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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Paranormal, #Romance, #Fiction

Murder Game (28 page)

BOOK: Murder Game
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“They’ve got your parents and are running clear. They should be here anytime.” He stopped in the middle of the floor, took in the two tea mugs in front of her, the blood on her face, and the fact that she was no longer wearing the gloves she’d been wearing since the moment he’d met her. “What the hell are you doing?”

She felt her color rise. It was embarrassing to be caught, like a Peeping Tom staring in a window at someone’s private life. She wiped at the blood, succeeding in smearing it as she walked without haste to her gloves. “I’m sorry. I felt I had no choice.”

Tucker pushed in behind Ian, frowning when he saw the blood. He moved quickly to the sink and soaked a small towel. “Come here. Let me see what I can do.”

The headache was pushing forward and she didn’t want it, not with her parents and Kadan on the way. She shouldn’t be feeling guilty that she’d used her gift without Kadan present, but she had the feeling he’d be upset, and for some strange reason, that disturbed her. Her life was already twined with his in such a short time she could barely believe it.

Tucker tipped up her chin and dabbed at the blood, while Ian continued to stand with his hands on his hips, glaring at her.

“You may as well confess,” Tucker said. “Ian might stare holes through you. He’s scaring the hell out of me.”

“You’re guarding my parents,” she explained. “I had to know what kind of men you are. I tried not to pry too deep.”

Something dangerous flickered in Tucker’s eyes, but his hands remained gentle on her face as he removed the blood. “Did you find what you needed?”

She nodded, flashing a tentative grin. “Ian doesn’t like alligators.” She looked up at the tall Irishman. “I’m really sorry to have intruded. I was careful.”

Ian made an effort to keep from looking affronted. “I might have done the same.”

Tucker sent him a look, clearly reminding him they were there not only to keep her safe but to prevent her from leaving if she had a mind to, so they were just as guilty. “Do you get headaches along with the bleeding?”

She nodded. “I have some medicine in my bag.”

“I’ll get it,” Ian said and stalked out.

“I don’t blame him for being upset,” Tansy said. “No one wants to have their private thoughts read.”

“You can really do that?” Tucker asked.

She nodded. “I’m careful to wear gloves so I don’t handle things. It keeps a barrier between me and everyone else unless the energy is particularly strong, such as violent energy. Then I read it whether I want to or not.”

He studied the weariness in her eyes. “It takes a toll.”

“Yes. Does it on you?” She shook her head hastily when his gaze went hard and dangerous. “I didn’t pick up any national security secrets. I have no idea what you can do, but your energy and Ian’s both indicate strong psychic ability. Without Kadan here, I can read that just standing in the same room with you.”

Tucker nodded. He’d read her energy as well.

Ian came back in and handed Tansy her bag. “You look pale. Maybe you ought to sit down. If Kadan sees you looking like that he’ll kick our asses.”

Both Ian and Tucker were very large men with defined, bulging muscles. Neither looked as if he could get his ass handed to him very easily.

“He really isn’t as scary as you make him out to be,” Tansy said, swallowing the pills.

They looked at each other. “Honey-girl,” Ian said, “don’t you go deceiving yourself. Kadan Montague is hell on wheels in a fight. I don’t want any part of him.”

A strobe light flashed, and both men went from easygoing to alert, their demeanor changing abruptly. Tucker glided on silent feet, catching Tansy by the arm and pulling her with him to the living room. Ian plunged the house into darkness, drawing his weapon.

“Coming in,” Ryland’s voice came, and the front door opened.

He came through first, sweeping the area with his cool, hard eyes, gun out just in case they were walking into a trap. Ian relaxed and put his weapon away. Tucker released his hold on Tansy. The rest of the rescue team walked in, Don and Sharon Meadows in the center.

“Mom! Dad!” Tansy eluded Tucker’s grab and rushed her father, charging across the room, nearly knocking him down as she flung herself into his arms before anyone could stop her.

Kadan stood close to Don, inches from his side, the hilt of his knife already a part of his hand, and knowledge burning in him that he could stab deep, severing the jugular before Meadows would know what hit him, if Tansy’s father made one wrong move toward her.

