Ruthless Game g-9

by Christine Feehan

  Rose had one job. Kane shadowed her through the labyrinth of halls, up the stairs to the master bedroom. The other team members were each assigned to specific rooms and families. She had to believe they would do their jobs, one by one, putting every household member to sleep and collecting some kind of evidence to show Lopez. Kane held up his hand, and she halted at the top of the wide staircase. The house was dark but for a few dim lights. It enabled them to use the shadows, sliding from one to the other in complete silence.

  The whispers in her head began coming fast. Done. Done. Done. Still she waited, breathing in and out, amazed at the capabilities and unity of such a large team working together. Whitney’s idea had been two-man teams. He had stressed that the larger the number, the more room for error, and yet this unit of men—her unit—had penetrated the head of one of the largest and most dangerous cartels with an intricate and daring plan.

  You have a go, Mack said.

  At the soft order, Kane, lying prone on the floor just feet from the guard, shot the arrow into his neck. The guard tried to slap at what he thought was a stinging bug, but the needle had entered his bloodstream, and the fast-acting concoction had him slumping over, his semiautomatic slipping from his hands. Rose caught the gun and lowered it to his lap. Kane removed his ID. This was going to be the most dangerous moment. There were no cameras. They had to enter the bedroom without detection, put the wife to sleep, and have a talk with Cesar.

  The door was bolted, and it took Kane a few precious minutes to pick the lock. They were on a time line. The guards had to wake up before sunrise, and all of them had to be gone and out of Mexico before that happened. Kane inched the door open and went in on the floor, rolling to the right of the bed—the woman’s side—staying in the darker shadows. Rose came in after him, softly closing the door behind her. The bed creaked, and she froze, lying in plain sight if Cesar happened to look down.

  She counted to sixty and then began a slow crawl to Cesar’s side of the bed. He would be armed and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. He was sleeping facing her, and she smiled as she slipped her hand under the pillow to remove his gun. A knife lay on the bedside table, the hilt pointed toward him where he could easily grab it. She waited until Kane had darted the wife and slid into the darkness. She knew his knife was out and ready to throw.

  She crouched down, presenting a smaller target, lifted Cesar’s knife, and placed it ever-so-gently against the artery pumping in his neck. “I think you should wake up, now, Senor Lopez,” she announced softly.

  The eyes snapped open, instant awareness there.

  “I wouldn’t move if I were you, but take a good look at my face. I want you to remember me, to know who I am.”

  No one wanted Cesar Lopez to remember them. The eyes burned with arrogance, with fury, with the promise of reprisal. Rose smiled at him. “I think, before you go all macho on me, you might consider that you haven’t looked at the condition of your wife.”

  His gaze flicked toward his wife of forty years. He couldn’t turn his head, but he could see the outline of her beside him.

  “She’s sleeping soundly. I want you to really think about this situation you’ve found yourself in, Senor Lopez, because if you don’t, some very bad things are going to happen to you and every single person you love.”

  The door opened, and dark shadows flitted in and out of the room, dropping IDs on the bed between his legs. The IDs raining down on him were from his guards, his son, his daughters, their spouses, and eventually something taken from each child supposedly safe in his home.

  Rose leaned in close. “As you can see, we could have killed every man, woman, and child on your estate and in this house. Everyone. You don’t know us, Lopez, but we know you, and we know where all of them live. No one else knows we’re here but you. They’ll all believe they fell asleep. You can tell them whatever you want when you give them back their IDs and whatever else we’ve confiscated from them as proof that we could have killed them. Call off the contract on me. Walk away and pretend I don’t exist. You and I won’t have any more trouble. If you don’t, my friends and I will be back, and believe me when I tell you, you don’t want any part of us. Not now. Not ever.”

  She allowed the knife to slide against his skin. His breath caught in his throat and he stiffened, fear creeping into his eyes, his body turning to a shuddering mass of jelly. He could see the shadows of men, moving in his room, but he could never identify them. They’d invaded his inner sanctuary, and they’d proven they could kill everyone. He swallowed hard and nodded his head.

  “Don’t disappoint me, Lopez. Don’t ever get stupid. Even if your people found and killed me, my people would take everything and everyone you care about. And then they’ll kill you. They’re ghosts. You’ll never see them coming, and then it will be too late. Do we have an understanding?” She kept her voice very even, very soft. Almost gentle.

  His eyes were nearly all white now, his terror mounting. His body had broken out in a sweat. All the arrogance had faded as he faced his own mortality. There was no refuting anything she said. The proof was strewn all over his bed.

  He nodded again, this time vigorously enough to have the knife cutting into his skin had Rose not been cautious.

  “You realize we’ll have to put you to sleep like the others,” she said, almost as if she was talking to a child. “Just in case you try to convince yourself that you were having a nightmare, I’m cutting your dose in half. You’ll wake up first and see all the proof lying on your bed. You can walk around your house and see the guards, your children, and your grandchildren sleeping peacefully. And you can thank me, Lopez. I’ll only have compassion for them this one time. Look into my eyes so you know I’m telling you the truth. Anything—anything happens to me, and they’re all dead.”

