Shadow Game (GhostWalkers)

by Christine Feehan

  They aren’t taking their assignment seriously. My best guess, Rye, they’re here to watch the woman. They have no idea we’re here and they sure don’t think we’re coming.

  It’s a go then. Signal when you have a clear. I’m sending Tucker out with Jeff. Sam’s got their back. Ian’s the driver. The rest of us will control the watchers.

  They’re susceptible. They’re bored and not on high alert. I don’t think we’ll have too much trouble. Tell Tuck to come a-running.

  “We’re good to go, Jeff,” Ryland said gently. He nodded toward Tucker. “Kyle and Jonas will go out ahead of you. Nico’s waiting. We know they’re out there, we know they’re watching, but they can’t know we’re here. This is the real thing. Walk like the ghosts you are and get through their lines. We’ll meet up at the doc’s house. You stand fast until we check it out once we’re there. Your only responsibility is to keep Jeff and yourselves alive. If the place is hot, pull out immediately and come back here. Watch your back trail.”

  He stood looking at them for a long moment. “Remember, all of these people, soldiers, civilians, all of them, think we’re escapees, that we’ve committed crimes. Unless your life or the lives of this team are in danger, do not use maximum force.”

  Ryland gestured and signaled Kyle and Jonas. Both gripped Hollister’s shoulder hard then followed Ryland from the room, heading quickly for the tunnel. It had been a long day, watching over Jeff, worrying about him, seeing the damage to his right side, but unable to do anything to help him. They had waited for the sun to go down and the darkness to spread. Their time. When ghosts were able to walk. At last they could actively do something.

  Once the day staff was gone, they were able to move more freely without fear of discovery. They had all the technology available to them, but it would never take the place of their belief in themselves.

  Ryland went out of the tunnel first, moving quickly, silently, slipping through the darkness, keeping to the shadows. He could feel the surge of energy building as the men began to project, whispering into the night, telling the guards to look at the stars, to see the beauty of the night. To be blind to movement and sound. To look the other way as Ryland signaled Tucker and Sam to bring Jeff Hollister out.

  Tucker was as large as a tree trunk, carrying Jeff protectively cradled against his massive chest. Jeff was no small man, but he looked a child beside Tucker’s bulging muscles. For a big man, Tucker Addison moved like the ghost he was, gliding over the uneven terrain without a sound. Sam kept pace behind them, his eyes moving restlessly, constantly, seeking out the watchers, his weapon in his fist.

  Ryland directed the guards away from the path in the woods Tucker needed to take in order to rendezvous with Ian and the car. Ryland led the way, shifting toward the most resistant of the guards. He concentrated on “pushing” the man harder, planting the urgent need to converse with his partner. Ryland dropped to his belly and scooted closer to the guard. He was reacting to the mental push by rubbing his head, shaking it as if his head needed clearing. The guard began to pace restlessly back and forth, pressing his fingers to his eyes.

  Ryland held up his hand, signaling Tucker to melt into the shadows with his burden.

  I’m dropping back to cover you, Nicolas reported.

  You get them away safely, Ryland ordered. Stay on Jeff. He closed the distance to the guard so that he lay only a scant few feet from the man. He gathered his energy, his strength. It had to look like an accident, a believable accident. Ryland whispered a prayer asking for forgiveness if anything went wrong.

  Two kids coming. Teenagers, Nicolas informed him.

  Ryland let his breath out slowly, relief spreading. Allowed his muscles to relax. Use them. Send them this way, right up to the guard. They can create our diversion. He concentrated on the connection, building the bridge to the young boys sneaking through the woods with a flashlight and pellet guns. They changed direction immediately, highly susceptible to the waves of energy prodding them.

  The guard swung around alertly as the boys laughed loudly together at a joke one of them told. His light blasted the two boys in the face, temporarily blinding them. The guard’s back was to Tucker and the others. Ryland signaled them forward as he began his own retreat, moving cautiously away from the guard, staying low and using the bursts of conversation as cover.

