Predatory Game

  "You understand why I can't stay in this house, don't you, Jess?" Lily said. "I can't take the risk that he could get his hands on my baby."

  "Of course you and the baby need to be safe, Lily. You've done more than your duty by the GhostWalkers and we're all grateful to you."

  "We have to find a way to stop him. I thought it was just the girls in the laboratory where I was. But he has them scattered all over."

  "That would make sense. If one group was found--or destroyed--he'd have more to work with."

  She rubbed her head as if it ached. "I can't find them all. I don't even know how many I'm searching for." She indicated the file on his desk. "Have you read it?"

  "I haven't had time yet," Jess said. "Did he use pheromones on us?"

  Lily sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry. You'll always be physically attracted to her, Jess, but that doesn't mean you won't ever fall in love with someone else."

  "I'm in love with her."

  Lily shook her head and leaned forward to stare into the screen. "You're in love with the image she's presenting. Look at her childhood, Jess. She's been regimented, trained, disciplined. She's an assassin. Born and bred for it."

  "No, she wasn't born for it, or bred for it," Jess snapped. "She was taken as a child, essentially kidnapped, held prisoner, and subjected to torture. She learned to be what she is in order to survive, Lily. There's a difference. And if you don't know that difference..."

  A male head leaned into the screen. "That's enough," Captain Ryland Miller interrupted. "She used a wrong turn of phrase, don't read anything into it that wasn't meant."

  Jess swallowed his anger. Yeah, Lily misspoke, and Jess's temper was notorious. He had to keep it under control. It was just that the photographs were so heartbreaking. Whitney had documented the journey of a child into an assassin and he'd done it with obvious pride. If ever there was a man who needed killing, Peter Whitney was that man.

  As if reading his mind, Lily spoke again. "You understand he could never have an operation of this magnitude--even with all of his money and the contacts and loyalties he's built up--if he didn't have sanction and a lot of help. He isn't doing all this himself. There are too many projects. He may conceive the ideas, but others are taking over the experiments and carrying them out."

  Jess pushed back in his chair, this time using both hands to rake through his hair. He needed to see Saber, to touch her, to know that she was all right. He felt bruised and battered after viewing a small part of her childhood. He had been raised in a loving family, with wonderful parents and a sister who adored him. He couldn't imagine what Saber's childhood had been like.

  "What else do you have for me, Lily?"

  "You aren't going to like it."

  "I don't doubt that." He hadn't liked anything so far. Yeah, Whitney had help and whoever he had was trying to send the GhostWalkers on suicide missions. It was Jess's job to find the leak in the chain of command and plug it up.

  "He was there. When we operated on your legs, he was there."

  Jess felt his heart jump in his chest. The idea of Whitney walking into the hospital and observing his operation with security everywhere was just plain frightening. Lily had been there and Ryland always, always provided her with a guard.

  "Are you certain?"

  "I was able to hack into your file, and he has all the notes of his observations and conclusions there. He thought Eric and I did a brilliant job. He does say that while you work very hard at physical recovery, you're neglecting the one thing that will make the bionics work and neither Eric nor I have managed to think of it. He wasn't happy with either of us. He thinks we're too focused on other things, me with the baby and Eric trying to play doctor to GhostWalkers."

  "What should you have told me?" Because the truth was, Peter Whitney was a brilliant man, and if they were missing something with the bionics, he'd know it.

  "He mentioned your psychic abilities. You're using physical capabilities to heal, but not mental. He notes that you should be doing exercises and imagery to form the neural pathways to map out the way from your brain to your legs."

  "I've been using visualization. You were the one who told me how to work on it. Whitney is full of crap."

  For the first time, Lily sent him a faint smile. "He says you're a strong psychic and your brain is very developed, enough that you should be able to form the pathways quickly using visualization through that medium. And I agree with him. You're using the normal part of your brain as well as physical therapy and we're leaving out a vital part of what could springboard you to faster health. Also"--she hesitated and glanced at her husband--"he thought we should have used electrical current to stimulate the cells."

  "I'm not certain I like the speculation in your voice, Lily."

  Jess reached out and picked up the file on Saber, flipping through the photographs of her life. She looked so young, so innocent and vulnerable. It made no sense that she hadn't touched Whitney's protective streak. How could he look at her and not want to take care of her when she'd been such a beautiful child?

  "Jess," Lily said. "He may be a monster, but we should consider his medical opinion on this."

  "You want to zap me to see whether or not my nerves respond?"

  "Well, electrical stimulation did in fact produce results in lizards who don't normally regenerate a tail."

  "Oh, for God's sake, Lily," Jess said.

  Several of the photographs slipped out of the folder onto the floor, sliding just out of easy reach. Jess sighed and bent down to pick them up. Saber's hand was there first. It was the photo of her with a small chocolate dog--before and after she'd touched it.

  CHAPTER 11

  Saber sucked in her breath as she stared down at the photograph in her hands. A strange roaring thundered in her ears. Her heart slammed hard in her chest. There was no stopping the surge of abject humiliation. There she was at eight. Even then there were shadows in her eyes. She could see them. In the series of photographs she was smiling, playing with the dog. By the end she was crying and the dog lay in her lap, lifeless. She still woke up with her heart beating too hard and tears flooding her throat and burning her eyes at the memory of that horrible moment when she realized she had taken that life. She had killed with her touch.