  He believed her; she could see it on his face. She pressed the needle into his neck and watched him watching her as the drug took him.

  Phase six complete. Let’s go home, she informed Mack.

  CHAPTER 20

  The scent of flowers permeated the air. Rose inhaled deeply and turned her face up to Kane’s. His piercing gaze met hers, and her heart nearly stopped and then began to pound. Would it always be like this? Such an extraordinary, overwhelming love that shook her every time she looked at him?

  “Do all brides feel like this on their wedding day?” she murmured, waiting for him to bend his head to hers. She couldn’t look at him without wanting to be kissed, and Kane always knew what she needed—or wanted. Even the boots she’d left behind in the store were now safely in her closet—a gift from him. He seemed to like giving her gifts. No one had ever done that before, and sometimes she didn’t quite know what to say or do when he presented her with another package or left something on their bed.

  He didn’t disappoint her, his arm sliding around her waist, drawing her close to him, so she could take him deep into her lungs before his mouth touched hers. The familiar butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She would always— always—love kissing him. The world dropped away in spite of the noise of so many voices, so many conversations swirling around them. Three GhostWalker teams had come to help celebrate their day and to catch up with one another.

  Kane had given this to her—this incredible wedding and a memory she never considered she would ever have. It wasn’t the white wedding dress right out of the magazine that Jaimie and Rhianna had found for her or the tuxedo on Kane that made him look like her very own handsome prince that meant so much. It was these people—her people—surrounding them, celebrating with them. They’d come from all over, filling the warehouse, the one Gideon and Paul and been renovating.

  The warehouse had been transformed into a sparkling world filled with elegant chandeliers and ice sculptures, dazzling things seen only between the pages of a book but never experienced. The men were incredibly handsome, just like in the fairy tales, while the women, dressed in beautiful gowns, were breathtaking.

  Kane pulled her into his arms as the music slowed int
o a sweet, dreamy rhythm so that she rested her cheek against his chest and let herself melt into him. They danced past the playpens where Jack and Briony Norton had placed their twin sons. The two boys, Jeremiah Ken and Noah Jack, followed the action with interested eyes, occasionally turning their heads toward each other as if in silent communication.

  That was the strange thing, Rose decided, about the babies, the way they seemed so completely intent with each other, as if they were silently communicating. Daniel Ryland Miller, Ryland and Lily’s son, was there as well, a strong boy with his mother’s eyes and his father’s commanding features. Sebastian lay on his stomach watching the other babies soberly, and they all seemed to be very interested in one another.

  “You don’t think, at their age, Kane, that the babies could already be telepathic and communicating with one another, do you?” Rose murmured speculatively against his chest.

  At once, all four boys turned their heads toward her, as if they’d heard her, their eyes bright and interested. Her breath caught in her throat. “Kane, I think they can hear and understand me.”

  He turned his head to study the expressions on each of the babies’ faces. Each of the boys was watching them intently. There was no doubt that they looked more intelligent than blank, but he didn’t know yet the developmental process with babies. He glanced at the mothers of each of the boys. Briony was whispering to her husband, Jack Norton, as Kane swept Rose past them. Both parents turned to look with that same speculation they were feeling at their twins and then at the other two boys. Ken and Mari Norton immediately followed their lead when they’d been cuddling together in a corner, which meant Jack or Briony had alerted them to the difference in the babies.

  “It stands to reason that all of them would be strong telepaths, Rose,” Kane said gently, turning her hand against his heart.

  His steps directed her easily around the dance floor, so that she felt as if she was floating. She felt like she could do anything when she was with him. The intricate steps were easy with his strong direction.

  “Jack and Ken, as well as Ryland and I, are all natural telepaths. Briony and Mari probably are as well. Lily is. And you have talent as well.”

  “Not strong,” she denied. “I can tap into your talent.”

  “Nevertheless, it follows that our children are going to be very adept and strong in that area. Don’t be afraid for them, Rose. Everyone in this room will stand for those children. We’ll love them and guide them and provide everything they need to grow strong and healthy. They’ll know they’re loved. If anything, the very child Whitney was looking to create might be his downfall. They’re bound to inherit strong loyalty genes, to us and to one another.

  The way our teams work will only reinforce that. All of us scored high in the protection area, so my guess is, so will they. This is going to work, Rose.”

  Rose snuggled closer, nuzzling his throat, her heart contracting. The room was filled with so many GhostWalkers, it made her feel as if she wasn’t so different from normal. Her child would grow up with them, with all these men and woman who would understand if he—and the other children born—were strong telepaths.

  “I’m so happy,” she murmured as they danced past Ryland and Lily.

  Lily caught her whispered confession, and she nodded her head, flashing a beaming smile.

  “You look so incredibly beautiful, Rose,” Kane said, pulling her closer. “I’ll never forget the way you looked walking toward me. I never thought that I’d have a woman like you in my life. It’s all there etched in my brain. And now, the way the light pours over your hair, the way all that silk shines, so black it’s nearly blue. The world disappears when I’m holding you.” He brushed a kiss over the top of her head.

  “You make me feel like a princess, Kane,” she admitted. “In my wildest dreams, I could never have imagined this moment.”