  Tucker moved through the woods quickly, staying to the shadows, deep in the trees, somehow even in the darkest sections, avoiding twigs and leaves that would give him away. Sam ran parallel with Tucker and Jeff, keeping his body between the two of them and the guards.

  They’re away. Ian’s got them. Clear out, Rye. Ian had removed the dome light from the truck so Tucker and Sam could put Jeff in carefully without the glow of the overhead light to give them away.

  Nicolas slid into a car beside Kaden, who pulled away from the curb before the door was closed. We’re away. We’re away.

  Ryland signaled Kyle and Jonas ahead of him, and dropped back to protect his men as they hurried out of the wooded area. Behind them, the guard was still haranguing the two teenage boys, firing questions at them with the deliberate intention of scaring them.

  Ryland was the last man in the third vehicle, urging Kyle to get moving even before he was fully in the car. They were careful to obey every traffic law, not wanting to take the chance of a police officer pulling them over. Dr. Brandon Adams’s house was several miles from the Whitney estate. It was a large beautiful house surrounded by manicured lawns and wrought-iron fences.

  Kyle cruised by, went nearly a mile down the road, turned around, and drove past the estate again. He slowed enough to allow Ryland and Jonas to slip out before cruising past a second time. He found a small turnout just beyond the house and parked the car beneath the sweeping tree branches. Ryland and Jonas were already scouting, spreading out to cover more ground. Nicolas and Kaden circled the estate from the other side.

  Ian? You have any bad feelings you’d like to tell us about?

  No. I say it’s a go.

  Ryland made the sweep with the same thoroughness he applied to every task. They circled the house, taking their time, checking every position where someone could be lying in wait to ambush them. No one was anywhere near the house. Kaden and Nicolas went up and over the high railing surrounding the wide porch. Kaden continued up the side of the house, gaining entrance through a second-story window. Nicolas went in on the bottom floor through the back. Ryland went in through a sliding glass door. The lock was a joke.

  He moved through the rooms, getting a feel for the house. It was empty, just as Adams had told Lily it would be. He could hear the doctor moving around upstairs.

  Clear. Kaden reported.

  Clear. Nicolas added.

  Bring him in. Ryland moved into position behind the stairs. The doorbell pealed melodiously. A tall, thin man hurried down the stairs. He was dressed in charcoal slacks and a white shirt, both of which screamed money. He opened the door without hesitation. Tucker didn’t wait for an invitation, but carried Jeff inside. Sam and Ian followed, closing the door behind them and casually locking it.

  “Bring him into the back. I recently closed my small clinic so I have all the equipment we need on hand.” The doctor led the way through the spacious rooms. “I’ve prepared a room at the very back of the house and I gave my staff a few days off. Lily said to get him back to her as soon as possible.”

  “Did she tell you we’d be staying?” Ian asked. “We’ll take turns sitting up with him.”

  “Suit yourself, but I doubt if that will be necessary. I think he’ll do fine.”

  The room was large and airy with a tremendous view. Ian walked over and pulled the heavy drapes. Sam opened the closets and all adjoining doors. “It’s very necessary, Doc, but don’t worry, we won’t get in your way. We’re self-sufficient,” Ian said as he put his pack on the table. “We brought our own rations.”

  Lily had made certain to send along more than enough food when she heard the men were going
to be staying. She had also insisted they keep working on their exercises.

  “We’d like to secure the house,” Ian said.

  The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Your locks are standard issue,” Sam pointed out. “A child could break in.”

  “I have a dead bolt on the front and back doors.” The doctor was not really paying attention to the conversation. He bent over Jeff Hollister, leaning close to peer into his eyes. His voice was unconcerned. Dr. Adams had no interest at all in the subject of security.

  “You don’t mind if we beef up your security, do you, Doc?” Sam asked.

  Adams waved his hand vaguely. “Do whatever you feel you need to.”

  The knots in Ryland’s stomach loosened. Dr. Brandon Adams had a mind similar to Lily’s. She understood him. He was interested only in his subject. Not Jeff Hollister, only his brain and what it could reveal to him.

