Christine Feehan - Predatory Game

She tried to shut it out, pressing her hands to her head, but it was already inside, where she had no filters. There was no way to escape the pain, jackhammers pounding at her skull, the thunder of death, the silent scream of her victim. She rolled in agony, eyes closed, trying to breathe it away. She barely made it to her knees when her stomach rebelled, heaving over and over.

She had to get hold of herself. She was extremely vulnerable and Patsy desperately needed help. Unfortunately, even with a shield, if someone was torturing Patsy-and Saber was beginning to fear it was so-then the violent energy would slide under the shield and debilitate her, as this energy had done. Only an anchor could draw violent energy permanently away. The shield simply kept her energy from alerting others that she was close.

Ordinarily when she killed, she made certain her target was destroyed fast and with as little knowledge or pain as possible. She introduced a natural means, rather than a brutal blasting away of life. She’d never killed using a weapon, although she was proficient, and she was unprepared for the backlash.

She dragged herself to her feet, stumbling, her head still pounding, every movement jarring her teeth and sending shards of glass through her skull. This wasn’t going to be easy. She staggered around the flower bed to the window and unexpectedly the pain eased, and then disappeared altogether. She knew before she turned that she wasn’t alone.

Jess! Relief and fear mingled together. She spun around looking for enemies. Jess couldn’t outrun anyone or hide sitting in his wheelchair as he was. But without the pain she could think with clarity and interpret what she was feeling much easier.

He pulled her close to him, inspecting for damage. You can’t go in there alone, not after this. His voice was edgy, angry even, but his hands were gentle as he stroked her hair.

I have to go in there, Jess. Something bad is happening. She didn’t want to go in. “Something” wasn’t happening. Violence was happening. The moment she stepped foot in the house, the energy would have a target. With Jess close, it would be much easier to deal with, but she would have to get both Patsy and Jess out of danger.

You shouldn’t be here . It didn’t matter that she wanted him there, it was far too dangerous.

Get it done. I’ll be around at the back of the house. Try for the basement, but if you can’t make it, go out the attic. You’re especially good at that, aren’t you? I’ll cover you. Just bring her out, Saber.

Saber nodded and turned back to the window. She had almost handed the gun back to him, but hesitated. As awful as the backlash would be, using the gun might be the only way to save Patsy’s life. Whoever was in the house with her was playing for keeps, and the guard hadn’t been an amateur. What a mess.

She tested the window. Of course it was locked. Patsy had a security system, Saber knew, but considering the intruders in the house, she figured the system was likely off. She didn’t have time for finesse, and the room was empty. She waited, elbow poised, for the next boom of thunder. When it came, she hit the glass and reached through to disengage the lock.

It took only seconds to dive through the window and hit the floor, rolling for the cover of the sofa she’d seen during that brief meeting at Patsy’s house. The room was carpeted and most of the glass shards had fallen on a long, heavily cushioned window seat, making little noise. She smelled blood the moment she was inside. Fear hit her in waves. Red-black energy washed over and into her with brutal force. She choked and fought back the blackness swirling at the edges of her vision.

Jesse!

I’m here, baby. Breathe your way through it. I’m almost in position.

She could already feel the lessening of the violent energy as Jess got close enough to the house to draw it away from her. And how close was that exactly? Her heart thudded too hard in her chest and she bit down on her lip to steady herself. She couldn’t think about Jess and what these men would do to him if they got their hands on him. She had to keep her mind on her shield, build it as strong as possible to mask her presence as she began to search for Patsy.

She concentrated on being small and invisible, fading into the background, moving slow and low to the floor. With the small glimpses she’d had of the interior of Patsy’s house committed to her memory, she made her way to the sweeping double staircase that led to the wraparound art gallery. Paintings covered the walls going up the stairs and were displayed in alcoves along with sculptures on intricate pedestals. The curved gallery opened into the upstairs bed-and bathrooms, and already she knew exactly where Patsy was.

Two statues lay smashed on the parquet floor and there was a smear of blood along the wall near what was most likely the master bedroom. She heard men’s voices, slightly raised, harsh tones, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and Patsy’s cry of pain. Saber made it through the rubble without incident, conscious that she had no time to cover her tracks. If there was a third guard, he would see the marks of her passage, but it couldn’t be helped. Terror was coming at her in waves, even with Jess’s close proximity. The intent of the intruders was to brutalize, torture, and kill Patsy, and that energy was red-edged and horrific.

Saber ignored her churning stomach by reaching out to Jess, to find his calm, to feel the warmth of his mind.

Tell me.

She couldn’t tell him. Nothing would stop him from coming in, and how would she ever protect both of them? I’m almost there.

Saber peered into the bedroom. One man stood over Patsy, who was duct taped to a chair, her upper body naked and water dripping from her wet hair and skin. Bruises were already forming on her face, one eye closing, and marks marred her breasts and stomach. She wept continually, shaking her head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It doesn’t matter how much you hurt me, I don’t know. My brother was a Navy SEAL but he’s in a wheelchair now. Whatever you’re thinking he’s doing, he’s not. He couldn’t be.”

The man standing in front of her slapped her again and the second leaned in with a long-handled paddle, touching Patsy’s breast so that her body convulsed and she screamed as electricity sizzled.

Saber’s stomach flipped as she crawled into the room, coming up behind the first man who had slapped Patsy. He was medium height, but strong looking. He laughed and began to unbuckle his belt.

“She likes that, John. She’s into pain, you can see she’s getting horny. Look at her nipples.” He pulled off the belt and swung it at Patsy. “Lie all you want, bitch, but you’ll tell us in the end. We want names. His friends. Who he works for. Everything.”

The belt left a long welt across Patsy’s breasts and stomach. Her body jerked, but she didn’t scream this time, she just shook her head helplessly, her eyes wild.

“Tell us or your legs will be smashed just like his, bitch.”

Although the men were torturing Patsy, using depraved and brutal methods, Saber wasn’t necessarily getting sexual energy from them. Even the laughter wasn’t genuine. This was business. They would take Patsy apart-her body, her soul, her mind-until they knew everything she knew, and then they would kill her. It was simply business to them.

“Again, Greg, hit her again.” John bent toward Patsy, catching her hair and yanking her head back. “You’ll look good in stripes. Of course, we’ll stop anytime you want to tell us the truth about your brother.”

Patsy’s gaze jumped around the room searching desperately for a way out. Saber was now in position, on the floor directly behind the man called John, who still had Patsy by the hair.