Page 24 of Ruthless Game


  Kane must have sensed her reticence, because he reached out and took her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. The small gesture comforted her. She shrugged, trying to look casual. They thought they knew about protecting themselves from Whitney, but she'd been under the scrutiny of cameras and microphones nearly all of her life. She knew what it was like to live under a microscope. It had become obvious, at a very early age, that each of the girls Whitney was experimenting on needed to hide as many of their abilities from him as possible.

  She thought she'd have the chance to learn trust slowly--with just Kane. She hadn't counted on his family. His team, with the exception of Paul, had grown up together, and Kane trusted all of them. He expected her to do the same. Panic hovered close. She could barely breathe.

  You can do this, sweetheart. You don't have to answer questions. This is your home. There are no expectations.

  His voice caressed her. She forced her head up and looked into his eyes. She could live there. The way he looked at her--as if she was his entire world--it was a heady, potent experience, one she didn't entirely trust. But she wanted to trust him. She wanted this to work. When she made up her mind to do something, she committed 100 percent. She wasn't going to wimp out now.

  "Rose, please," Paul's voice trembled with excitement.

  "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen and--seriously--the closest thing to what I can do. I've never met anyone like me."

  She heard the loneliness--the idea that he could be a freak of nature. All of them battled with being "different." They always would. She could see how isolated Paul must have felt growing up. His father was a big man, a man who was disciplined and understood violence. Paul was just the opposite--a natural-born healer with tremendous empathy for those around him. His father probably had tried to understand him, but how could he? The boy was sensitive, and the idea of killing had to be abhorrent to him.

  In some ways, even among the GhostWalkers, Paul was still isolated. He wasn't a soldier by choice. He was far too empathetic to kill. He was a healer, a poet, a man whose very soul cried out for gentleness, yet he was surrounded by extremely violent men. She could see both Kane and Javier were protective of him, but they didn't understand him.

  "How? You have to tell me how."

  While she could do some extraordinary things, she wasn't quite as empathetic. She made a good soldier and she knew she did. Paul seemed a little lost. She looked from him to Javier and Kane. These men had accepted the boy into their world--their family. They offered him their loyalty and complete acceptance, which he obviously needed. He would give the same back to them tenfold.

  If it's easier, Rose, I can take Javier into the other room.

  She took a breath and shook her head. She suddenly found she wanted to be a part of them as well. She wanted that same acceptance. If she became one of them--like Paul had become one of them--Javier would give her the same loyalty he gave his family members. She wanted his respect and his protection, for her and for Sebastian. It was difficult to let go of her fears--she had so many--but she'd always believed in facing her fears.

  "I'm able to visualize in my head what's going on in someone's body under extreme circumstances." She chewed nervously on her lower lip, trying to find the words to describe how the talent manifested itself. "I feel heat in my fingertips first. And then my palms. Eventually my hands get so hot it feels as if they're burning."

  Paul nodded. "The nerves are raw, and the heat starts running up your arms."

  Rose's gaze jumped to him. He understood. He actually understood the manifestation. They smiled at each other. "The first time it happened, I was seven, and one of the girls, Thorn, stopped breathing. We all loved her so much. I was panic-stricken. We all were. Whitney had just left the room, and Thorn suddenly dropped to the floor. She'd been defying him, and he'd used electric shock on her. I ran to her, and my hands burned. I knew I had to . . ."

  "Touch her. Put your palms on her," Paul interrupted.

  Rose forgot everyone else in the room. She nodded, her heart pounding hard. "It was more instinct than anything else. Once I touched her, I could see her heart wasn't pumping. It had stopped. I could see it in my head."

  "And in response, you felt the electrical current needed to jump-start her," Paul said, "running through your own body. It's as if our bodies provide what's missing from those hurt or injured in some way. I always refer to it as psychic healing."

  "How does it work?"

  "I don't know. I've tried studying what happens to me when I run across someone damaged. Each response is different. I see the patient in colors. Is it like that for you?"