Tucker and Ian moved to cover Kadan, and Nico and Gator took up positions in back and front of Meadows. Each had a knife blade up against his wrist where no one could see. Ryland was stuck with Sharon, still woozy from the drug Kadan had injected into her system to quiet her. He moved her to the side, making a show of placing his body between Meadows and his wife.

Even as Tansy kissed him, Don caught the movement, correctly interpreting the threat. He gently put Tansy away from him, holding her shoulders at arm’s length.

“Are you all right, Tansy-girl?”

“I’m fine, Dad, but I was so afraid for you. I heard Mom scream and I thought the worst. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

“No, he just knocked us around a little. It was just such a shock finding out he’d been betraying us all of those years. I considered him family.”

Don Meadows was lying to his daughter. Kadan flicked a glance at Ryland. Meadows had known Fredrickson belonged to Whitney.

“What did he do to Mom? And how could he, after sitting down with us all those years eating and watching movies and being a part of our family?” She looked beyond her father to her mother’s delicate frame.

Her eyes darkened when she saw the bruises. “Mom! Oh no. What happened?”

Kadan looked from Don Meadows to his adopted daughter and then to his petite wife, Sharon. Tansy’s hair was a thick mass of almost white gold, an unusual color at her age, almost a silver gold. Sharon’s hair was dyed the same color, but Don’s hair was prematurely silver gold, lending the parents a similar appearance to their adopted daughter.

Tansy hadn’t once looked at him, not even a stolen glance, not a hint of recognition, and part of him felt dead inside. He kept his hand curled around his weapon, not speaking, not interrupting the reunion, when he really wanted to drag her against him and make her notice him.

Sharon touched the bruise on her face. “Fredrickson hit me very hard when he took over the phone call. I nearly fainted.”

“I’m sorry he did that, Mom. He was a horrible person. What happened to your mouth?”

Sharon glanced at Don. “He was angry at your father. We didn’t know Watson was in on it, and when he came in, Don tried to jump Fredrickson. They didn’t touch him; I think they knew it wouldn’t do any good.”

Don swore. “Damn cowards. Hitting a woman.”

“They knew if they threatened me, Don would do whatever they said. They hoped you would too.”

Tansy was more careful with her mother, hugging her gently and kissing the bruises on her face. “Come sit down.” She caught her mother by the hand, tugging, leading her to the couch. “I would have gladly exchanged my life for yours, Mom, but fortunately I have friends who were willing to help.”

Don made a sound that was suspiciously like derision. Tansy didn’t look at her father. She wanted to go to Kadan. He was all she could think about. He filled her mind, but she needed to comfort her mother. She needed to touch her and know she was all right before she was selfish, before she acknowledged to herself, to everyone, that Kadan was her heart and soul. Because if her parents were involved with Whitney, she’d lost them and she needed this one last time to be wholly loved by them and love them back without reservation. Once she saw Kadan’s face, nothing else was going to matter to her for a long while.

She let out her breath, running her glove-covered fingers over her mother’s arm, feeling inexplicably sad. She wanted to touch Sharon skin to skin. To be normal. “I love you, Mom,” she said, her heart heavy. “I’ve always loved you so much. I’m sorry for all the letdowns over the years, but mostly for this. I don’t know what they want, but you got this,” she touched the bruise again with trembling fingers, “because of me.”

“No!” Sharon drew her daughter into her arms. “I love you more than anything. Your father and I both do. There are no regrets.” Surprisingly, her voice was strong, fierce even. “There never will be, no matter what happens. And I’m grateful your friends came instead of you. I would have been furious with you if you’d tried to exchange your life for ours.”

Tansy kissed her mother again and took another deep breath, before daring to look up at Kadan.

Kadan saw her breath hitch in her throat. He swore he felt her heart stop beating. The color drained from her face and her eyes went that peculiar shade of violet.

“Kadan,” she whispered his name and he felt her move in his mind.
Kadan.
A breath. A caress in his mind.

Suddenly for him there was no one else in the room. Only Tansy. Only that look on her face that was worth all the waiting in the world. She didn’t take her gaze from his as she crossed the few steps to him, seemingly oblivious to her parents’ curious stares. Her hand smoothed, featherlight, over his scar, then skimmed his chest, finger touching the rip in his shirt.

“Look at you,” she said softly. “Just look at what they did to you.”

