Viper Game

by Christine Feehan

  Wyatt continued to stare down at them, his mind suddenly putting pieces together. Pepper had an immunity to cobra bites. Cobras couldn't kill one another. She'd said the doctors were trying to build her immunity to snakebites and develop an antivenom that could be used for the soldiers. She hadn't specified which snakebite though. She was already immune to the cobra bite. It had been the viper venom that had made her so ill.

  "She's your daughter," he said aloud.

  Pepper frowned at him. "I consider her my daughter, but I've never given birth, which is required for what I think you're talking about. I'd claim her if she was mine."

  He shook his head. "Not if they used your eggs, which, believe me, honey, if Whitney is involved, he collects such things from anythin' or anyone GhostWalker."

  Wyatt couldn't keep the note of bitterness out of his voice. He'd been deceived when he'd gone into the program. Whitney was supposed to have been long gone, on the run, a man wanted by the military to answer for the crimes he'd committed. That wasn't exactly the case. Someone high up was protecting him and aiding him in his experiments. Whitney still worked for the government, he was just far more covert.

  Pepper studied Ginger's face, the little hands and the mop of hair. There was no horror on her face, if anything, she examined the baby with a hint of eagerness. "Maybe a little. It would be absolutely wonderful, a miracle, if that were the case, because I intend to take care of all three of them, to be their mother. They need one. But you might take another good look at her, Wyatt. She looks more like you than she does me."

  Wyatt stared down at the child.

  "Not to mention, you're the genius," Pepper pointed out.

  His eyebrow shot up. "And you're not? I guess babies all look alike." He shrugged. "Does she need to be changed?"

  "She uses the bathroom like a big girl. She'll sign like this." Pepper closed her fist and shook it. "If you give her a little step, she can make it on her own."

  "How did she break into the room when it was locked?" Wyatt asked.

  "All three acquired the skill of picking locks at a very early age."

  He laughed and teased one of the waves on Ginger's hair into a corkscrew curl. "We did that too, when we were little. All of us. Gator was the instigator. He taught us, I think. I don' really remember, but Nonny said we were barely walkin' when we started gettin' into trouble."

  He kept his mind as blank as possible, which took a tremendous amount of discipline considering the thoughts running through his head. He could feel Pepper's pain beating at him. She was worried too, probably about the other two babies left behind in the laboratory. He found it strange that they were still so connected that without merging his mind or using telepathic communication, he could feel her emotions - and if he could feel hers, did that mean she could feel his?

  He used telepathic communication with the other GhostWalkers often, and never once had he been able to feel their emotions - he could guess, maybe, but not actually feel them. His body ached everywhere. His muscles and joints screamed at him and always, in the back of his mind was the pressing worry that they were running out of time. That was all Pepper - not him.

  The last thing he wanted at that moment was for her to catch one single thought swirling around in his brain. He kept his expression as pleasant and calm as possible. He was a doctor and a GhostWalker. He could be stone if needed.

  "You need more painkillers this mornin', Pepper," he said.

  She shook her head. "I have to have a clear mind. I need to get on my feet."

  "No, you need to stay right where you are. I'm the doctor, remember? Ginger can look after you while I help Nonny with breakfast, and then you can give us a detailed layout of the laboratory along with how many guards and where they are. You must have studied their routine."

  She nodded. "We were sent here about two months ago. I snuck out a lot and studied the bayou and swamp. I knew what that place was the moment I entered it. I knew I didn't have much time to get the children out of there."

  "I'll go help Nonny with the food. Ginger, I'm countin' on you to watch her. She needs to rest. I won' be long." He had something important to do. Very important. Because he was a smart man who'd done a very stupid thing, and he had the feeling others were suffering the consequences.

  Pepper reached out and caught his hand, moving faster than he would have expected, knowing the pain running through every muscle in her body. The moment her skin touched his, he felt the shiver run through her body. The same electrical current rushed through his veins.

  "What is it, Wyatt?"

  "Nothin' at all, honey. You just rest." He tugged until she let go of him. He had to check. When he got feelings, strong ones, he was rarely wrong, and the feeling was strong enough to put knots in his belly.