  She shook her head. "Not really. When I lay my palms on their skin, I see inside their bodies, not through my eyes but in my head, as if skin to skin, I absorb them into me."

  Kane's fingers tightened around her, startling her, drawing her attention. She looked at him, almost afraid of what she'd see. Seeing inside someone was a strange, freaky experience. Having her own body react to theirs was almost an intimacy, a bonding between the two bodies, hers providing whatever the other needed. She didn't tell anyone if she could help it and she never elaborated on what happened--she didn't want to think about what happened. It was frightening and exhilarating. It was also very, very painful.

  Her eyes met Kane's. There was nothing but awe. Respect. Love. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she swore her knees went weak. He had a way of looking at her. Hungry predator. Intense desire. Amazing, absolute devotion. All the emotions were there for her, and he didn't try to hide them. It was always a little difficult for her to believe he could feel those things for her, but she was trying.

  "You saved my life." Kane brought her hand up to his mouth. "Didn't you?"

  She shook her head. "I gave you a chance. I'm not adept at healing. I can only do it in a crisis. I managed to repair the severed artery, but I wasn't certain it would hold, so I actually held it together until we got to the airfield. They'd set up for surgery right there. The doctor who did the surgery fixed everything else as well. The bullet ricocheted around in there and did a lot of damage. You were in surgery over three hours, and they nearly lost you twice, Kane."

  "He would have died in the helicopter if it wasn't for you," Javier said. "We're all very grateful to you."

  Rose was so startled, she actually took a step back. Javier seemed to disappear and then just emerge from the wall itself. She put a hand to her throat, shocked at the way he was looking at her as well. She had gone from potential enemy to reserved acceptance. She was grateful she was on his good side.

  "I don't know what happens," she admitted. "My body takes over my brain and just acts. I barely remember what I did."

  "You cut him open and put your hand inside of him," Javier said.

  She shivered, remembering his reaction. Javier had placed a knife to her throat. The gesture had seemed casual but was anything but. She'd kept working, knowing she didn't have much time. She'd found the severed artery and repaired it within minutes, shouting for Mack to give Kane her blood immediately.

  It had all been hazy from the moment she'd pulled Kane into the helicopter, "saw" the severed artery, and cut him open. Mack hadn't hesitated, starting the transfusion immediately, even as Gideon gave him plasma. She'd been so frightened, wanting to grab Sebastian and leap from the helicopter, taking her chances with the unknown rather than with these grim-faced strangers without Kane.

  Oddly, it had been Javier who helped her. He held her stable through the flight, using his own body to prop her up. He'd asked one of the others to slip makeshift pillows under her arms to help keep them up and then had her covered with a warm blanket as she crouched over Kane. Her blood flowed into Kane's body in a desperate attempt to keep him from bleeding to death, while her fingers, deep inside his body, had reinforced her repair of the artery. She would never forget that incredible helicopter ride as she tried to breathe for Kane, willing him to live with every ounce of strength she possessed.


  "Whitney never found out about you?" Kane asked.

  She shook her head. "I told you, even as children we knew we had to hide our gifts from him. He might help us develop them, but had he known about me, he would have put the other girls in jeopardy just to see me use it. He can be very cruel. He doesn't look at it that way. Everything he does, for him, is justified in the advancement of science."

  "That's why you have such a difficult time with Eric," Kane guessed.

  Rose nodded. "His need to learn can outweigh his moral scruples. Once a man believes that an individual doesn't count for the good of the masses, he crosses a line and is capable, in the name of science, of anything. Whitney crossed that line a long time ago. He believes himself far above everyone else in intellect. He has powerful friends who aid him. That only feeds his ego and belief that he's above the rest of humanity. Laws don't apply to him."

  "Can you see the fantastic job Dr. Lambert did?" Paul asked, indicating Kane.

  She shook her head. "It never happens unless there's a crisis. That's why I can't be certain Sebastian is completely healthy. I know he's not in immediate danger, but I can't examine him."

  "Do any of the other women have this talent?" Paul asked.

