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  Violet sat up, coughing heavily, dragging clean air into her lungs, her body trembling. She took the glass of water Cayenne held out to her and drank deeply. Cayenne stood and leaned down to take her elbow. Violet drew back as if contact with Cayenne might contaminate her.

  "I would prefer not to be touched," Violet said, her voice haughty in spite of her coughing. "I have an aversion to . . ." Her gaze swept up and down Cayenne's body. "Insects," she finished, clearly meaning to insult.

  "Fucking bitch." Trap reached down, caught Cayenne's arm and yanked her up and to him. He enfolded her in his arms, sheltering her against his body, against his heart.

  "Actually, Senator," Cayenne said, turning in Trap's arms to face the woman. Trap locked both arms just under her breasts, holding her in place so she couldn't help Violet up. "A spider is not an insect. It's an arachnid. I'm neither. But then you know that. You were striking out because Trap scared you to death, although I know you're telling the truth when you state you have an aversion to me--to what I am. I suggest you tell us why we're here so we can leave before someone gets hurt."

  Violet struggled to get to her feet. She had to use the chair to pull herself up. Her breasts were heaving, nearly coming out of the tight bodice of her gown as she continued to struggle for air. She collapsed back into her chair and gulped more water from the glass she'd refused to relinquish while she fought to get up.

  When she had her breathing under control and she could speak again, she waved toward the chairs. "Thank you, Cayenne, I appreciate you coming to my assistance." Her voice was stiff and the senator didn't look at her when she forced herself to be polite.

  Cayenne nodded, but Trap didn't allow her to move. He kept her at a distance, holding her, back to him, facing the senator.

  Violet moistened her lips, took another drink of water, her hand shaking. She noticed the water moving in the glass, giving her away, and she put it down on the little table beside her chair.

  "I thought you were paired with Whitney," Wyatt said. "If that's the case, why are you opposing him? Why aren't you showing him the same devotion you did your husband?"

  Violet's gaze swept over him. "You know why." Her voice was low. Still shaky.

  "Because pairing gives a powerful physical attraction, not an emotional one," Trap said. He felt Cayenne's gaze burning into him, but he didn't look at her. "Whitney can't control that. He doesn't understand the emotional because he doesn't feel."

  "He feels other people's pain," she corrected, wiping her mouth, taking the last vestige of lipstick. "He knows that I know he is responsible for Ed's death. He likes the idea that I'll serve him all the while aware that he killed the man I love. He knows that it hurts me, but that's his enjoyment. The only time he's truly happy is when someone else is in pain. He prolongs it, so he can watch."

  "So these experiments of his are more self-serving than patriotic?" Wyatt asked.

  Violet frowned, hesitating. Finally she shook her head. "I wouldn't say that. He's a patriot. He honestly believes he can cut down on the deaths of American soldiers. He absolutely wants to create soldiers who are elite and have far better chances of survival. His ultimate goal is that those soldiers will create the next generation of soldiers. He believes in what he's doing."

  She was obviously reluctant to admit that. "Saying that, he despises women and feels they are disposable. The same with female children. Any girl in an orphanage is at risk if she has the slightest psychic ability. He 'sees' the ability. I don't know how, but he knows. He also 'sees' what he calls a 'true' pairing. He thinks in terms of soldiers and what they can do together, but I think it is more like Dr. Fontenot suggests. The pairing is both emotional and physical as well as psychic. That's why it's so deep."

  She pressed her closed fist to her mouth. It was shaking. "Ed wasn't psychic, but he loved me. He truly loved me. Whitney didn't understand that bond. He isn't capable of feeling it, so he can't really understand it."

  "Your husband set up the Norton brothers, sending their team into the Congo, straight into an ambush. You knew about that, didn't you?" Trap asked.

  "You don't understand. Whitney wanted a diamond. It was important to his research. In order to get what he wanted, he used my husband."

  "In order to get what your husband wanted, the two of you sent our soldiers into an ambush knowing the likelihood of their survival was very slim," Trap snapped.

