Lethal Game

by Christine Feehan

  Cayenne nodded. “I don’t want to lie down like this. I’d rather sit.”

  “Malichai, can you sit against the headboard and let her use your knees as a backrest?” Ezekiel said, very practical, so there was no way Malichai could scramble off the bed and give his brother the bird. “Your leg up to that?”

  Ezekiel knew he could bend his leg without a problem. “Wouldn’t she feel better with Trap behind her?” he asked hopefully.

  “I need to see Trap,” Cayenne said. Again, she turned her head to look at him. “Are you okay with it?”

  Amaryllis was watching him closely. He felt her moving in him, even though she was standing beside Joe and Ezekiel, keeping the towels warm.

  “Sure, honey,” he answered Cayenne. “I’ll just be sitting here. But when he’s born, I get to see him right away, same as you.”

  “That’s a deal,” she agreed and then another even harder, longer contraction took her. Immediately her head turned back almost desperately to Trap.

  Malichai didn’t know many women stronger than Cayenne. She stood on her own two feet. She held her own always. She didn’t ask for concessions. Like Trap, he’d tended to think childbirth was something that women could do fairly easily. He was a doctor and he knew all the pitfalls, but for the most part, it was natural and therefore something one didn’t really have to worry about. Now, he was worried.

  Cayenne had gone very quiet, her eyes closing as if she were falling asleep. Definitely sliding from transition into pushing phase. Her body was resting, waiting for the next big phase.

  He was going to rethink the entire having children with Amaryllis idea. They could create a good life together without having kids. Not everyone needed them to complete their families. He had cat DNA in him. Maybe they’d get cats. Tigers. Leopards. Something big to protect his woman with him.

  “Malichai, you’ve gone a little crazy and you’re broadcasting loud.” Ezekiel’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Cayenne said suddenly, her eyes flying open as she started to sit up.

  “That’s the baby, putting pressure on you,” Trap explained. “I’m going to help you up and tilt you back so you’re up against Malichai.”

  Even as he told her, Trap’s hands were gentle on her waist, shifting her as Malichai pulled his knees back to form a backrest for Cayenne, keeping a thin blanket over his legs so she could have something soft to lean against.

  “Do you want some ice chips, baby?” Trap asked, as Amaryllis handed him a glass filled with the chips.

  Cayenne nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Her eyes met Amaryllis’s.

  Malichai couldn’t help but feel proud of his woman. She had no real knowledge of childbirth either, but she’d thought to break up ice for Cayenne.

  Suddenly, Cayenne gasped and clutched at Malichai’s leg and Trap’s arm. “I have to push. Right now.”

  Ezekiel shook his head. “Joe, take her right leg up and out of the way. Trap, her left. Drop your chin and breathe him out as you push. Focus. Don’t waste a push. Make each one count. You can do this, Cayenne. This is you and your baby. Help him get out.”

  He continued to encourage her, telling her he could see hair. The baby had a lot of dark hair with a hint of red in it. “There’s his little head. Don’t push, Cayenne. Pant for a second while I clear his mouth. Okay, push. That’s it. You have a baby. A boy. Your son has arrived and he’s looking good.”

  Joe had immediately released Cayenne’s leg and rushed around Amaryllis to get to the baby. It was his job to make certain he was breathing fine and everything looked good. Ezekiel clamped off the cord, made the cut and handed the boy to Joe.

  Cayenne and Trap both burst out laughing. Trap leaned down and kissed her. “That was amazing, sweetheart. I can’t believe you did that. He didn’t look as small as I thought he’d be.” He looked up at Ezekiel. “There was no way to see with that shield, but with everyone having multiple births, we were concerned that it was a thing with GhostWalkers.”

  Malichai’s stomach dropped. Zeke. He whispered his brother’s name into his mind.

  Ezekiel closed his eyes briefly and then glanced at Joe. Draden, Shylah, you need to get me a warmer for a preemie. I don’t care how you do it. Steal the fucking thing but get it now. We’re going to need it. We can’t take them to the hospital, that would tip Whitney off immediately. Arrange for around-the-clock care with the best neonatal nurses possible. All the equipment. We can set up in the basement. It’s the best location. Trap has the money for whatever’s needed. Joe, how’s that one doing?

  He’s fine. I’d say a nine on the Apgar. I’m guessing he’s weighing in at a five. That’s a good size. His lungs are great. This one is going to be fine. Are you certain there’s a second one?

  Malichai answered for his brother. I’m certain. All along I thought it was me, or some conspiracy plot in the bed-and-breakfast, but it was Cayenne. Even Trap thought there might be but dismissed it because he didn’t want there to be.

