Murder Game Read online

  "She'll try. It's much more difficult. We're using a back door into Whitney's computer as well as searching the computers he left behind, but most of those records were destroyed when the GhostWalker program was supposedly disbanded. No one wanted the news to get out that the government's top scientist, still working for them, experimented on children that he bought and sold. We now know there were more girls than the ones he held at his home. This experiment has been ongoing for too many years, and you and I both know others had to have known about it."

  Kadan led the way to the kitchen. Nico had brought in groceries earlier, so there was coffee made. He set about making breakfast. Tansy wasn't going to be standing on her leg, and she sure as hell wasn't serving breakfast to everyone before she handled the game pieces. Ryland pitched in and helped him, and by the time the others came in, breakfast was ready.

  Tansy came in, limping a little, very pale, her eyes taking up most of her face, but the fragrance of cinnamon and sin drifted through the air. She was barefoot, wore no makeup, and her mouth was devoid of lipstick. She wore a soft pair of sweats and a thin tank that hugged her breasts, and Kadan thought she was the most beautiful, sexy woman he'd ever seen. He went to her immediately, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against him, inhaling her scent while he dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth.

  You smell great. He couldn't say it out loud, not in front of everyone, and he couldn't stop himself from running his finger down the length of her arm, taking in her soft skin. Aloud he said, "Your father is fine."

  She looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks."

  He craved that look in her eyes. Soft. Loving. Reserved only for him. His hands found her hips and slid upward, shaping her body. She didn't even flinch as his palms caressed her tucked-in waist through the tank, found her narrow rib cage, and went up the sides of her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, and he resisted cupping the soft weight, but he couldn't resist teasing her. No stripping you naked on the kitchen table and having my way with you?

  She nibbled on her lower lip, her gaze holding his boldly. You'll probably have to wait on that one until we're alone.

  The way her eyes ran over him, touching on the bulge growing in the front of his jeans, had him grinning like a fool--and he rarely grinned.

  "Sit the hell down," Ryland growled. "The two of you are killing us."

  Kadan pulled out her chair for her, waiting for her to adjust her leg for comfort before sliding into the seat next to her.

  "I appreciate all of you for what you did for me last night," Tansy said. "I had no idea those men could find me, and I'm very ashamed of my father for the part he's played putting your lives in jeopardy. Believe me, if I could find a way to repay you . . ."

  "You have," Ryland said gruffly.

  "I have?"

  Gator winked at her. "Yes, ma'am. That goofy look on Kadan's face is worth all the bullets in the world." He leaned across the table toward Kadan and sniffed. "And he sure does smell pretty now."

  Kadan hooked his foot around the leg of Gator's chair and jerked, dumping him unceremoniously on the floor.

  "Kadan's family. That makes you family," Nico said solemnly, as if nothing had happened. He didn't even glance down at Gator, who sat on the floor, laughing.

  "I see," Tansy said.

  Kadan dropped his hand beneath the table to her thigh. Does it hurt?

  She shook her head. My hand hurts more.

  He immediately took her hand and turned it over to examine the palm. "Take a look at this, Nico. When she took the gloves off, the ivory piece branded into her skin, although it's not a burn. I tried opening her hand to get her to drop the thing, but not even using pressure points helped. I hit her hand on the table edge. Do you think it's broken?"

  Tansy attempted to pull her hand away, but Kadan tightened his grip. The men crowded around, looking at the impression of the knife embedded in her palm. Nico turned her hand around and murmured to her to open and close her fingers.

  "Her hand's not broken, Kadan, and the impression is fading. How does your talent work, Tansy?"

  Again she tugged at her hand, but Kadan kept possession of it, although he did lower her arm, taking her hand beneath the table, out of sight. His fingers brushed back and forth over her palm in long, slow caresses where no one could see.

  "I'm not certain. I've had the ability as long as I can remember. I touch something, and I can sense the impressions left behind by anyone who has touched it before me. If it's strong energy, such as violence, the impressions are equally as strong. It's rather like always being in on private conversations."

  "So you wear gloves most of the time?"