  He slipped out of the bedroom and hurried down the hall to the staircase leading up to his grandmother's room. The pictures were there, lining the wall. He took the stairs slowly, studying each photograph of himself. With each stair he climbed, he grew younger, until he found himself face-to-face with a little boy not more than a year and a half. His hair was dark and wavy, a thick pelt that refused to be tamed. Dark eyes stared back at him, and right there on his right cheek was that tiny little dimple he'd noticed on Ginger.

  His stomach lurched. The baby picture could have been of Ginger. They looked identical. The child wasn't Pepper's; she was his. Whitney had used him to father a child - not one, but three. Something terrible had gone wrong with his experiment and he'd sent the children to the bayou - straight to Wyatt's backyard. Why? What was the man up to? This was no coincidence.

  Nonny knew. She probably had known the moment she laid eyes on the child. She'd been insistent that she was safe with the baby and that she wouldn't allow Wyatt to keep Ginger from her. He should have known right then that something wasn't right. It was unlike Nonny to fight him over something they both knew wasn't safe.

  He sank down slowly onto the stair and scrubbed his hand over his face. That baby - that little viper - was his daughter. His. He didn't need a paternity test to tell him the truth. Hell. The picture on the wall might as well have been of her.

  "Wyatt?" Nonny sat down beside him right there at the top of the stairs. She gestured toward the picture. "You know then."

  "You saw it right away, didn' you, Grand-mere?"

  She put her hand on his shoulder. "I don' know what's goin' on, how that child came to be like she is, or where she came from, but she's a Fontenot. There's no denyin' it."

  "There's two more, Nonny, at that laboratory, and they plan on killin' them because they're dangerous."

  She sucked in her breath and gripped his arm. "But you aren' gonna let that happen, right, Wyatt?"

  He shook his head. "I wasn' about to let it happen before I knew they were mine." He straightened his shoulders and made himself look into those old, beloved eyes. "I'm sorry, Nonny, for bein' so damned stupid. Gator told me about the program he'd joined and, of course, we both know what Whitney did to Flame, givin' her cancer an all, so I should have known better than to join too."

  "You joined because the three of you boys always followed Gator's lead," Nonny said, her voice matter-of-fact. "If he did somethin', you boys were sure you could do it as well. Never did mind what it was or iffin it was good for you."

  Wyatt closed his eyes briefly. It didn't much matter how he'd gotten himself into trouble - it was already done. Three children had been created without his permission or knowledge, but they were still children - and there wasn't a doubt in his mind they were his. Not Pepper's or his other brothers'. His.

  "The woman, Pepper," Nonny said. "The baby looks like her too, something in her eyes. Do you suppose she's the mother?"

  He shrugged, rolling his shoulders as if he could shrug away the entire mess. "I have no idea. She thinks and acts like their mother, but she's like me. If she's the biological mother, she wasn't told. I think the resemblance is there, but maybe I didn't want to see the resemblance to me."

&
nbsp; "My breakfast is goin' to burn. Malichai is tendin' to it. He says he knows his way around a kitchen, but I wasn' so certain. The first thin' he did was grab my apron and put it on. Then he sorta stood there in the center of the room and turned in circles." She gave a little Fontenot smirk. "I done asked him if it was some kinda ritual he did before he started his work."

  "And he said?" Wyatt prompted.

  Nonny laughed softly. "He said, yes ma'am, jist as purty as you please. I snapped the tea towel at him."

  Wyatt winced on Malichai's behalf. Nonny was hell on wheels with a tea towel. He'd been a recipient more than once of that snapping bite. She was accurate and deadly with the weapon and could raise a welt if she desired.

  "That boy done said he had a gun on him, so I gave him a little taste of what it was like to threaten his helpless grand-mere."

  There it was. The reason he was the luckiest man on Earth, no matter what was happening. He had Nonny. He'd always had her. He had his family. His brothers. They'd come a running if he called for them. Wyatt began to laugh with her. The idea of his petite grandmother chasing Malichai around the kitchen with her tea towel was just too funny.