  "We stopped sharing information fairly early on because he recorded our conversations. Most of us became very secretive. Whitney believed we each had one strong talent and maybe another to a far lesser degree. It wasn't until he began experimenting on adults that he discovered there could be more than one strong psychic talent in one individual. He isolated us after that, but we'd learned to be vigilant by that time."

  Kane tugged at her hand, a little disconcerted to have Paul staring at his insides. "Come take a look at the baby, Paul."

  "I've never really examined an infant," Paul hedged. "I'm not certain I'm really qualified to do this."

  "You're what we have," Kane said. "That makes you qualified. Take a look at him." He stepped back to allow Paul into the bedroom where the small crib was.

  Rose hovered close as Paul approached the crib. Kane indicated for Javier to follow him out of the room. He wanted to know exactly what threats his family faced. Rose wouldn't leave Sebastian's side while Paul was with him, giving him the opportunity to assess the risks.

  "Where's Mack?" he demanded.

  "Didn't Paul just tell you to rest?" Javier asked, one eyebrow raised.

  "The hell with that. What's going on, Javier? Half the team is missing, and don't tell me they're out on a mission somewhere."

  Javier shrugged and swaggered into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Mack will be here in a few minutes. He wasn't that far behind us. You got yourself a good woman. She admits she learned to be secretive, yet she's obviously disclosing information to us in an effort to show good faith. That takes a great deal of courage."

  Kane glanced up at the admiration in Javier's voice. Javier rarely showed inner thoughts or allowed real emotion to surface.

  "You should see her in action," Kane said, "No hesitation, Javier. None. She gets the job done."

  "I can see that in her. I put a knife to her throat, Kane. When she was cutting you open on the helicopter. One moment we've pulled you aboard, blood all over the place, and the next she's on her knees, slicing into your belly. It scared the holy hell out of me. I thought she was hacking you up, she was that fast. I put my blade against her neck, tight enough to cut the skin, and she never so much as flinched. I swear she didn't even bat an eyelash. She just kept working fast. Your blood was all over her, and she was shouting orders to all of us. In the end we just did what she said. She's one cool customer."

  "I should beat you to a bloody pulp for threatening her," Kane said, "but it wouldn't do a bit of good. You'd do the same thing again."

  "I've never seen anything like that, Kane," Javier answered seriously, leaning back against the sink, coffee mug in hand. "Seriously, she moved so fast, no wasted effort, cut right into you in front of us, no hesitation, not even when I threatened her. She's a very unusual woman--and dangerous."

  Kane's gaze flicked over Javier. "You admire her."

  "Damn right. She reminds me a little of Rhianna."

  Javier rarely mentioned Rhianna Bonds. She'd grown up with them on the streets of Chicago, the only other girl in their "family."

  "Does she?" Kane wasn't altogether certain he was happy Javier thought that. Although he never admitted it, Javier was obviously crazy about Rhianna in a weird, possessive kind of way. Kane didn't want Javier looking at Rose that way.

  Javier nodded. "Rhianna doesn't seem to have a fear factor, other than when it comes to me, where Rose battles fear, but they both are very dangerous."

  "And you like dangerous women."

  Javier shrugged. "They're intriguing to me. That edge you come up against. She might kiss you or stick a knife in you. You never know what you're waking up to."

  Kane burst out laughing. "Well, she did shove a gun in my gut," he admitted. "She was very serious about it too. That's when I ditched my locator."

  "Mack was pissed about that, Kane. It was just as well you nearly died, because he would have killed you himself." Javier took a slow sip of coffee, obviously savoring the blend, before scrutinizing Kane over the steaming mug. "You scared us all, bro."

  Kane heard the sincerity in Javier's voice. The man rarely showed emotion; although all of them knew he felt it deeply, he just buried it equally as deep.

  They both turned as a cursory knock on the door preceded a flashing alarm as Mack shoved the door open before the alarm had time to deactivate. Mack cursed and paused long enough to punch in the code again.