  She nodded. "Always. I don't wear them when I'm camping up in the mountains, but as a rule, unless I want to stumble onto someone's secrets, I'm careful."

  "I'm shielding for her," Kadan said. "Which is why she's able to be okay here with all of you and in this house." His fingers continued to stroke her injured hand beneath the table.

  "We really should get started," she said.

  Kadan sighed. She was right. If he was going to eliminate both teams quickly, he needed this information. "Let's do it then."

  "I'll clean up," Gator said.

  "I'm going to button down the house and set up a couple of escape routes just to be safe." Nico shoved back his chair.

  "That leaves me to talk to the ladies about what they can give us on your suspects," Ryland added.

  Kadan appreciated his friends' discretion. It was difficult enough to watch Tansy suffer while she worked, but he also knew her inevitable reaction embarrassed her. She didn't want to try tracking in front of an audience. He held her hand as they went into the bedroom where he'd set up the pieces. He'd placed the four pieces side by side on the dresser.

  "Sit. I don't want you screwing up your hip."

  She nodded, almost without hearing him. Her gaze was already fixed on the small, perfectly detailed bull. He kept his mind in hers, wanting to understand what she was doing so he'd have a better chance of helping her when she needed him. She was already half-gone from him, tuning everything out around her but the object that she was going to handle. She pulled on the gloves almost absently, not even glancing at him.

  There was only Tansy and the ivory game piece and the information it would yield. Her breathing changed first. Kadan watched Tansy's face rather than her hands. He knew the moment she picked up the ivory bull with her gloved hands. The jolt of violent energy was strong. He felt it blast through her mind to encompass his. Along with the violence was a sexual energy that didn't surprise him. Tansy's record of tracking was 100 percent, and if she thought a piece represented the highly sexual nature of the owner, he believed her.

  "He's very involved in the rodeo. He likes the power of the bull and craves it for himself. He enjoys his prowess with women. His buddies want the details, and he tries to top his record of several women in one day, all begging for his attentions. He often has a couple of women at the same time. He enjoys that he can get them to do anything he wants more than he actually enjoys the sexual act. He's a total adrenaline junkie, needing the high all the time. The murder doesn't give him his fix, but the idea of getting away with it, the planning, carrying out, and walking away clean--that's the rush for him. The more public, the greater the risk, the better the high."

  Her eyes deepened in color, going from blue to violet. He could see the silvery lines begin to form in them, and his belly hardened into tight fist-size knots. She moved farther and farther away from him along the thread of the cowboy, where he couldn't really follow. He could see blurring images, coming and going fast, but his mind's eye couldn't grasp them. He could only pick up the impressions from her.

  "This was a chance to pull ahead of Team One. The idiot Stallion couldn't keep it in his pants and lost points for the other team. If he could pull this off, they'd surge ahead. The target was everything they could possibly want. High-profile. In public. The method was up to him, just get the job done
. His kind of scenario. The thrill of walking into the courthouse with cameras everywhere and chatting with his target had been amazing. Hell, he nearly came in his jeans. Bodyguards everywhere. Stupid rent-a-cop mentality. Maybe for fun he'd take a couple of them out as well, but he had to make certain it all went down exactly as instructed, making sure the correct targets were taken."

  Tansy swallowed hard and forced herself to slow down, to try to make sense of what she was seeing and feeling. "He wants to do the murder publicly; it's almost a euphoric feeling, very sexual, although sex has nothing to do with the crime, even if his target happens to be a woman. He isn't at all like Stallion, where the murder is all about raping and dominating a woman. It's the thrill all the way with this one."

  She took another breath, let it out, and slipped deeper into her hypnotic state. Kadan could see the silver spreading through the violet, so that her eyes began to shimmer. "You loved being in the military and didn't want to leave. Why did you then? You hide your true nature so well. Why? You were forced to leave or you would have stayed on forever. You could do whatever you wanted and not get caught. Oh God."