  He stopped her in the shadows and found her mouth almost blindly, pouring his love into her. A tremor ran through her body. Love was such an overwhelming emotion. She could barely think straight when she was kissing Kane, so she gave it up, wrapping her arms around his neck and dragging him closer, giving herself to him.

  He’d given her everything she could possibly want for her wedding day. The room was transformed into an amazing glittering world of laughter and camaraderie. There was definitely magic permeating the air, surrounding her. Each time he kissed her or smiled at her, her heart fluttered and her body reacted. Time slowed while they talked to the members of the various GhostWalker teams, as she renewed her acquaintances with the women she’d shared the first few years of her childhood with.

  Tears of happiness and of memories turned to laughter, and all the while, Kane was there. His arm steadied her. His smile made her feel as if her entire world was right. His strength steadied her. She looked up at his face, so familiar now. So loved. Every line. Every expression. Those vivid green eyes. She could look at him forever and never tire of it.

  “Javier said word filtered down that Lopez was canceling the contract on you, that it was a mistake, but we’re still alert for any news,” Kane informed her.

  “That’s what Jaimie said. No chatter on me, which is a good thing.”

  The good thing was really standing in front of her. How different her life was now. Why had she ever thought she might be exchanging one prison for another? She reached for him, suddenly aching inside. His arms tightened, and once more, they were circling the dance floor, only this time, the heat of his body encompassed her until she could hear his heart hammering beneath her ear. She felt his hands glide down her back to her hips, pulling her closer so that his heavy erection ground into her telling need.

  It didn’t take much contact between them to ignite a fire. He bent his head, nuzzling her neck and then teasing with small licks that turned almost abruptly into desperate nips. Each stinging bite sent an electrical current rushing through her veins. Her womb contracted as she shivered beneath the assault of his tongue and teeth. Hidden in the shadows, she suddenly wished they were alone. She needed her husband desperately.

  The fairy-tale world dropped away. The music. The dancing. The murmur of conversations. All the good-looking men and women who had come from great distances to celebrate with them. Everything disappeared until she was alone with Kane—her Kane. Solid. Real. A man—a soldier—the one person in the world she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The man who set her blood on fire and could bring her more pleasure than anything she could have imagined.

  “Do you think we could slip away? I could change my clothes,” she suggested.

  His eyes blazed down at her, going dark. Going hungry. So Kane. For an answer, he practically dragged her over to Jaimie. “Rose is going to change,” he informed her. “Can you keep an eye on Sebastian until we get back?”

  Mack snorted. “Change? You haven’t even cut the cake.”

  “We cut the cake when you and Jaimie had a sudden need to visit the stairwell,” Kane retorted.

  Rose and Jaimie burst out laughing. Mack shrugged. “Well then, go change.”

  Kane didn’t waste time, his gaze hot as he caught Rose’s wrist and nearly ran with her in a most undignified manner for the princess and prince, exiting their own wedding.

  They barely made it inside the doorway of their home before Kane’s mouth took hers, his body pressing hers against the wall. He devoured her, a starving man bent on survival, his tongue stroking, demanding, caressing until she was breathless and so needy the dress she was wearing hurt her skin.

  “Get it off,” she pleaded. “Take it off me.”

  Kane’s hands were sure on the small pearl buttons in spite of his labored breathing. He would have been a lot faster, but Rose couldn’t help that she kept reaching behind her to stroke over the heavy bulge in his very elegant tuxedo trousers. She was nearly sobbing with need when he dropped the dress to the floor and she stepped out of it. She wore only a lace bra with low-cut cups, so that her nipples were readily available. A lace th
ong and garters and high heels had him groaning, falling to his knees, and stripping her panties away.

  She cried out, her hands going to his shoulders to steady herself as he pulled her thighs apart and plunged his tongue deep. Her entire body shuddered, went up in flames, and she nearly orgasmed right there. He ate her like candy, his desperate, greedy sounds only arousing her more. She was nearly sobbing, nails digging into him, trying to get through the immaculate shirt to his skin below.

  The sounds he was making, hot, needy, groaning with pleasure as he savored her feminine cream, all that spicy honey spilling into his mouth, had her knees going weak. She had to clutch him tightly as his tongue and teeth teased her clit and his fingers thrust inside her, stretching, invading, demanding. She couldn’t stop thrusting against his mouth, holding his head to her spread thighs, the white lace silk sliding over his face as he licked and stroked until her stomach muscles bunched and her nipples hardened into impossible peaks.

  “Kane, please.” She felt desperate, so hungry for his body she would have done anything.

  He bit down gently on her most sensitive bud, thrusting deep with his fingers, his tongue circling, and she felt herself flying apart, rocketing. She screamed, and she couldn’t remember ever doing such a thing, but she couldn’t stop the sound. His arms slipped up her hips, around her waist, holding her to keep her from falling, lowering her to the unyielding floor.

  He rose above her, stripping fast, nearly ripping the buttons off his shirt, not nearly as gentle with himself as he’d been with her, answering her long-ago worry that a husband might not find his wife who had recently given birth wildly attractive.