  "Damn thing. Jaimie has to speed that up," he groused. "Can't even keep up with me." His gaze ran over Kane, clearly assessing his condition. There was a shadow of worry in his eyes and few more worry lines etched into his face Kane hadn't remembered seeing. "You're finally on your feet. That woman is fucking overprotective of you." His voice was gruff, almost hoarse, both accusing and shaken at the same time.

  Kane grinned at him. "I could get used to it."

  "Well, don't. You ever scare the shit out of me like that again, and I'll put a bullet in you myself. We clear on that?"

  "Yeah, Top, I get it."

  "Good. We've got that settled. Is Paul looking after the baby?" Mack pointed to the coffeepot.

  Javier obligingly poured him a cup of coffee.

  "He's in the other room with Rose, who most likely heard the alarm and covered you with a gun. She's a little edgy like that."

  Mack threw himself into a chair and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "She'll need it. Damn cartel is a little pissed off at her, Kane."

  Kane took the blow stoically, but for a moment the blood thundered in his ears. He sank down into a chair, feeling a little weak in the knees. "It isn't enough Whitney is after her? Tell me what's going on, Mack."

  The infamous Lopez family was notorious for their bloody sieges and brutal retaliation. They'd virtually declared war on their own government, targeting policemen and their families, wiping them out, decapitating them and leaving their bodies in plain sight for all to see. They had begun going after the politicians recently, ambushing the cars carrying them, killing their military escorts, and carrying out their brutal death threats. Bombs were frequent, blowing up police stations and cars on the roadways.

  "Diego Jimenez made a deal with Whitney," Kane explained. "Whitney supplied Jimenez with guns and ammunition and probably money in order for him to fight the former president. That made Jimenez very unpopular with all of the cartels, but the Lopez family in particular. Apparently they targeted Jimenez's family, and when he found himself dying of cancer and Whitney was willing to do anything to get Rose back, he found a way, he thought, to get the cartel off his family's back."

  Kane raked his fingers through his hair and huffed out his breath, a sure sign for those who knew him that he was angry. "Rose nursed the old man through his dying days, but he sold her out to the cartel, trading her life
for his sons'. He told the cartel where she was and what she was worth to Whitney. They know her identity, and they know she was involved in the deaths of the cartel members sent to acquire her. Damn Jimenez. If he wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself."

  The sound of soft, feminine laughter whispered inside his head. He glanced up and met Rose's laughing eyes. His stomach did its famous flip, and his body stirred to attention. It took a moment to realize her laughter was for him alone and the intimacy of the moment shook him.

  She pushed herself off the wall. "It was a natural conclusion, Kane. I knew they'd blame me. They had my name and they lost at a lot of their men. They seek vengeance as a rule; it's how they keep everyone afraid of them. They have to blame someone for all those deaths, and I'm all they've got. It was a war zone out there. There's no trace of any of you. Whitney's men probably cleaned up their bodies, so what's left as an explanation? They have to find me and get their answers." She shrugged her shoulders. "You would have figured it out if you hadn't been unconscious and recovering for so long."

  "You might have told me," Mack pointed out.

  She stood still for a moment, her dark eyes searching his face. "Yes. I should have. I'm sorry for that. I knew it wasn't just going to go away, and by being with you all, it would put you in jeopardy as well. I should have said something."

  Mack nodded, accepting her apology. "Jaimie is very good at hearing threats in chatter. She monitors everything, and about three weeks ago, we realized the head of the Lopez cartel had reached out to one of the gangs affiliated with them here in the States, and your name came up."

  "And yet you didn't mention this to me."

  Mack's expression didn't change as he briefly nodded. "That's true. Perhaps I should have said something."

  Kane looked from one to the other. "Are we at war?"

  Mack flashed him a grin. "Not me." He held up his hands in surrender. "She saved your life, bro. I owe her for that. And she gave me the most amazing nephew in the world. So permanent truce. Although, you know, I expect her to marry your ass. I had Jaimie do the preliminary paperwork."

  Rose went a little pale while Mack looked wholly pleased with himself.

  Kane grinned at Rose. "Get used to it, sweetheart. He bosses all of us. I guess you'll have to marry my ass. Boss man says so."