Don' worry, Pepper, I've survived a lot worse. It hurts like a son of a bitch, but the blade didn' hit anythin' I can' live without.
The burning is making me feel sick. Really sick.
She felt him take a breath. Felt knowledge pour into his mind, but before she could grasp what happened, he slipped away from her.
Wyatt. She waited. The silence was deafening. Wyatt, answer me.
She couldn't vomit there in the air duct. She just couldn't. She'd been very lucky that she wasn't claustrophobic or she never would have tried to get into the cells that way. Another fan was looming up in front of her, the blades spinning wildly. She was tired from pushing herself forward in such a cramped space. Every bone in her body ached and her skin felt as if it had been flayed right off in several areas, scraped from the tight fit.
Get to our children for me. Get them out of there. Make certain Trap is safe because he doesn' seem to have the fear gene and tha's necessary to keep him alive.
Everything in her stilled. Something was very wrong with Wyatt. She'd have to trust his team members. He was counting on her to get to the children and Trap.
I'll get them, Wyatt, but you be alive when I get out of here.
She took a breath and studied the blades of the fan as they spun around. It was a matter of speed and timing. Speed was extremely difficult when she was so cramped.
She hadn't explained what it was like to Wyatt or the others. She couldn't crawl like they all imagined she was able to do. She actually pictured herself in the belly of an anaconda, being squeezed from all sides as it tried to devour her as she moved through the narrow air duct.
She had to let go of Wyatt completely if she was going to get through the last fan to get to the children. She lay very still, gathering her strength, counting her own heartbeats and focusing on the spinning blades. She needed to know the exact revolutions per second in order to pause them just enough to get her through.
She wasn't as adept at using her mind to control inanimate objects. She could do it only for seconds and it always gave her a tremendous headache. Right now, after making her way through several of the fans, her head felt as if it might explode. It was no wonder Braden thought she was such a reject. Her mind and heart wouldn't allow her to seduce men and then assassinate them and she couldn't control objects without bringing on a migraine. Great soldier she turned out to be.
Within a few moments, her body was tuned to the rhythm of the blades. She gathered herself, pulling every muscle back, coiling like the snake she was supposed to be. Her mind reached out and took command of the cold steel. At once, she ruthlessly put the brakes on, even as she propelled herself forward, using the blurring speed of the cheetah and the slithering motion of the snake in combination.
She didn't hesitate or think about the possibility of being slashed to pieces by the sharp blades. That way was disaster. She shot forward, zipping between the blades, dragging her legs out of the way just as her mind refused to retain command of the fan. She lay still, her air coming in ragged gasps, like it did each time she stopped the fan. The way back with two babies was going to be even harder.
Wyatt had wanted to open the cells from the outside, using vibration, but it was too dangerous, the entire team had agreed on that. If he shook the building too hard, it could come down on them. And the concrete was so thick he would have had to use a fairly hard blast. Still... She closed her eyes for a moment, refusing to think about the journey back.
No one had really told her how Trap intended to get into the cells. Maybe she'd be lucky and they could go out the way he'd come in. Pepper wiggled close to the vent and peered down into the holding area. There were three cells and a small space for the guards to stand. The doors to two of the cells were open and a body lay in each of the cells. The babies lay curled up in Trap's arms where he sat with his back against the wall. It was the last thing she expected.
He smiled at her as she pushed open the small vent. "It's about time you got here. We were all just about to take a nap, weren't we?" He nuzzled the tops of the babies' heads. "Getting nice and warm so they could move faster when they go through the vent with you."
The two little girls both lifted their heads, eyes lighting up, huge smiles showing their tiny little teeth. She dropped into the room, somersaulting headfirst, to land on her feet just to one side of Trap. He seemed to be taking up most of the room, all sprawled out. She held out her arms and both babies leapt into them.
She kissed them both repeatedly and they kissed her back over and over. Little Thym blew bubbles against her neck and then laughed with delight. Cannelle attached herself like a clinging monkey, not wanting a separation again.