  Kadan saw her hesitate. Her finger began to slide back and forth in a mesmerizing stroke over the back of the bull. "You killed more than one teammate, slipping up behind them and breaking a neck or shoving your knife into their side. You slit the throat of a commanding officer just a few feet from your team just to see if you could get away with it--and you did, blaming it on an enemy you killed. How did he know? No one saw you. No one ever suspected you, yet he knew. Who knew, cowboy, who knew you were a serial killer before you ever played the game? Of course. The puppet master. He knew and he stroked your ego and manipulated you into playing his game. But why? And why did you leave the military?"

  Kadan moved closer to her, sensing she was being drawn farther away from him. He didn't touch her, but kept his body an inch from hers, watching her hands now, watching the way she stroked the bull.

  "An injury. Something bad. Something we can catch you with. You're on disability. A decorated vet from special teams that rides bulls even though you're on full disability. What is wrong with you? And how did he know you killed?"

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath. Kadan stiffened. She was reaching for that other thread, the subtle one that was potentially more dangerous than any other.

  "He knew you would kill. He knows you so well. He got you through, got you the . . ."

  I have your favorite teddy bear. The one you kept from that old nurse who rocked you at night when your head hurt so bad it felt like someone was pounding spikes through it. Your energy is embedded deep in poor little teddy.

  Kadan reacted instantly to that taunting voice brushing at the walls of her mind. He swept his arms around her, shoving his much larger fingers between her thumb and forefinger, forcing her hand open so the bull dropped free. He jerked her around to face him and settled his mouth over hers, kissing her long and deep, pushing himself into her mind, filling her full, so full of himself that there wasn't room for anything or anyone else. He allowed images to fill his mind, to push into hers, images of the two of them making love, hot and sweet and fierce, just the way he was kissing her.

  He gave the killers and the victims no chance to settle anywhere, sweeping them aside and staking his claim. Her lashes fluttered, and when he lifted her head, the color was back to violet, the opaque veil gone. He kissed her again.

  "We did it." There was a smear of blood by her nose. He removed it with the pad of his finger. "You picked up a lot even through the gloves." Her body was trembling and she still seemed far away, but he'd brought her out of the trance and pushed the killers from her mind. "Let's get you into the other room. You're going to need your headache medicine."

  She shook her head, her fingers tightening on his arm. "No. I have to go after another one. I want the one with the faintest impressions. I have to do it now."

  She was swaying with weariness, and he could already feel the beginnings of the headache beating at her. They hadn't even debriefed the first game piece or talked about the puppet master. And Kadan sure as hell wasn't going to let her anywhere near that bastard. "It's too soon. You're exhausted and drained."

  "Exactly. He'll believe I can't do it again so soon. He won't be looking for me. This is my chance. He's so arrogant he thinks he's way stronger, that I can't possibly find him before he finds me. He went to my parents' home, Kadan. He knows who I am and he went to my parents' home, somehow got in and went through my things. I have a teddy bear I had with me before I was ever adopted. He has it. I'm going to find him now, today. He'll think I'm done and he won't be lying in wait to ambush me."

  "I don't like this, Tansy," Kadan said, uneasy with the idea. She was exhausted and shaken; he could feel her body trembling against his.

  "I can do this, Kadan." Her eyes met his steadily. "I can. We have a chance to track him right now. It might be our best shot at it."

  He took a deep breath and pushed down his need to protect her, his desire to wrap her up and keep her safe from any harm. She wasn't a woman who played it safe, and just as he wanted her to accept his nature, he needed to accept that she was far too courageous for her own good--and he loved her that way.

  "Damn it," he said, capitulating. "Which one?"

  Tansy leaned against him for strength while she passed her palms above the three remaining game pieces. Energy pulsed off of the scythe and she pulled her hands away quickly. "Move that one for me."

  Kadan picked the carved scythe up with a cloth and set it to one side.

  Tansy tried again. The two remaining ivory pieces were side by side, so she could judge their potency. The scorpion hit her fairly hard, sending impressions of rage into her mind. She quickly pulled her hand away and stared at the last one--the hawk. "I think this is my best shot at it, Kadan. The others throw off so much violence I get impressions when I'm inches from them. This one is much more contained."

