Predatory Game Read online

  Praise for

  DEADLY GAME

  "Christine Feehan heats up the Game with this terrific deadly conspiracy."

  --Midwest Book Review

  "I loved this one and I'll bet you will too."

  --Fresh Fiction

  "The fastest-paced, most action-packed, gut-wrenching, adrenaline-driven ride I've ever experienced. I wanted to start at the beginning and read it all over again. If you crave a gripping thriller that seeps edgy sensuality from its very pores, Deadly Game is the rush you've been waiting for."

  --Romance Junkies

  "Wow!...Made me hungry for more."

  --The Best Reviews

  NIGHT GAME

  "Suspenseful...captivating."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "Packed with adventure...Not only is this a thriller, the sensual scenes rival the steaming Bayou. A perfect 10."

  --Romance Reviews Today

  "Terrific...Christine Feehan is on her A-game with her latest paranormal thriller."

  --The Best Reviews

  "The action is nonstop...and is as fast-paced as the dialogue. One of Ms. Feehan's best works."

  --Romance Junkies

  MIND GAME

  "Sultry and suspenseful...as swift-moving and sexually charged as her best vampire romances. In short, it is an electrifying read."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "Fabulous paranormal twists."

  --Midwest Book Review

  "Brilliant. The sexual energy...is electrifying. If you enjoy paranormal romances, this is a must-read."

  --Romance at Heart Magazine "In one word, Mind Game is explosive! The sexual chemistry is literally a scorcher."

  --Fallen Angel Reviews

  "Exciting, sensuous, and hard to put down...Mind Game is one you will have to read."

  --The Best Reviews

  SHADOW GAME

  "Sensational...The sultry, spine-tingling kind of read that [Feehan's] fans will adore."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "One of the best current voices in the darker paranormal romance subgenre...intense, sensual, and mesmerizing."

  --Library Journal

  "[An] erotically charged romance."

  --Booklist

  "Feehan packs such a punch...it will leave one gasping for breath...A must-read book."

  --The Best Reviews

  "A very fast-paced, action-packed thriller/love story all wrapped up into one."

  --Escape To Romance

  More praise for the novels of Christine Feehan

  "Just as I begin to think the romance genre has nowhere else to run, I get to read something that takes another giant leap down a totally unknown road. Romance, suspense, and intrigue, and the paranormal...combined to make one of the most delicious journeys I have had the pleasure of taking in a long, long time...Definitely something for everyone."

  --Romance and Friends

  "Feehan's newest is a skillful blend of supernatural thrills and romance that is sure to entice readers."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "If you are looking for something that is fun and different, pick up a copy of this book."

  --All About Romance

  "This one is a keeper...I had a hard time putting [it] down...Don't miss this book!"

  --New-Age Bookshelf

  "Vibrant characters, suspense-filled plot...and just the right touch of the supernatural...a must-read, especially on those dark rainy nights, when the wind howls its anger at the world. Kudos, Ms. Feehan, you have penned a page-turner--good to the last drop."

  --Romance Reviews Today

  "Christine Feehan is a magnificent storyteller."

  --Romantic Times

  Titles by Christine Feehan

  PREDATORY GAME

  DEADLY GAME

  CONSPIRACY GAME

  NIGHT GAME

  MIND GAME

  SHADOW GAME

  SAFE HARBOR

  DANGEROUS TIDES

  OCEANS OF FIRE

  WILD RAIN

  DARK HUNGER

  DARK POSSESSION

  DARK CELEBRATION

  DARK DEMON

  DARK SECRET

  DARK DESTINY

  DARK MELODY

  DARK SYMPHONY

  DARK GUARDIAN

  DARK LEGEND

  DARK FIRE

  DARK CHALLENGE

  DARK MAGIC

  DARK GOLD

  DARK DESIRE

  DARK PRINCE

  PREDATORY GAME

  CHRISTINE FEEHAN

  JOVE BOOKS, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi--110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  PREDATORY GAME

  A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author Copyright (c) 2008 by Christine Feehan.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 1-4295-9664-3

  JOVE(r)

  Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  JOVE is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The "J" design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  For Adam Schuette, with love

  For My Readers

  Be sure to write to Christine at christine@christine feehan.com to get a FREE exclusive screen saver and join the PRIVATE e-mail list to receive an announcement when Christine's books are released.