"Thanks, Trap. It was thoughtful of you to warm them up." She looked around her. "Did you come in through the elevator?"
He shook his head. "Most likely there are guards in place at the elevator doors. I'll go if I have to, but I'm hoping this woman can get through the vent like you did."
"You're really going to try to get her out?" Pepper frowned. "How are you going to get to her?"
"I'll make it. You just get these babies out of here." He stood up, taking up even more space. "You look pale."
"Stopping the fans is hard for me. I don't usually manipulate nonhuman objects." She glanced at the children and then up to his face. "Wyatt was stabbed. I don't know how bad, he won't say, but it felt bad."
"Draden's with him, right?" Trap asked calmly.
Pepper nodded. "Yes. At least I think so."
"Then he'll be fine. If Wyatt was really hurt, Draden would have raised the alarm and Malichai and Ezekiel would go running. Just stick to the plan, Pepper. Get the babies to safety."
He rubbed Thym's back. "Stay close to your mama and do whatever she tells you. That's important. Stay very quiet. You can do that to get out of here, right? There are men out there who might try to stop you if they hear you."
Thym signed with her hands to Pepper. Pepper nodded. "Yes, baby, I thought the same thing, but we were wrong. There's several men who are good and want to help because..." She broke off, her gaze jumping to Trap's face again. She took a breath. "You have a father. Most babies have two parents, a mother and father. He didn't know where you were and as soon as he found out, he and his friends helped me to rescue you."
"Did she say she thought all men were bad?"
Pepper nodded. "The techs and guards are mostly men. We don't see many women. I did, of course, because I was a soldier going through school with some, but the babies have always been isolated from everyone." She was beginning to get her nerve back. She'd gotten through the vent with Ginger. She could do the same with the other two.
Cannelle signed. Pepper interpreted. "Where will we go? We're going to take you out of here to your new home."
Cannelle signed again, her hand gestures hesitant. Pepper frowned. The baby had asked what a home was. Pepper didn't know how to explain something she'd never experienced.
"We'll discuss that when we have you safe and away from this place," she said. "I have to go first. You follow me. I'll go through the fan, but you have to wait for me to call you through. Each of us has to go through by ourselves. You'll have to move very fast. I'll show you how. Elle, you bring up the rear. Thym, you stay right behind me. Just remember you can't go until the fan is stopped completely and then you have to be very fast." She planned on reminding them over and over so there were no mistakes.
Trap frowned. "Just how dangerous is this?"
"There are fans every twenty feet or so, large industrial ones. The vent itself is very small. I can barely fit in it." Pepper showed him her arms where the skin was shaved off in spots. The tight-fitting sleeves, although thin, had still been shredded in several places, leaving her skin exposed. "The babies will fit through, but each section is blocked by a fan. I have to stop the blades from rotating long enough to get through and I'm not the best at controlling them." She rubbed her temples. "I can do it, but it's not easy."
"And it comes with
a price," Trap said. "If you think it's too dangerous, Pepper, we can get the others to take the second elevators. It won't be pretty, but it can be done."
"I got Ginger through. I'll get both of the babies through," Pepper said, infusing confidence into her voice. She jumped up and caught the edge of the vent, drawing herself up. "Put them in after me and good luck."
Trap picked up the two babies and held them close. They were still shivering. The cell was too cold for their systems. He tried to warm them as he waited for Pepper to slowly be swallowed up inside the duct. Cannelle put her arms around his neck and held on while he lifted Thym into the narrow opening. When she had crawled all the way inside, he put little Cannelle in after her.
"Stay close, but don't get near that fan until Pepper tells you," he cautioned.
Cannelle turned her head and looked back at him over her shoulder. He saw a mop of wavy dark hair and large expressive eyes and then she was gone, crawling after her sister and mother.