He should have been embarrassed with the other GhostWalkers looking on, especially when he caught sight of Gator’s grin; the man was going to have fun tormenting him later, but nothing else mattered but that look in her eyes. All the teasing in the world was worth that moment. She was completely focused on him, soft inside, worried, her heart in her eyes. Her lips trailed down the side of his face to his chest.

How bad?
Her fingers went to his shirt, dragging it from his jeans in an effort to get at his chest.
I have to know how bad it is.
There was desperation in her voice, in her mind, and—God help him—tears.

His heart clenched. His belly knotted. How the hell did men survive women loving them? Because he honestly didn’t know. He framed her face with his hands, unable to prevent himself from seeing the blood staining his skin and the rough, scarred backs against her smooth, rose-petal-soft cheeks. The pads of his fingers, topped with microscopic velvet bristles, brushed against her mouth. That beautiful, full mouth that terrified him when nothing else could, smiling at him, kissing him, taking him to paradise,
loving
him as no one else had ever done or could do. She was such a damned miracle.

He bent his head to hers, uncaring that her parents watched, uncaring that his friends could probably see the caveman desperation in him. The claiming. The possession. The love that he couldn’t hide. This was coming home. Her soft mouth, hot as hell, sexy as could be. He closed his eyes and savored the cinnamon taste of her. It wasn’t enough. It never would be. His hands slipped to her shoulders, ran down the sides of her body to rest on her hips, fingers digging deep to pull her close against him. The true miracle was—she kissed him back. She didn’t step away, she pushed tight against him, pliant and soft and yielding, as if she belonged.

Thank you for bringing my parents home safe. And for keeping your promise that you’d come back to me.

You never have to worry about that, baby. I’ll always come back to you.
And God help them both, he meant it.

Reluctantly he lifted his head, searching her eyes for a moment, needing to feel the connection between them when, without her touch, he felt so much empty space between him and his emotions. He couldn’t quite bridge that gap without her.

Tansy tugged at his shirt. “Take it off. I need to see.”

If she’d said she wanted to see, he might have ignored her, but the need in her voice, in her mind, in the stark admission, had him pulling the shirt one-handed over his head and removing the vest. His chest was one black and purple bruise.

Behind him, Sharon gasped. “Watson was going to shoot me,” she whispered, her fingers going to her trembling lips. “I saw him aim for my head. I didn’t realize he shot you.”

Tansy closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers barely touching the massive bruise on his chest.
For my mother?

She knew he didn’t believe in her parents’ innocence.

You took this for my mother?
She looked up at him, love and awe mixed in her expression with pride and something so sexy he wanted to throw her on the floor and bury himself deep.

Kadan was so out of his depth he didn’t know how to respond. Hell no, he hadn’t done it for her mother—he’d taken the bullet for her. For Tansy. Okay, maybe it had been instinctive on his part, protecting the package, but if he had to think about it, he’d say the risk was all for his woman. He was so far from a saint it wasn’t funny, but if taking a bullet made her look at him like he was the best man in the world, he’d do it again.

It’s nothing, Tansy. I’m perfectly fine.
He skimmed his mouth from the corner of her eye to the corner of her mouth, scowled, touched his tongue to the side of her mouth, and pulled back with suspicion at the coppery flavor.

“What have you been doing?”

She couldn’t help the small guilty look she shot Tucker and Ian. Kadan followed the shift in her gaze, and his hands slid up over her hips to her waist. “You’re in trouble.”

Why in the world that sent a little electrical thrill through her, Tansy didn’t know, but suddenly her breasts ached and she felt the familiar dampness between her legs.

“I had to make certain . . .” She trailed off at the look in his eyes.

Kadan caught her chin and tipped her face up. “You don’t take risks. Do you understand me? You don’t risk yourself like that. If you wanted to know, you could have waited for me.”

He looked tired, weary, covered in blood, his chest black and blue, but his gaze held hers, steady and firm. Tansy smiled at him, leaned her body a little into his. “I hear you. I’ll be more careful.”

“Tansy,” Sharon said. “Please introduce us to these men. They certainly saved our lives. Thank you.” She smiled at each of the men and they squirmed a little under the attention. “Thank you all so much. I don’t even know your names. And, Tansy, this man is obviously very special to you. Don’t you think you should introduce us?”

BOOK: Murder Game
10.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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