Christine Feehan - Predatory Game

She stopped, her jaw dropping, mouth open in shocked disbelief. “What? Why would you think for one minute that I could fix the bionics?” She felt absolutely vulnerable-naked, unable to talk when she didn’t have her clothes. On the edge of desperation, she looked around her. “I may have read the file Whitney left out, but I’m not a doctor and I don’t understand half of what was in it.” She looked exasperated. “I can’t find my clothes.”

“Saber, look at me.”

“I have to go to work.”

“In the report Whitney mentioned something about electricity being used for regeneration, did he?”

She spun around, her face going white. “I know you’re not talking about that ridiculous article he cited. Biologists manipulating the electrical fields in tissues to regenerate amputated tails of tadpoles at a stage when they can’t regenerate? Not that. Because there’s a huge difference between a tadpole and a human being.”

“What else did the article say?”

She swirled the sheet around her, holding it close. “It doesn’t matter. I know where this is leading and I’m not going to do it.”

The discussion wasn’t going well, Jess decided. She was tense, her fingers twisting together, knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheet. She had a stubborn look on her face. Her mouth was set firm and her chin high.

“Just tell me what else it said.”

“There was something about electrical fields helping to, and I’m quoting here, ‘control cell identity, cell number, position and movement, which is relevant to everything from embryonic development to regeneration to cancer and almost any biomedical phenomenon you could imagine.’ I don’t want to know what that means in terms of your bionics, Jess. You can’t just introduce electricity into the body. It can kill you. I ought to know.”

“Or it can be used to save someone, the way it did Patsy.”

She shook her head. “I’m not having this discussion with you. I’m not. I don’t care if you get angry with me, I’m not risking your life. I won’t do it. And you’d better keep those two friends of yours away, because neither one of them is doing it either.” She sent him a smoldering look, controlled fury in her eyes. “I’m going to work. Never, and I mean never , bring this up to me again.”

She turned to walk out of the bedroom. The door slammed closed, trapping her inside the room.

Saber turned around slowly, trying to tamp down the anger suddenly churning in her stomach. “Open it.”

Jess reached down to the floor to scoop up his trousers and shirt. “We need to talk about this, and since I can’t chase after you…”

“Don’t you dare play your wheelchair card on me,” Saber hissed. “I don’t deserve it. I’m going to take a shower and find clean clothes. I’ll talk to you when I’ve calmed down. Open the door, Jesse.”

Jess realized getting her to say she would talk after a shower was the best he was going to get. If he made her any angrier, she wasn’t going to listen to anything he had to say. “After your shower we can meet in the kitchen.”

She stood waiting, tapping her foot in silence.

“It’s easier to close doors than open them,” he admitted. “I’ll meet you in fifteen minutes.”

Saber yanked the door open and stalked through to the hallway. She ran up the stairs, furious with Jess, angry that he would risk his life. He had a good life. Most people would have given anything to have what he had. A family. Parents who loved him. A sister like Patsy.

“Damn you, Jesse,” she yelled and slammed the bathroom door.

It didn’t improve her mood to find the stack of brand-new clothes neatly folded, tags still on, waiting for her. She wouldn’t have minded had Patsy bought them, or even Mari, but she suspected Mari wouldn’t have thought of it and Patsy was in the hospital. No, this was from Lily. All the sizes were correct and there was just about everything she would need.

She took a deep calming breath and stepped under the water, turning her face up to let the hot stream run over her. She couldn’t blame Jess for asking her to try to help him walk, as much as she wanted to. He would never have been a SEAL or joined the GhostWalkers if he didn’t have a strong need for action and risk. He had to be intensely patriotic and he desperately needed the use of his legs to get back into action.

As she shampooed her hair she thought about patriotism. She detested everything about Whitney and tended to want to believe the monster had no good qualities, but he was a brilliant researcher and his training methods did bring results. She was afraid of the dark, yet she could move through a house unerringly to find her target in complete darkness. Her natural personality was to be emotional, yet she could be tortured and not cry out. She wasn’t good at pain, but she’d learned to accept it. And why did Whitney fool himself into believing that the end results justified the means? Patriotism.

Whitney was a patriot. She washed the soap from her hair and added conditioner. The GhostWalkers were all patriots. “I’m not.” She said it aloud. Said it defiantly. She wasn’t killing because some bastard high up in the government decided someone else needed to die. What was wrong with everyone? How could they trust an order that came down from someone they didn’t even know? Someone who could care less about them. Someone who maybe even had their own agenda, or was as loony as Whitney. It made no sense to her.

She dried off, repeating to herself that she was not going to let Jess persuade her. It was the height of stupidity. But with a sinking heart she knew if Jesse said just the right thing, looked at her a certain way, she’d give in-because she loved him. And love seemed to make her do really stupid things.

She dressed carefully, hoping to provide herself with a little armor, and went back down to join him. Jess always took her breath away with how handsome he was. She’d seen him once standing and he’d been an imposing sight. She felt safer with him in a wheelchair. Was that the reason she wanted to say no? Was it more than her fear of harming him? She hoped not. She hoped she wasn’t that petty, but for the first time in her life she’d been happy. Jess standing, walking, working as a GhostWalker would change everything.

She crossed the room to avoid getting too close to him. She perched on the countertop and folded her arms, waiting for him to speak first.

“You have to be open-minded, Saber.”

He even smelled good. Her heart ached looking at him, drinking him in. It would all change. Didn’t he realize that? She shrugged. “I’m trying to be, but you have to be open-minded too, Jesse. There are a million reasons not to try this. One misstep and instead of regenerating a nerve, I could give you cancer.”

“Before we get into all the reasons we shouldn’t try it, angel face, just tell me what you remember of the report.”

Saber’s blue eyes glittered at him. “I think you’re crazy to even consider doing anything Whitney advises.”

“Whitney may be insane, but he’s still a genius. If he thinks he has a solution to making the bionics work without a power pack, I’d like to hear it.” He kept his voice calm and even.

“He has a solution for a lot of things, Jesse, and none of them are acceptable in a civilized world.”

He refrained from arguing. She’d stall as long as he let her. “Just give me the information.”

“Fine.”

She shrugged, but he noticed she twisted her fingers together and held them tightly against her middle as if her stomach was churning in protest. He wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her, but he stayed still, knowing she had to come to terms with the idea of using her talent on him by herself.