Trap took a deep breath and made his way to the wall in the center of the small room. This wall was the only wall shared by the cells on the other side of it. The only way to get into that side was through the second elevator. He hoped the cells on the other side were a mirror image of the one he was standing in. He didn't want to come out inside the cell with an unknown woman already condemned to death, especially one declared too dangerous to live.
He put his hands on the concrete and absorbed the feel and structure of it. This time it was a little easier, as he already was connected to the properties in the mixture. He waited, breathing deep, forcing his rebelling mind under control. No GhostWalker left another behind, and he wouldn't leave this woman, no matter what she was.
If she tried to kill him, well, that was another thing altogether, but he'd do his best to convince her he'd come to help her. He let the wrenching sick feeling overtake him as his body was torn apart, pulled in every direction. His skin felt as if it was removed, leaving his insides spilling out everywhere.
Cold set in. Darkness. He was utterly alone. There was no human sound, no human feeling, only the bitter cold and the endless darkness. He came out on the other side, staggering, going to his knees and then rolling onto his butt, his back against the wall, pressing both hands to his gut to keep his insides from spilling out.
For a moment he was so disoriented, he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Had he arrived that way in the babies' cell, the soldiers would have easily killed him. He tried desperately to drag air into his lungs and calm his quivering gut. When he lifted his head, his neck felt as if it had been wrenched around two or three times.
"Etes-vous tous droit? Se rapprocher un peu plus, je pourrais peut-etre vous aider." The question was asked in a voice that was as sultry as any Louisiana night. Silk and satin. Candlelight.
He looked up, blinking to bring her into focus. His breath left his lungs all over again. She was small, the way Pepper was small. They easily could have been related. She had a cloud of dark hair, as black as a raven's wing, but for the brilliant red streak straight down the middle. On anyone else it might have looked terrible, but on her, it seemed as natural as her huge green eyes.
"Are you all right? Come a little closer, perhaps I can aid you," she repeated in English.
Said the spider to the fly, he reminded himself. How the hell could a woman look every bit the seductive temptress and as innocent as all get-out at the same time? Especially one so young.
He stayed where he was. "Pepper told us about you. She got the babies out and we've come to get you out as well."
Long dark lashes drifted down, veiling the expression in her eyes for a brief moment. "Why would you want to help me?"
"We're like you. Enhanced. We stick together," he added lamely. He couldn't think with his brain still rattling around in his skull, banging away at the sides until he was afraid his head would explode.
"How did you get in here?"
Her voice alone gave him the sensation of fingers trailing down his skin. "I told you, we're like you. We all have different skills. I can get through walls, although this concrete was thicker than I realized and I already went through a wall once. It's hard on the body." And clearly just as hard on his brain.
He couldn't stop staring at her. She was shapely, an hourglass figure, perfectly proportioned for one so petite. Her small fingers stroked the bars of the cell with a mesmerizing slide. There was a pull about her, a lure, and he was afraid most men would succumb. He was a little worried that he knew just what she was.
"I'm Trap Dawkins. I came here to help Wyatt, a friend of mine, get his kids out of this place. Pepper said there was another woman here, so we figured we might as well break you out as well while we were at it."
"I appreciate that. I'm Cayenne, and I don't have a last name. At least I was never called anything but Cayenne."
She had an accent - a French one, but he knew her training would have included proper accents for every language taught to her. She used her looks and her voice as a temptation. Still... There was more, something else. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was, but it was potent.
He didn't move, but continued to look at her. "I haven't made up my mind yet whether or not I take the chance and get close enough to that cell to open the locks. You're a black widow, aren't you?"
She smiled at him. Her teeth were small and very white. Her smile was beautiful. Inviting. "Some call me that," she admitted, as if amused by the accusation.
The smile in her voice only added to the sensation of dainty fingers sliding over his body. Her lips parted in invitation. "Come here. A little closer." She beckoned to him with her finger, a seductive dare in her tone.