  For a moment she couldn't think--or breathe. The roaring in her ears increased until her eardrums ached. He had exposed the killer in her. Murderess. Assassin. Evil. She had the touch of death. Jess Calhoun, the only person in her life she had ever truly loved, saw her for what she was.

  Jess drew emotions like a magnet and hers were overwhelming. She felt so vulnerable, so ashamed, so disgusting--as if she had no right to be walking on the same earth with him. With anybody. She despised what she could do, what she had done, and for him to see it--to know it--was beyond her ability to cope.

  She was vaguely aware of Jess's telepathic touch trying to calm her, to reassure her. She'd been a child. Whitney was the monster, not her. Whitney had forced obedience and he alone was responsible for any deaths.

  Saber took two steps back. She wanted to run, but she was frozen. Even her mind seemed frozen. She lifted her gaze to Jess's. She expected loathing. Fear maybe. But not pity. And that made her angry. More than angry. Enraged at the betrayal. "Damn you. You just couldn't leave this alone, could you?"

  Jess heard the mixture of rage and shame in her voice. Her gaze flicked to the monitor behind him and he shut it off, keeping whatever had to be said between the two of them.

  "Saber, you know I had to investigate you." He struggled to keep emotion--both his and hers--at bay. She looked as if she might shatter into a million pieces.

  "I hope you've discovered whatever you felt you needed to know." Her chest was so tight it threatened to implode. Her hand trembled and she tossed the photograph onto the floor in front of his chair. "Everyone's out of the house." She struggled to keep her voice calm and even. "But you've got a couple of your friends watching out for you outside so you'll be just fine if you have an enemy n
earby. I'm taking off. I can't stay here." And she couldn't--not with him knowing what she was.

  "Saber, stop." He kept his voice low. No challenge, no threat. He shifted his body in his chair, just a slight movement as if easing his position. "This had to come out. You can't hide from it."

  She lifted her chin. "I wasn't hiding from it. I lived it." She held up her palm, fingers spread wide. "What did you want me to say, Jesse? I kill with a touch of my hand? That when I was a child, I was forced to kill animals? That he tried to make me kill children?"

  He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "Did he go that far?"

  "He forced me to experiment. If I didn't touch them, he would do something awful to them. I learned to be careful fast, and maybe that was the entire point, but I could have just as easily made mistakes, as I did with the dogs. I couldn't always stay in control." She closed her eyes briefly and then glared at him. "I didn't want anyone to know. I had the right to keep it to myself."

  "He's never going to give you up."

  "You think I don't know that? Do you think I don't know the minute any government gets hold of that file that they'll come after me too? I'm not stupid, Jesse, I'm just not willing to kill anymore." Not for Whitney. Not for the government. She had almost killed his ex-girlfriend. How would he feel about that?

  "You can't run for the rest of your life."

  A small humorless smile twisted her mouth. "That's exactly what I can do."

  "I want you to stay with me."

  Her eyes flashed at him. Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. "You've made that impossible. Whoever was on the other end of that connection knows about me. You shared the information. You sent my prints to them and asked questions, raised flags. You knew I was on the run but you did it anyway."

  He winced at the stark accusation in her voice. "Saber, you know damned well everything I do is classified. I'd be criminally negligent if I didn't investigate a woman with no past who lived in my home."

  "I've lived here nearly a year, Jesse. Why now? Why all of a sudden?"

  "I didn't push it before because I thought you were a woman on the run from a husband who hurt you. But you spoke telepathically and I had no choice. Whitney has people everywhere. He's so connected he can place anyone just about anywhere he wants--including the White House. I couldn't take the chance that you might be working against us."

  "You know what? It doesn't matter." She had to get out before she began to cry. Once she started, she'd never be able to stop. Jess had represented hope. Home. Love. A chance. It was all gone in one single moment.

  She backed out of the room, unable to bear looking at those photographs. Unable to bear that he had allowed someone else to see them. Unable to bear that they even existed in the first place.

  "Of course it matters." Jess followed her, tossing the file aside and pushing hard on the wheels of his chair to glide across the floor and keep pace with her. "We protect our own, Saber. No one else is going to have access to that file. There may even be a way to destroy Whitney's data from his computer."

  She sent him one smoldering look over her shoulder. "He's backed it up and I can guarantee your friend has as well. They're going to want to study me, Jess. They'll want to figure out how I do it and if it can be duplicated. I lived in hell and I'm not going back. Not for you and not for anyone else."

  She was moving faster, heading for the back of the house. She wasn't going to take her things. If he let her leave, if he didn't stop her, she would vanish into thin air.

  "Saber, don't do this."

  "You gave me no choice." She took off running, cutting through the exercise room toward the back veranda.

  He had one chance to stop her. She could outrun him in the wheelchair, but not if he used his legs. It was now or never, the most important moment in his life. He forced his body to his feet, his legs shaky, but he was determined. She glanced over her shoulder and her face went white. She skidded to a halt as he took a tentative step, then a second one. He went crashing to the floor, sprawling full length, his body hitting hard.