  "Let's do it then," Kadan said. He stroked his hand down her back, the curve of her spine, and over her rounded bottom. He didn't know if he touched her for himself or for her, but he couldn't stop the caress. His hands went to her hips, slid up under her shirt, and massaged the ribbon of skin there with the pads of his fingers. "Are you certain, Tansy?"

  She nodded. "I'm pretty sure I can get him."

  He bent his head to the nape of her neck, scraping his teeth back and forth. "I know you can, baby. Find him for us." She would never know what it cost him to say it, but he forced the words with conviction, when deep inside, his belly was back to knots. He couldn't summon the ice when anything concerned her, not even when he needed it most.

  Tansy didn't hesitate. She cupped her hands around the small ivory hawk. Instantly the energy swarmed over and into her mind. Images poured in along with the thick sludge that she'd long ago come to accept with murder. She kept her palms very close, almost brushing the ivory game piece.

  He'd drawn a card and the murder was very precise. He had to follow specific steps in order to get the points his team needed, now that they had a real chance to win, thanks to Stallion's screwup. No imagination involved in this one, no creativity. The victims were always picked well in advance, but usually they got to at least choose how they wanted to "do" them.

  "You're not happy, are you?" she murmured aloud.

  Kadan edged closer to her, skin to skin, wishing they were both naked and he could slide against her, distracting her from being sucked too far down the tunnel where the wailing victims waited and the killer grew stronger.

  Tansy tried to push past the killer to find the threat she was looking for, but Hawk was upset. He was a careful man and he didn't like the way the play was laid out. He wanted to contact the referee, usually forbidden unless the murder had to be forfeited. His team members were upset with him, but they weren't the ones carrying out the details, and it wasn't fair. He was good at what he did, and he followed every script down to the last detail--until this one. The instructions were
just too precise, and he didn't like it. The ref was probably trying to get Team One back into the game after Stallion screwed up so badly.

  The Reaper was especially angry, getting in his face. He wanted to win this round, and when the Reaper insisted they do something his way, the others always went along. Well not this time. This was his game and the play had to be fair.

  Kadan stiffened. He knew that name. He'd come across the Reaper a few years back running a mission in Afghanistan. Big man. Competent. Cold eyes and hands like Nico when he held a gun. He started to tell Tansy, but he didn't want to break her concentration. He could track the Reaper. Marine. A lot of combat experience. What the hell was he doing running with a bunch of murderers? Over the years, they'd fought a few battles together, and the man knew his job. Kadan had respected him.

  Had he been enhanced? Kadan didn't think so, not at the time. That had to have come later. The man hadn't been a stone-cold killer, not then. So did that mean enhancement could push someone a little twisted over the edge? Jack and Ken Norton had often speculated about that, along with some of the other GhostWalkers. Maybe it wasn't the same man at all. Kadan hoped not; he'd been a good soldier.

  Tansy pressed closer to the hawk figurine, allowing her gloved hand to brush the individual feathers. He refused to let the Reaper intimidate him; he used the Internet, finding the guest book the ref had given them to put a message on. The guest book was a best-selling author's, and only an automatic reply would get back to him. He would check the next day for the ref's reply. When it came, Hawk was unhappy. There could be no deviations. Follow instructions exactly or lose all points.

  "I've got you," Tansy breathed the words aloud, fighting down excitement. She had to stay calm and not allow any vibrations on that anchor thread that ran to the puppet master. She began a slow, inch-by-inch crawl along the tunnel, desperately trying to ignore the shocked gasps of the victims as Hawk entered the house through a second-story window and, following the dictates of the card he'd drawn, went into the young boy's bedroom first and made short work of him. The two girls were next.

  Tansy closed her eyes, her breath ragged as she tried to slip past without looking in, but it was impossible. One child was around eight, the other no more than five. At least he was merciful, not drawing it out. They were dead before they were aware of the intruder. Hawk crept down the stairs, glancing at his watch, careful of the time. The adults were in the first bedroom. He killed the man instantly, before he woke the woman.