Jack. Send her to Jesse Calhoun or Nico and Dahlia. We have to have Lily take a look at Mari, and we just can’t take the chance without knowing what’s going on. She has talents we don’t have a clue about.

Jack swore softly. Briony was anxious to see her sister. He had made her a promise that he would find Marigold, and he meant it. But Ken was right. There were no taking chances with her. Until they knew what Whitney was up to and whether or not Mari was really on their side, they just couldn’t take the risk.

How could you warn him off of me like that? What kind of threat could I possibly be to my sister? That’s what you did, isn’t it? I’m a prisoner, surrounded by trained GhostWalkers, and I have a broken hand and leg. You must think I’m really good.

Shaking with anger, she stared up at Ken’s expressionless face. He was every bit as cold and unfeeling as she’d first thought him. He’d managed to fool her because Whitney had set it up that way, made her vulnerable to him. Whitney so loved his little jokes. He loved to feel superior, and she’d defied him so often. This was probably his punishment—to make her believe she was close to seeing Briony. She’d been right not to think about her, not to hope.