Christine Feehan - Predatory Game

The moment she brushed against him, an electric current sizzled through her body and she had to force herself to keep from looking up. GhostWalker . Damn it. Damn it, she’d waited too long. The man was an enhanced soldier, an anchor if she wasn’t mistaken, and no one was safe now. She had to get Jess out of the bar as quickly as possible and maybe-oh God, she couldn’t believe she was considering it-she had to find a way for Ken and Mari to escort them to the van. Unless…

For a moment she couldn’t breathe, her breath hitching, but she was a professional, and if Jess was betraying her, delivering her back into Whitney’s hands, then she’d better be prepared for anything. She was surrounded, and they couldn’t know that she knew. But would Jess allow her to snuggle onto his lap if he’d been told about her? She had to think. Maybe excuse herself and go to the restroom. She could be gone in seconds. Saber was an expert at disappearing. They’d have a man, maybe two outside, but she could make it out. Eventually they’d find her gear. She sighed. If Jess was really in danger, then she was leaving him vulnerable.

Jess knew immediately that Saber had identified Logan as a GhostWalker. She didn’t change expression or even stiffen, but for one split second her breathing had caught.

You’re made, Logan. Even with me shielding, she knew.

I felt it when she touched me. Logan did a mental shrug. It doesn’t surprise me in the least. I was shocked that the two of you had been in the same house for so long and neither knew about the other.

Saber had her arms around Jess, her palm curled along the nape of his neck, skin to skin, and she felt the current of energy arc in the air, from Jess to the stranger. She automatically tuned her biorhythm to Jess’s to get the feeling for the current. The brain activity gave telepathic communication away every time. She knew exactly what part of the brain did what and where the pulses came from. He was talking to the man with the ice-cold blue eyes.

She kept the rhythm of her heart exactly the same. Her pulse didn’t leap, not even when it entered her mind that she could be in a trap, with Jess as the bait-all-too-aware bait. He knew them all. And he was talking to them. If she slipped into his rhythm, she might even pick up the exact pathway and eavesdrop.

She didn’t dare think that Jess had betrayed her-not for real-because if he had, she didn’t know what she might do. Would she-could she-kill him?

“Saber, talk to me,” Jess said. She was moving away from him. Not physically. If he didn’t know her so well he wouldn’t have sensed any difference in her, but he felt a jarring note, as if his energy had fit with hers and now it bounced back as if she had turned away. “What’s wrong?”

She wanted to shake him. She detested playing games, but she had no choice. “Nothing.” Now she sounded sulky and felt inadequate. The moment they returned to the table, she jumped off his lap. “Nothing at all.” She even managed a quick, bright smile. Who smiled before they killed? She’d undergone tests most of her life, mental, psychological, physical, and emotional. She’d always been too emotional to please Whitney. He’d come close to terminating her several times, close to using her in one of the programs few survived, but by that time, she’d caught on. She knew she had to play his game and be better at it, because in her world, being the best at dealing death meant surviving.

Mari indicated the drinks on the table. “The owner sent us another round.”

There was no more sipping at drinks or trusting her companions, not even to pretend. She watched Jess take his drink and lift it with a nod toward the bartender. Ken tipped Mari’s glass and then Saber’s. She was careful about actually putting her lips to the rim. A dusting of poison could kill in an instant. Appearing distracted by a dancer, she set the drink aside, still standing, tapping her foot to the beat.

“This is great music,” she said to no one in particular, allowing her gaze to drift over the crowd. Men and women who could handle themselves had a distinct look. She touched a few potentials, men who looked good in a fight, men who carried themselves with confidence, who moved with easy, sure steps and flowing muscles. She couldn’t discount the women as a threat either.

Mari was a soldier. There was no doubt in Saber’s mind. She’d gone through the same extensive training Saber had, and it had been thorough. She probably knew more ways to kill a man than most individuals in the room. She’d gone through psychological and emotional testing. She was trained extensively in weapons and hand-to-hand, but more importantly, she had been put through test after test on her ability to think in a crisis. On how to remain cool and calm, how to be as cold as ice in any given situation.

For the first time in her life, Saber was grateful for the years of training, for all the times she’d been punished for showing emotion. Jess had betrayed her, sold her out to the other GhostWalkers. By all rights she should terminate him.

“Have you met Jess’s sister, Patsy?” she inquired, hanging on to her smile.

Ken nodded. “I have. I had met her before this happened.” He ran his hand over the scars on his face. “She cried when she saw me. Patsy is a very caring woman.”

“I haven’t met her,” Mari said. “I’d like to though. Both Jack and Ken talk about Jess and his family quite a bit.”

“Jess always invited us for holidays,” Ken said. “He has a nice family.”

Saber continued to search the room without seeming to do so. There would be others in the crowd. They would want a full team if they planned to reacquire her. She pushed all sentiment away, all regret. Escape wouldn’t be easy. She was small and her strength wasn’t in hand-to-hand. She was good with weapons, but again, it wasn’t her specialty. She could do it-would do it-because she had to. When failure wasn’t an option, you found a way to get it done.

“I’ve only met Patsy, and I really like her.”

“She thinks Saber is too young for me,” Jess said. She was pulling away from him. He could feel her withdrawal as surely as if she were already gone. Something close to panic pressed on his chest until he could barely breathe. He had never panicked in his life. Not once. Not in training, not in combat, not when he’d been captured and tortured. But panic filled him until he could barely think straight.

“Saber.” He said her name in a low voice. “Look at me.”

She didn’t even turn her head his way. She kept that soft, dreamy look on her face, the small half smile, and she looked as if she was very interested in the dancers.

“I’m listening.”

Even her voice was perky, damn her, but he knew. He knew with every fiber of his being. Look at me now! It was a command, sharp and firm and demanding.

Startled, her eyes met his in shock.

Do you honestly believe that I would betray you? Don’t look at anyone else. Look at me. Do you think I brought you here so that bastard Whitney could take you away from me?

He was furious with her-that she could believe such a betrayal. And hurt. God, it hurt like a son of a bitch. He wanted to shake her, so much so that he didn’t dare put his hands on her. The table vibrated beneath his palms. Ken shot him a quick inquiry, but Jess ignored him, holding Saber’s gaze. Answer me, damn it, is that what you think of me? That I would hand you over to him after living with you for nearly a year?

She moistened her lips, her only nervous gesture. She didn’t even blink, but stared him right in the eye. Her gaze shifted back to the crowd. His heart slammed hard in his chest, one jolt and his stomach felt as if he’d been sucker punched.