  "Helpless, Nonny? You're a holy terror."

  "Let's eat, son. We'll figure the rest out on a full stomach."

  Wyatt stood and reached down to help his grandmother up. He hugged her close, inhaling the scent of fresh food that always signaled home to him. "Let's go rescue breakfast, Nonny. I'm surprised you left Malichai alone with the food. There won't be much left if we don' go rescue it."

  She hugged him back hard and then turned and rushed down the stairs, raising her voice. "Malichai Fortunes, don' you be eatin' before we sit down and give thanks to the good Lord."

  "I was tasting, not eating," Malichai called back. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head, Grand-mere? Every cook has got to taste his food."

  "If you did the cookin' I might believe you, boy, but I did the cookin' and you keep doin' the tastin'."

  Ezekiel stood just inside the kitchen laughing as Nonny chased Malichai out of the room with her tea towel. "I'm sorry about my brother's manners, ma'am. He was raised a heathen, and I suppose there's no changing him."

  "I'll cut me a switch out of that tree in the backyard," Nonny threatened. "Ezekiel, you did good with the boy. He just loves his food a little too much."

  Malichai swept his arm around Nonny, sneaking up on her from behind. "Is there really such a thing as loving food too much, Grand-mere? Especially when you're the one who did the cooking?"

  He kissed her on the cheek. "Watching you cook is a thing of beauty."

  "I'll admit that's true," Wyatt said. He picked up the food warmers and took them to the table.

  "Wyatt, bring down the wooden high chair from the attic. It's right in front covered with an old sheet. Ginger will need it," Nonny instructed.

  "I need to check on Pepper. Ezekiel, do you mind getting the chair?" Wyatt cleared his throat. "While you're at it, take a good look at the photograph on the wall at the top of the stairs."

  Ezekiel sent him a sharp look. "I looked last night."

  Wyatt let out his breath. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding it. His gaze shifted to Malichai. Of course Ezekiel would share information with his brother. He read knowledge in Malichai's eyes.

  "Puts a whole different light on things," Malichai said. "We'll get those kids out of there, Wyatt."

  "Thanks." He felt humble.

  He was more than lucky to have such good friends, who knew they'd be risking their lives, but didn't hesitate. And Nonny; who had a grandmother who wouldn't hesitate to accept children who had lethal bites? He would have to consider how to minimize the risk to her. He couldn't overlook the fact that an accidental bite from one of the babies could kill. He definitely would have to cap their teeth as an interim solution.

  And what the hell was Whitney's end game? There had to be one. This was no coincidence. Had the attack on his grandmother been orchestrated in order for her to call one of her sons home? Had Whitney known all his brothers were out of the country? That was a possibility, but how could he know Wyatt and the others were wounded? He couldn't have orchestrated that event. Or could he have? It was odd that his team had been ambushed the way they had. Could Whitney have been behind that?

  What had Pepper said? She'd arrived at the laboratory two months earlier with the three children. Two months. Why had they waited two full months before issuing termination orders on the babies?

  He stalked back to the bedroom. He could hear the baby laughing as she blew strawberries against Pepper's neck. The moment he stepped into the room, he felt the love Pepper surrounded the child with. He also felt pain beating at her. Leaning one hip against the doorjamb, he studied the two of them. He knew they were aware of his presence. How could they not be? They were both GhostWalkers.

  "Ginger, I hope you're hungry," he greeted softly. "Nonny has fixed breakfast and it looks wonderful. Go on into the kitchen and eat. I'll be right in. Nonny will help you."

  The child looked at Pepper. He couldn't feel the shift in energy, but they definitely communicated with one another. Ginger slipped off the bed and hurried out of the room, running on her little bare feet. He'd wanted to get a good look at her feet and made a mental note to examine them soon.

  "When were the orders to terminate the children given?"

  "About three weeks ago." Pepper turned her head to look up at him. "Why?"

  Wyatt sighed. He didn't know this woman. Could she be part of a conspiracy? She looked innocent enough. Beguiling was more like it. She'd already admitted to him she was made to be a seductress for Whitney.