  Violet sighed. "You deliberately don't want to understand. Politics is a road of sheer treachery. You have to have allies. You have to tread carefully. It's all about making the right connections, and in doing that, you often have to compromise your code of ethics. That's the way the game is played. It's been that way forever. I didn't make up the rules. It could have been any senator Whitney approached with his offer."

  "You know, Senator, even though I think some of what you're saying and how you're acting is genuine, there isn't any difference between you and Whitney," Trap snapped. "He tortures little girls and forces them into sexual slavery in order to get what he wants. He believes the end justifies the means. You know that's all going on and you let it, you betray those women and you send in soldiers with children around . . ."

  "Vipers. Made in a petri dish. You know what he does. You know none of you, including the children, are truly human anymore."

  "There it is," Trap said. "You didn't give a damn whether or not the girls lived through the attack. All you cared about was making sure what you wanted happened."

  Wyatt leapt up and stood over Violet, his fingers curled into fists.

  Stay calm, Wyatt. Trap's already a hothead. I don't need both of you to lose it in there. We have to find out what she wants. Joe's voice was devoid of all feeling.

  Wyatt swore and turned on his heel, shoving the chair out of his way so he could stalk across the room.

  "To take down Whitney," Violet emphasized. "If we manage to rid this world of him, the girls will no longer be in danger. He has seven laboratories he uses for experiments. Laboratories where he and his people create genetic mutants. Disgusting, nonhuman beings. Creatures that kill without mercy." There was sheer revulsion in her voice, in her mind. She actually shuddered, not even seeing Trap's reaction. She was too busy trying to persuade them that she was right.

  "Seven monsters just like Whitney oversee those labs for him. You took down Braden, but that leaves six more. I don't have those locations, but I know they exist because I've heard Whitney talking to the men and giving them orders. I know he flies to them whenever he feels like it. He gets help from so many people in power. If I get to be vice president, I can find those people and get rid of them."

  Ask her who set our team up to be ambushed in Afghanistan, Joe commanded. He was still feeling the effects of his injuries.

  "Who sent our team into an ambush in Afghanistan?" Trap demanded. "And tell the fucking truth because we'll know if you lie."

  She raised her chin. "He did that. Not me. He wanted Wyatt home."

  That's a mixture of truth and lies, Cayenne whispered into Trap's mind.

  "But you knew he was doing it, didn't you?" Trap snapped.

  Violet shrugged. "I couldn't stop him."

  Cayenne hesitated for the first time. I think it was Violet that did it and Whitney knew, but honestly, I don't know for certain, only that she was very aware and feels no remorse. At. All.

  "But you could have warned us all," Wyatt said. "Just tell us why you brought us here so we can go. Being in your company offends me."

  "Is that so?" Violet's gaze narrowed on him. "You live with a snake and your best friend lives with a spider. Your children are venomous creatures, and yet you can't be in my presence because you say it offends you? Do you have any idea of the monsters he's created?"

  "I'm looking at one," Trap said, "so yes, I do. Tell us your fucking plan or I'm walking right now."

  Cayenne's fingers curled around his and then brushed the back of his hand. Slowly. Gently. There was something beautiful to him in her gesture. She
wasn't in the least bit affected by Violet's vile prejudice. He could sense his teammate's reactions to Violet's bigotry. They all loved Pepper and the girls. They were beginning to have affection for Cayenne, and in any case, she was theirs. They looked after their own, and all of them were offended on her behalf. Cayenne remained the calmest of all of them, her gaze on Violet, her hand in Trap's.

  "I want to bring together all the top scientists we have to work on cancer research. I have Whitney's research." She sounded triumphant. "Everything he's compiled over the years. I know you've been working on producing some kind of molecules to surround and strangle cancer cells. There are so many breakthroughs happening right now, so many people coming up with ideas, but Whitney's tried all sorts of experiments. He documented them all. Flame wasn't the only woman he gave cancer to. She was the only survivor, but his research provides a platform for all of you to start from. It will advance your work by years."

  "Why haven't you assassinated him yet?" Trap asked.