  It’s all yours, Nico. We’re clearing out.

  Ryland gave the signal to the others and they left the house with the same stealth they’d used when entering. The doctor never knew they had even been there.

  THIRTEEN

  THE house was still being watched. Arly had security guards patrolling, but the men hiding in the shadows were no civilians. Ryland was uneasy having his team split. And he was disturbed over Lily. He had reached out to her over and over in the last few hours, but she hadn’t responded. He hadn’t realized how much he counted on that connection between them and it was disturbing that he couldn’t touch her. Once he had gotten Jeff Hollister to safety, he had concentrated on Lily, but he had been unable to establish any kind of bridge.

  Throughout the long afternoon and evening, Ryland had become increasingly worried. Ian had come to him twice, saying he “felt” danger but couldn’t say why. Ryland tried to put it down to the obviously military team guarding the house. It didn’t help that he couldn’t touch Lily.

  Frowning, Ryland moved as a GhostWalker, slipping through the lines to get a fix on the positions of their enemy. Once a radio crackled, the sound loud in the crisp night air. A guard lit a cigarette, shielding the red glow with his hand, but the smell floated on the wind. Ryland watched them for some time, observing their boredom. The night was going to be long and cold for the watchers.

  Finally. He saw the headlights and then Lily’s car come up the winding drive. She was home and his world was right again. The day had been far too long, his heart pounding in his throat every time he thought of her alone at Donovans. Those people had managed to murder her father, and Ryland feared, as time went by and they could find no trace of the GhostWalkers, Higgens would begin to panic.

  Satisfied, Ryland moved like the wind, silent, deadly. He blended into the mottled patterns of the trees and shrubbery along the high fence line. Arly had told them the fence was wired with sensors and throughout the grounds motion detectors crisscrossed the area. He gained the treeline just behind the estate, using the larger tree trunks as cover as he moved into deeper woods. Ryland slipped easily past two guards holding a bored conversation near the entrance to the closest tunnel.

  The long-stemmed rose he held in his hand was devoid of thorns, he had seen to it personally. He wished he had dozens of them for Lily, but he had done the most he’d felt it safe to do. Bypassing security, he had entered a flower shop on his way back from seeing Jeff, and left the money for the single perfect rose on the counter to be found by a puzzled employee. He didn’t think taking a dozen would have allowed him to sneak past the watchers unnoticed.

  Ryland went swiftly through the twists and turns in the narrow tunnel. The passageway came out in the upper halls. The day staff was long gone. Even so, he went through the door cautiously, ready for anything, all senses alert. Darkness greeted him. Even the night-lights were off. It didn’t matter; he moved unerringly toward his goal.

  Ryland went from shadow to shadow, gliding through the enormous house quickly. He found himself directly under the staircase leading to the upper stories and the wing of the house where his men were waiting. He walked up the stairs but veered to the right, toward Lily’s private quarters.

  Standing just inside her bedroom, the sound hit him first. Soft. Muted. Lily, his Lily, was weeping. He stopped moving, so shaken he trembled. The sound of it tore out his heart. His fingers curled around the rose, a tight fist against such a wrong. He drew a deep breath of air into his lungs, held it, let it out slowly. Her crying was almost more than he could bear. It made him weak and it turned his insides to mush. He reminded himself every day it was a loss of control, not very macho for a Special Forces man, and most of all that Peter Whitney might really have manipulated him in some way, but none of it seemed to matter.

  More than anything he respected courage and integrity and loyalty, all of which Lily had in abundance. Not wanting to startle her, Ryland eased his way close. “Lily,” he said her name softly, tenderly, with a blend of heat and smoke.

  Lily’s gasp was audible. She buried her face in the pillow, turning away from him, humiliated to be caught in such a vulnerable moment. “What are you doing here, Ryland? Arly told me you were gone, that you had gone to check on Jeff.” There was an edge to her voice. He heard it in spite of the sound being muffled by the pillow.

  “Lily, you weren’t worried about me, were you? You can’t be crying because you were afraid for me.” The idea alarmed and pleased him at the same time. He reached for the bedside lamp.