He stared her down while his brain tried to work out the puzzle of who and what she was. How she worked. What danger she represented. He was a soldier, but more, he was analytical. He didn't ever think with his emotions. Her voice, her enticement played to a man's instincts and emotions. He felt it, the dangerous, magnetic draw, but his brain shielded him from her temptation.
When he didn't respond, her lashes swept down and then up. Her full, curved lips pursed in an alluring pout. "Can you open the cell? Do you have keys?"
"I can't bring anything metal through the wall." He stuck as close to the truth as possible. He was getting his strength back, his insides settling slowly.
Trap couldn't blame her for using her wiles on him, she was probably terrified. She had to know those in charge were going to kill her, and then he came along and as far as she was concerned, he was probably another experiment she was being subjected to. She was fighting for her life, trying to figure him out the same way he was trying to figure her.
"How did Whitney find you?" he asked, needing a few more minutes to decide to chance opening her cell.
"So you do know Peter Whitney." She couldn't disguise the malevolence in her voice or the sudden flash of hatred and defiance in her eyes.
"Actually, I've never met Whitney while I was awake," Trap said. "I believe when I was put under on an operating table, he came in and did the surgery, a bit more than I ever expected. But I wouldn't know him if I met him on the street."
"I can hear your admiration for him in your voice." She gripped the bars on the cell so hard her knuckles turned white.
"If I have admiration for him, and I don't believe I do, it would be for a great mind," Trap explained, shrugging. "A mind that has clearly gone insane. No one is stopping him. No one is putting the brakes on him. He's got too many friends in high places and too much money. We've tried tracking him, but he moves all the time and there's no way to pinpoint a location where we can get there before him and then kill him." He said it matter-of-factly - the hope of all GhostWalkers. He hoped she could hear the sincerity in his voice.
Her green gaze moved over his face as if trying to see behind his skin to his bare bones. "I don't know whether or not to trust you."
Her eyes were blazing green. An astonishing green. Two glittering emeralds as c
ool as a forest and as bright as a sun. He wasn't going to allow those eyes or those long black lashes to influence him.
"We're both in the same boat," he admitted. "I'm wondering the same thing. I don't want to let a serial killer loose on the world. Are you like him? Like Whitney?"
Cayenne's breath hissed out in a long slow admission of anger. Her green eyes went vibrant and more beautiful than ever. "I can kill, yes, but so can you. I was made into what I am, but I never let that man program me to be his assassin. Why do you think I'm in this cell on death row? He's afraid of me. Why isn't he afraid of you?"
He found himself wanting to smile. He was in a rather desperate situation, trapped in a small holding area, with a woman condemned to death who easily could be a true serial killer, and he wasn't certain he could even get himself out of the cell, let alone her. He was too weak to fight more soldiers - especially ones enhanced - at least not without sustaining injuries. He calculated his odds and they weren't especially good.
"Well, woman, we have to make a decision here. I'm going to open that cell. Do you have any idea how you'll get out of this holding area once you're out of the cell? Because you're small enough to fit inside the air duct. That's how Pepper is getting the children out, but she said every so many feet there's a fan with spinning blades. She stops the blades just long enough to get through, using mind control. Are you able to do that? Can you control an object?"
She shrugged, her gaze never leaving his, and her shrug was no answer.
"You can't go through the wall. We might go in the elevator, but I can guarantee there are soldiers waiting there. Up on the third floor, where the laboratory is, shots were fired, so that may have alerted the soldiers there's trouble if those shots were heard. Even if they didn't hear them, there are soldiers stationed on every floor with orders not to abandon their posts under any circumstances and that means trouble. They'll be waiting for you, Pepper, the babies or one of us."
"Get me out of here. I can take care of my own escape."
He stepped close to the cell, to the very narrow bars, so narrow his own fingers wouldn't fit through them. She didn't step back and he could smell the fragrance of her, an alluring blend of night fantasies and silken sheets. The tip of her tongue touched her lower lip, moisturizing it further, so that the seductive curve drew the eye.