  She swallowed hard. "I can't do that. There's no way. It's impossible."

  Because she's paired with him. She isn't strong enough, Joe said. Get this over so we can all get the hell out of here.

  "You'll have all the funding you need, Dr. Dawkins, I can guarantee that. You'll have access to the work of the greatest minds we have in the United States. I know curing cancer is doable. I know absolutely you can do it. You and Dr. Fontenot. When the two of you published your paper on protein and sugar molecules and the possibilities of what they could do to fight cancer, so many other researchers jumped on that. You opened new doors. This platform will ensure that we will win the election. Once I'm in power and I can ferret out everyone who supports him, I can take him down."

  She's lying, Cayenne said instantly.

  Are you certain?

  She wants to win the election and she intends to hunt for Whitney's supporters. There was truth there. She genuinely wants a cure for cancer. That's truth enough, although her reasons are self-serving. But taking down Whitney was a lie. I think she wants power over him, but she doesn't intend to destroy him. More, she is involved with others, people in power, I can feel their influence on her, ones who would destroy Whitney's GhostWalker program. Others who have her same prejudice.

  Cayenne, Joe broke in. Are you absolutely certain she's lying about destroying him? Absolutely, without a doubt, certain.

  Yes. There was no hesitation on Cayenne's part. Her voice changes pitch when she's lying. I can hear the difference. Also, there are changes in her body, physical changes that are so minute, you can't see them, but I feel them.

  Trap, tell her that you'll think about it. The idea of seeing Whitney's research is certainly intriguing, Joe said. And then get out of there. This is turning my stomach.

  "I can't pretend the idea of seeing Whitney's work isn't huge," Wyatt said, when Trap remained silent. "We've worked on various ideas for curing cancer, but his work might really advance ours by years, Trap. If she can bring other researchers together, and we have more funding, we really might be able to make this happen."

  Trap pulled Cayenne up and turned his back on Violet as he strode toward the door. "We're in, but there better not be any more attacks on our families." He turned his head and pinned Violet with his ice-cold gaze. "You'd better fucking hear what I'm saying to you, bitch. I'll kill you. If I don't get you, one of the others will. In case you don't believe me, you remember what happened in this room, and right now, you have a fucking phantom behind you who could snap your worthless neck in seconds."

  Gino emerged behind her, his arm dropping and then locking around her neck.

  "Right now, this moment, you're one second from death." Trap paused to allow her predicament to fully sink in. She'd all but forgotten Gino was in the room. He'd been too still, too quiet, fading into the background. She had no idea when he'd come up behind her, because she hadn't heard him--or smelled him--or felt him and she had a built-in radar for trouble. "You will have every GhostWalker from every team coming at you, not Whitney, if there's an attack on any GhostWalker again. Do you understand what I'm saying to you? It won't matter that you're the vice president or the president. No one, nothing will protect you from us."

  Gino let her go and moved away from her, not even looking at her when she turned her head toward him. She touched her neck with shaky fingers. "I can't control Whitney. You know I can't."

  "True, but you can warn us. You can get word to us when he's up to something," Wyatt pointed out. He was already walking to the door, following Trap.

  Trap yanked open the door. "Pull yourself together, Senator, you've got bullshit speeches to make. Go ahead and tell the others Wyatt and I are in. That ought to buy you a lot of funding."

  He tightened his arm around Cayenne and swept through the door, taking her with him. Stalking across the room, he didn't look right or left. His face was a mask of indifference. He appeared totally aloof. Cameras were on him, people greeted him, and he kept moving, never changing expression, never answering anyone.

  --

  Trap said nothing at all as the limousine took them through the darkened streets to the airport. Cayenne didn't feel much like talking either. Being in close proximity to Violet left her shaken. She'd been surrounded, from the day she'd been born, with cruelty. Viciousness. There was an oily feel to the aura surrounding the person that made her sick to her stomach.