  “No.” She caught his wrist to stop him. “Please don’t.”

  Ryland stood for a moment hesitating, unsure how to handle her mood. He brushed the velvet flower petals along her tear-wet cheek before laying the rose carefully on the pillow beside her.

  Lily shivered with awareness, turned her head to look at the rose, then shifted her gaze to his face. There was so much sorrow in her blue eyes it beat at him, weakened him. “I’m so sorry about your father, Lily, I know how much he meant to you.” He sat on the edge of her bed, carefully removed his shoes, and then dropped his shirt on the floor beside the bed. Very slowly, so as not to alarm her, he stretched his length out beside her. With infinite gentleness he pulled her into his arms. “Let me hold you, honey, just comfort you. That’s all I want to do right now. I never want you to cry like this again.”

  Lily burrowed close to him, buried her face against his broad chest, her body relaxing into the shelter of his. She put her mouth against his ear, her breath warm on his skin. “It isn’t my father, Ryland. It’s everything. A moment of weakness. Nothing.”

  Something in her voice warned him. Everything male and warrior deep inside him went still. Waited. He inhaled sharply and smelled…blood. “What the hell?” His hands tightened possessively. “What happened to you? Where are you hurt?”

  Lily clung to him. “I was in my father’s office, looking around, and I found a small voice-activated recorder. Someone came in and hit me hard. I fell backward and they nailed me again as I was going down. They took the recorder.”

  He stiffened, a tremor running through his body. Rage was swift, volcanic. He swore very softly beneath his breath. “I’m going to light a candle and look at you. How bad were you hurt and where the hell were those idiot security guards?” He hissed the question at her.

  When she didn’t answer, Ryland reached around her to find the matches on her nightstand. The flare was small, a soft hissing as he lit the aromatic candle. He dropped the match in the holder and caught her chin firmly in his hand, turning her face this way and that inspecting the damage. His gut tightened; something very dangerous welling up deep inside him roared for release.

  “Damn it, Lily, did you see who did this?” he persisted.

  “I was just turning when he hit me. I had a brief impression of him and then I was on the floor.” She traced his frown with the pad of her finger. “I’m fine, a little stiff, but I’ll live.”

  His hands moved over her head. He felt a large bump near her temple and she winced when the pads
of his fingers gently examined her.

  A dark, predatory expression crossed his face, shimmered in the depths of his eyes, a menacing threat that caused her to shiver. At once he leaned forward to brush her temple and cheek with the warmth of his mouth. “You were supposed to have guards at Donovans. Where the hell were those useless guards? Where were they when all this was happening? Why weren’t they watching over you? I should never have allowed you to go back there. Damn it, I’m a military officer, and I let a civilian go unprotected into a dangerous situation.” He let her go—Lily—and she was hurt.

  His voice was so beautiful it seeped through her pores deep into her body. As always it moved her as nothing else could. Somehow her head throbbed less with his concern. She touched his face gently, wanting to soothe him. “You know it was my decision alone and no one could have stopped me.” When she felt him stiffen, she hastily continued. “An alarm went off. The guards ran to see if security had been breached,” Lily said tiredly.

  She lay back, settling closer to the warmth of his body without being fully conscious of doing so. “When I first went in this morning, Colonel Higgens met me and walked me to my office. Phillip Thornton joined us there and they told me they wanted me to have military guards because they were afraid you might attempt to kidnap me. They implied you may have been the one to attack me.”

  There was a small silence until he could swallow his anger. Both men knew he wouldn’t hurt a woman.

  Deliberately his white teeth flashed, a wicked smile that had his eyes glittering silver. “Kidnapping you has a very erotic side to it,” he teased.

  A small answering smile curved her soft, trembling mouth in spite of the attack. “You’re so outrageous, Ryland. Only you would think of something so kinky.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “I like kinky, honey, when you’re involved.” His teeth teased her earlobe.

  “More interesting things to look forward to.” Despite her game attempt to smile, she sounded infinitely weary.