  Jess cursed, fury edging his vision black as he sat up, smashing his fist into his useless legs. Across the room, Saber gasped and hurried back toward him. Then she slowed and stopped again, shaking her head.

  "Damn it, Saber."

  He saw it on her face. She was going to leave him on the ground. She was really leaving. She spun away from him and started back across the room toward the door.

  With every bit of determination in him, Jess pushed himself up, forcing his useless legs to work. He drew the map in his head exactly as his doctors had taught him and sent command after command to the nerves and muscles encasing his bionics. They would work. Work, damn you. I'm not losing her. He felt a burst of pinpricks up and down his legs, sparks burning holes through tissue. There was no tentative step this time. He ran after her.

  Saber caught at the doorknob to yank open the door. It was torn from her hands and slammed shut, power swelling the room. The window slammed closed. She hadn't known he could do that, move objects without touching them. What did she really know about him? She glanced over her shoulder and saw him coming. And then it registered. Jesse was on his feet.

  He was big. Bigger than she'd realized. And strong. She knew his strength. He worked out daily and lifted his body weight over and over with his arms. She never thought she'd see him on his feet, and he was catching up fast, his longer strides eating up the distance between them. His gaze locked on her, fire in his eyes, a fury she'd never seen before, and there was ruthless determination on his face.

  The shock of seeing him on his feet stole her breath. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  You can walk. You miserable son of a bitch, you've been sitting in that chair the entire time making a fool of me and you could walk.

  She could barely think with the betrayal. Sheer rage burst through her veins, spread through her like a wildfire. "You rotten bastard. You're a worthless, miserable, manipulating liar, no better than Whitney."

  Before she could say anything else, Saber's feet were swept out from under her, dropping her ruthlessly to the thick mat. Jess caught her before she landed and rolled so he took the brunt of the landing himself. She found herself on top of him, her body against his, her face inches from his. His arms closed tightly around her, holding her in place.

  "Stop struggling, damn it. You're angry and hurt and you feel betrayed. Maybe you even have a right to what you're feeling."

  "Maybe?!"

  "Yes, maybe, damn it. Put yourself in my shoes. What would you have done differently?"

  "Well..." She broke off then tried again. "I wouldn't have betrayed you." She pushed at him again. "And you're holding me against my will. Get off and let me out of here."

  "Listen to me, Saber. If, after we talk, you still want to leave, then I'll abide by your decision, but not like this, Saber. At least give me a chance to explain."

  "Aren't you afraid?" she hissed, furious that she couldn't break his grip.

  "Of what? You? You'd never hurt me, Saber, not in a million years."

  "Don't be so certain."

  "I'm absolutely certain. Do I look afraid?"

  "You look like a liar. You pretended to be in that chair when all this time you could walk. And you pretended to care about me when all this time you were betraying me, selling me out to your friends."

  "You know better than that." His thigh hooked over both her legs, effectively stilling her struggles. "Stop. You aren't going anywhere until we talk."

  "I don't want to talk to you."

  He rolled, pinning her beneath his much larger body, and then caught her wrists together so he could use his other hand to force her to look at him. "Well, you have to talk to me, Saber."

  For a few moments her gaze warred with his, her body tense.

  "Winter," he tried out her real name.

  Her head snapped up, eyes smoldering. "What did you call me?"

  He took a firmer grip on her. His chair was in the ot
her room and if she got away, she was gone and he'd never see her again, because after that one burst of strength, he had no more feeling--none at all--in his legs. They lay heavy and useless on the floor. "I thought you might like to be called by your given name."

  "Don't call me that. I hate that name. He gave it to me and I despise everything it stands for."

  "Good. Because I like Saber much better. It suits you." He would always think of her as Saber.

  "I'm never going back there, Jesse. Never. I'll do whatever it takes to keep out of his hands."

  "No way are you going back." He locked his gaze with hers. "I'll protect you, I swear I will, Saber."

  "You can't stop him, Jesse, no one can."

  "Maybe not as individuals, but as a group, the GhostWalkers are pretty good at defending their own. And you're one of us."

  She gave a small snort of utter derision. "Who in the hell is ever going to accept me? You know that's not true."

  He went very still as the realization hit him. All the anger, all the fury, as rational as it had been, covered the one thing that she feared most. Saber thought of herself as an unlovable monster. Someone beyond redemption. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, but he didn't dare--not yet.

  He leaned close to her. "Baby, listen to me. If you don't believe anything else, believe this is the place and I'm the man who can accept you--who wants you."

  "Let me up, Jesse," she said, trying to hold on to her anger when she felt it slipping away. She was tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of being scared. Most of all, she was tired of loathing herself. "Although this is a waste of time on so many levels."

  The warmth of his body was beginning to creep into the arctic cold of hers, melting the ice around her heart. The caress in his voice, the look of love in his eyes, sent heat curling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to think about how much she loved him, or how cute his smile was. Or how hot his body was. She wanted to hate him. No, she didn't want to feel anything at all. "Do you really think anyone is going to accept me into their lives? Your team? Your family? They won't know what I am."