  Violet wasn't vicious, but she was deceitful and selfish, capable of great cruelty. She was capable of only accepting what she wanted as her reality. She couldn't see anyone else's point of view. She believed in her own greatness and believed that it was perfectly okay for her to remove anything or anyone that got in her way. Her aversion to Cayenne was deep-seated, as was her revulsion of Wyatt's daughters and his wife.

  They'd been in the city three days preparing for their meeting with the senator. Both she and Trap were used to spending long days alone. Although they'd stayed in the penthouse, the team was often with them. When they went out they were surrounded. Sometimes Cayenne felt as if she couldn't breathe, and she knew it had to be the same for Trap.

  They'd given his uncles several opportunities to make their try, appearing often in public. Those times, the underlying tension had been terrible, but the uncles hadn't shown up. Trap's mood had gone from bad to just plain foul. She couldn't blame him. He'd geared himself up to face the men who had helped to destroy his entire family and in the end had taken his last happiness from him. They'd changed the entire course of his life, and still, they were somewhere, hidden by the very money he'd given them for his aunt's safe release.

  At the airport, Ryland's team boarded their private plane for home. She liked them all, especially Flame and Gator, and actually hugged them before waving as the two teams split. She waited until they were in the air before she went into the large, well-appointed bathroom to change out of her evening dress. The silk slithered to the floor to pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her panties. Every time she'd moved in that silk, her body had come alive with need for Trap.

  She stretched and reached back to braid the long thick hair, needing to get it out of her face. She pulled on her soft, vintage jeans, her favorite pair, the ones Trap had bought her that fit like a glove. It felt good to become her again. She loved the dress and even the one dance she'd had with Trap, but she much preferred the swamp and their enormous, ridiculous home.

  She pulled a T-shirt over her head, going without a bra. She much preferred to be naked, but that wouldn't do until they got home. In the meantime, she was going for comfortable. She would put her shoes on later--much later--after the flight. Right now, she wanted to sleep. To get her mind as far as possible from Violet and the things she'd admitted.

  Cayenne began to make her way back to her seat where Trap waited. The plane hit turbulence, shifting in the air. Bumping. Her heart jumped. She wasn't used to flying, and it was a little frightening to have the airplane, so high in the sky, jolting like it might go down any mome
nt.

  The next lurch sent her sprawling forward. Malichai caught her, grinning at her with his devilish smirk. "Falling into my arms again, woman? I know you find me pretty, but seriously, Cai, I'm not for sale." He winked at her, his white teeth flashing even as his hands steadied her.

  "You're breaking my heart."

  He didn't let her go and when the next bump came, it flung her forward so that she fell almost in his lap. He pulled her into his lap, holding her steady while the plane dipped and shuddered.

  "You aren't afraid, are you?" He kept his voice low.

  She was grateful for the consideration, even though everyone on the plane had acute hearing and probably, now, all of them were aware her heart pounded like crazy. She swallowed hard and glanced across the plane where Trap sat. His eyes were on her, all that ice making her shiver. Glacier-cold. But beneath the ice she saw that blue flame, the one that burned so cold it was hot. He looked--furious.

  "I'm a little afraid. I don't like flying," she admitted. She pushed out of his lap and stood in the wide aisle, holding on to the back of his chair. "I just want this over."

  She made her way to Trap, hanging on to each of the chairs as she went. When she neared him, his hand snaked out, settled around her wrist, and he all but yanked her into her seat.

  Cai? Since when does he call you Cai?

  She frowned at him and subtly moved her wrist in the hopes that he'd release her. He didn't. He doesn't call me that. At least he never has before.

  She closed her eyes, determined to ignore his foul temper. She was tired. Exhausted. Sick to her stomach thanks to the turbulence and he wasn't helping. She didn't like the city any more than he did. More, she didn't like being in public at all. She was trying to be friendly to his team members because they were his friends. She stopped trying to take her hand back and forced herself to relax.

  You aren't wearing a bra. You like rubbing your breasts all over him?

  What are you talking about? Trap, it seemed, was spoiling for a fight. She was too exhausted to rise to the bait, so she pressed her lips together and kept her eyes closed.