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  THE GHOST WALKER SYMBOL DETAILS

  THE GHOST WALKER CREED

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20r />
  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank Domini Stottsberry for her help with the tremendous amount of research necessary to make this book possible. Brian Feehan and Morey Sparks deserve much gratitude for talking rescues and action and answering endless questions! As always, Cheryl, you are incredible! Thanks to Dr. Chris Tong for his patience in trying to teach me about everything from physics to biology, and to Tyler Grinberg and Cecilia Feehan for their help in working with impossible theories. And of course, I would never get anywhere without Manda!

  The GhostWalker Symbol Details

  SIGNIFIES

  shadow

  SIGNIFIES

  protection against evil forces

  SIGNIFIES

  the Greek letter psi, which is used by parapsychology researchers to signify ESP or other psychic abilities

  SIGNIFIES

  qualities of a knight--loyalty, generosity, courage, and honor

  SIGNIFIES

  shadow knights who protect against evil forces using psychic powers, courage, and honor

  The GhostWalker Creed

  We are the GhostWalkers, we live in the shadows The sea, the earth, and the air are our domain No fallen comrade will be left behind

  We are loyalty and honor bound

  We are invisible to our enemies

  and we destroy them where we find them

  We believe in justice and we protect our country and those unable to protect themselves

  What goes unseen, unheard, and unknown

  are GhostWalkers

  There is honor in the shadows and it is us We move in complete silence whether

  in jungle or desert

  We walk among our enemy unseen and unheard Striking without sound and scatter to the winds before they have knowledge of our existence We gather information and wait with endless patience for that perfect moment to deliver swift justice We are both merciful and merciless

  We are relentless and implacable in our resolve We are the GhostWalkers and the night is ours

  PROLOGUE

  The lights from oncoming cars hurt his eyes and seemed to pierce right through his skull, stabbing at his brain until he wanted to scream. He quickly tuned the radio station until the soft, sexy voice of the Night Siren flooded the car. It was taped, but it helped. His vision tunneled, so that everything took on a dream-like quality. Buildings flashed by, cars appeared as streaks of light rather than solid matter.

  "Where are we going?"

  He jumped. For a moment he had forgotten he wasn't alone. Throwing an impatient glance at the whore seated beside him, he felt the terrible pounding in his head, which had just begun to ease, return. In the dark she looked a little like the woman he needed. If she kept her mouth shut, he could pretend. Tempted to tell her she was going to hell very soon, he forced a slight smile instead. "You're getting paid, aren't you? What difference does it make if we drive around for a little bit?"

  She leaned forward and fiddled with the radio.

  He slapped at her hand. "Don't touch anything." He had the station tuned right where he wanted it--needed it. The Night Siren's voice was drifting out over the airwaves, making his body hard and his head clear. The woman wasn't going to make it through the hour if she touched that dial again.

  He kept his eye on the car he was following. He knew what he had to do. He had a job and he was damned good at it. The whore was such a good cover, and gave him such an anticipation of the pleasure to come later. He hadn't been caught yet. Damn Whitney for his interference. The doctor had threatened to send someone else again. Stupid man didn't like his reports. Well, fuck him. The doctor thought he was so superior, so intelligent, and was worried--worried--about the situation deteriorating. What a crock of bullshit. There was no situation, nothing was deteriorating. He could handle surveillance on a GhostWalker any day of the week.

  Whitney thought his precious GhostWalkers were supersoldiers to be revered. Well, screw that. GhostWalkers were genetic mutations, aberrations, abominations, not the fucking miracles Whitney purported them to be. The entire lot of them should be wiped from the face of the earth, and he was the man to do it. They were government experiments that should have been scrapped long before they were ever let loose on the world.

  He saw himself as the guardian, the lone man standing between the mutants and the humans. He should be revered. Whitney should bow down to him, kiss his feet, thank him for his reports and his attention to detail...

  "You never told me your name. What do I call you?"

  The voice jerked him out of his reverie. He wanted to slap the little whore. To pound his fists into her face until there was nothing there but bloody pulp. To take her head between his hands and hear a satisfying crack just to shut her up, but that was for later. If she kept her mouth shut he could fantasize that she was the Night Siren.

  The Night Siren belonged to him and he'd have her soon enough. He just had to get rid of the GhostWalkers once and for all. And then she'd do everything he told her.

  "You can call me Daddy."

  The whore had the audacity to roll her eyes at him, but he resisted the urge to punish her. He had other plans for her.