  "Where were you and the children before you came here?"

  "In France. At a laboratory in France."

  "Yet you speak excellent English. Your accent is flawless."

  "I speak several languages." Pepper struggled into a sitting position, clenching her teeth when pain beat at her. "Why? What's wrong?"

  He felt the same pain, a blow to his system, and had to breathe deep until he could accept and absorb it as she was doing. He steeled himself to interrogate her. He had to be certain before he put his team and his family in danger.

  "What's wrong is this all seems like an enormous coincidence to me. When did you first meet the children?"

  She frowned at him and lifted a hand to push back the stray tendrils of hair tumbling around her face. The action lifted her breasts, immediately drawing attention to her body. He detested that his body reacted to her. That made him suspicious as well. He was a doctor, and he had both control and discipline. He'd never had a problem looking at female patients in his life. Not ever. Not once. Until Pepper.

  Now, all of a sudden, he couldn't get this woman out of his mind. He wanted to keep her. Make her his own. Keep her. Make it permanent. Hell. What was wrong with him? The driving need seemed to be so strong, he felt primitive when he was around her. Caveman primitive. He'd always been dominant, but he had never been jealous, not even of Joy when he stupidly and mistakenly thought he was in love with her. But this one... Pepper. He didn't want his own friends coming near her.

  "I think they were born in the same laboratory where I was kept. I was put in charge of caring for them when they were about three months old. I didn't mind. I didn't have a family, and I loved spending time with them. I was told when their teeth came in they might be dangerous but that I was immune to the venom." She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "They neglected to tell me all three babies carried both types of venom and I wasn't yet immune to viper venom."

  "And that's what they were trying to do with you? Create an antidote to either of the two types of snakebites? A universal donor, so to speak."

  She nodded slowly, her strange eyes moving over his face. "Yes. Without causing so many allergic reactions. But then suddenly, after my fight with Braden, we were told we were being moved."

  "Right after?"

  She wasn't lying to him. He knew the truth
when he heard it. Every small nuance of her voice, every tone, every breathy sound, connected to him.

  "No. It was a few weeks later. Suddenly. Almost out of the blue. We boarded a private jet. The company, Wilson Plastics, has their own corporate jet. They flew us to a military base and then brought us here. That was just over two months ago."

  "And yet they didn't issue termination orders until a couple of weeks ago."

  She nodded again, her gaze never leaving his face. "That's correct, although I knew what that place was. I didn't know why suddenly they would want to get rid of us. I actually thought it was me they were going to terminate. I wasn't cooperating with them. They wanted to use me to assassinate someone and I refused."

  "Who?"

  "A sergeant major in the Marine Corps. He's a good man, at least when I did some research on him, he appeared to be. He's married, and they told me it would be difficult to get him to have an affair with me. They could get me in to work in his office, and I was to take it from there."

  "Which sergeant major?"

  "His name was Sergeant Major Theodore Griffen."

  Wyatt stiffened. Sergeant Major Theodore Griffen ran one of the GhostWalker teams. He sighed and shook his head. "Why would they allow you to research this man if they knew you had scruples? Why not just send you off, spinnin' a story about how he's sellin' out his country?"

  "I don't know." At his piercing look she shook her head. "I swear to you, I don't know."

  "Did you know those three children are my children?" He watched her face carefully. If she had known, she was a damned good actress. Her face was a total mask of shock. "This mornin', right on that bed, you casually said Ginger looked more like me than you."

  "Yes, but that's because you asked if she was mine. You said she looked like me and I just pointed out that she looked like both of us..." She trailed off, inhaling deeply. Her face went pale, more than pale; stark white.

  Pepper felt her heart go crazy. Hammering. Hard. Her lungs burned, refused to draw in air properly. He stood over her, intimidating when men didn't intimidate her. Tempting when men didn't tempt her. Beautiful when men shouldn't be beautiful, and he was telling her the three little girls she loved so dearly could very well be their children. His. Hers. Theirs. A tidal wave rolled over her stomach and she shook her head.