  "I am a naughty girl," she said and leaned over to rub his crotch. "And you obviously like me that way."

  "Don't talk," he snapped, and sighed when she opened his jeans. Let her just go to work on him while he took care of business. It would keep her mouth and hands occupied. He could look at her skin and hair and everything would be all right. It was going to be a long night tonight, and at least he could look forward to later.

  Up ahead the car he'd been following pulled to the curb. It was a strange thing to do, but he couldn't get caught--and he couldn't lose them. He pulled over as well and waited while the whore worked on him, the rush beginning to flood his veins like a drug.

  CHAPTER 1

  Saber Wynter leaned back against the plush seat in the low-slung sports car and stared incredulously at her date. "Am I hearing you right?" She tapped a long, perfectly polished fingernail against the armrest. "You're saying you've taken me out on three dates, and you're claiming you've spent a hundred dollars..."

  "A hundred and fifty," Larry Edwards corrected.

  One dark eyebrow shot up in disbelief. "I see. One hundred and fifty dollars, not that I have any idea what you spent it on. Your favorite restaurant is a truck stop."

  "The San Sebastian is no truck stop," he denied hotly, staring into her violet-blue eyes. Unusual eyes, beautiful and haunting. He had noticed her voice immediately on the radio--the Night Siren, everyone called her. It seemed a husky whisper of pure sensual promise. Night after night he'd listened to her and fantasized. And then when he met her...she had great skin and a mouth that screamed sex. And those eyes. He'd never seen eyes like that. She looked so innocent, and the combination of sexy and innocent was just too hard to resist.

  But she was proving to be difficult, and damn it all, what did she really have to brag about? She was skinny, looking like a lost waif, nothing to be all haughty and uptight about. In fact, she should be grateful for his attention. As far as he was concerned, she was nothing but a tease.

  She shrugged in a curiously feminine gesture. "So you think because you spent this money on three dates it entitles you to sleep with me?"

  "It damn well does, honey," he snapped. "You owe me." He hated that distant, clinical look she gave him. She needed a real man to put her in her place--and he was just the man to do it.

  Saber forced a smile. "And if I don't--how did you so delicately put this?--if I don't 'put out,' you intend to dump me off right here in the middle of the street at two o'clock in the morning?"

  She hoped he would make a move or force the issue, because he was going to get a lesson in manners he was never going to forget. She had nothing to lose. Well, almost nothing. She had stayed too long this time, made too much of a life for herself, and if she wiped up the floor with good old Larry the Louse before she disappeared, she'd be doing the women of Sherida
n a favor.

  "That's right, darling." He smirked at her complacently. "I think you'll agree you need to be a little reasonable about this, don't you?" He slid his hand along the back of her seat, fingers not quite touching her. He wanted to. Usually by now he was doing a lot of touching, loving watching the woman squirm. Loving the power he had over them. He didn't understand why he wasn't forcing her mouth to his, yanking open her blouse and taking what he wanted, but as much as he longed to do that, there was something inside of him warning him to go slower, to be a little more cautious with Saber. He was sure that very soon she would sit quietly and he'd be able to do whatever he wanted with her. He expected her to cry and plead for him not to leave her there, but instead, perfect little white teeth gleamed at him like bright pearls, making his stomach clench.

  He looked so smug Saber wanted to slap his boyish good looks right off his face. "I've got some bad news for you, Larry. The sad truth is, I'd rather pull out my fingernails one by one than sleep with you." She slipped out of the low-slung car. "Your breath stinks, Lar, and let's just face it--you're a creep." She slammed the door with such force he winced visibly.

  Fury swept through him. "This is a bad section of town, Saber. Drunken cowboys, drug dealers, deadbeats. Not a good idea to stay here."

  "Better company, I'm sure," she taunted.

  "Last chance, Saber." His eye twitched angrily. "I'm doing you a favor here. Sex with a scrawny thing like you is no Fourth of July. Basically you're a pity fuck."

  "So tempting, Lar, so very tempting. Did that get results from some scared teenager? Cuz it's really not working with me."

  "You're going to be sorry," he snapped, furious that nothing he said seemed to get the reaction he wanted. She talked down to him like a princess to a peasant and made him feel like slime under her shoe.

  "Don't think it's over, hotshot," she warned, still hanging on to her smile. "This will make a great little story on my radio show. I'll build an entire program around the theme: worst jerk you ever dated."