  Need scrubs for everyone as an explanation for why we’re here. Gives a much better cover, Joe added.

  Trap was included in the circle. All of the GhostWalkers heard the alarm with the exception of Cayenne. Very slowly Trap moved back to position himself by his wife’s head. He took her hand.

  She looked up at him, her expression darkening. “I don’t feel very good, Trap.”

  “Do you feel the need to push again?” Trap asked.

  Cayenne shook her head. “I just feel sick.”

  “Prep,” Ezekiel ordered his team. “Right now. Rubin, I need you to see past her shield to tell me what’s happening. Amaryllis, you provide as much light as possible.”

  Amaryllis didn’t argue that Joe would be the better choice. He was needed for the baby. She glanced once at Malichai as if for strength and then she placed both palms over Cayenne’s mostly flat stomach. “There’s a thin barrier here. Woven tightly.”

  “Get past it,” Ezekiel ordered tersely. He had delivered the first placenta and caught blood clots in a bowl.

  “I’m trying,” she answered, without raising her voice.

  “Don’t yell at her, Zeke,” Rubin said softly. “I see her now. She’s very small. She’s alive. Moving. She looks like she’s reaching for her brother.”

  “Direct me. I need to hear her heartbeat,” Ezekiel said.

  “No, no, more to your left. Right there. She’s turned upward so you should hear it.” Rubin fell silent to give Ezekiel the chance to listen.

  Abruptly he raised his head. “We’ll have to get her out now. Let’s go.”

  Joe wrapped the baby boy in warm towels and handed him off to Malichai. Fortunately, they had been using IVs on Malichai, so they had the equipment they needed on hand.

  Cayenne looked as if she’d gone to sleep. She had slid down in the bed and the moment Ezekiel seemed finished with her, she’d tried to turn onto her side into the fetal position.

  “Sorry, baby.” Trap bent close to her, holding her head, looking into her eyes. “Joe needs to get a line into you. There’s another baby. She’s not responding, and we need to get her out of you. Do you understand what I’m saying? They’re going to put a needle in you.”

  More than anything, Cayenne detested needles. All of them expected her to protest. She frowned. “Are you saying there’s still a baby inside me?”

  “Rubin says a girl.” Trap framed her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him.

  Malichai held her arm. Joe found Cayenne’s vein and slipped the IV in. He looked up at Trap. “She allergic to anything?”

  “Not that I know of. If she is, it wasn’t in her file anywhere.”

  “Get her under,” Ezekiel snapped. “Where the hell are Draden and Shylah with the equipment?”

  “They aren’t miracle workers,” Malichai reminded. He slid off t
he bed, pulled on a pair of drawstring jogging pants, hurriedly scrubbed and pulled on gloves. His leg protested every step he took, but that didn’t matter. The life of Trap and Cayenne’s daughter was at stake. He was an anesthesiologist and was needed. That was all that mattered. He’d specialized in several types of medicine, as had most of the GhostWalkers, but nearly all of them had gone through the rigorous schooling for an anesthesiologist. More than anything, they were often needed in the field along with surgeons.

  “Get her out,” Ezekiel repeated. “Amaryllis, I need you right here. You’re going to guide me in. I have to get through or around the silk shield and find a way to get the baby out. If I have to, I can go in through her back or side, but that’s going to have all sorts of complications.” He looked at her. “Can you do it?”

  She nodded but glanced back at Joe. “He’s probably your better bet.”

  “I need him for the baby and Rubin to shut down any heavy bleeding I won’t see around that shield.”

  “You can do this, Amaryllis,” Malichai said. He knew she could. He absolutely believed she would be able to guide Ezekiel to the infant.

  “You promised Cayenne,” Trap reminded. “You said anything she needed.”

  Malichai didn’t like the additional pressure being put on Amaryllis, but she just nodded and put both palms over Cayenne’s midsection so he kept his full attention on his patient, making certain she wouldn’t feel anything when Ezekiel had to cut her open to take the baby.

  They had nothing to give for a local that would work, so they had to put Cayenne out. In some ways, because she was so lethal if she injected her venom into anyone, and if this went wrong, which it very well could, putting her out was the better option.

  “The baby is aware, Trap. Sing to her. Talk to her. Let her know you and Cayenne and her brother are waiting for her. That she’ll be safe,” Ezekiel instructed.

  Trap had a good singing voice. He didn’t hesitate to use it. He sang to his daughter, sometimes making up the words, telling her about their home and how they were a family, how they’d been waiting for her. They had friends everywhere. People who loved her. She’d heard them talking already. She knew their voices. He went back to singing a lullaby and Ezekiel joined in. Malichai knew the words and he sang softly as well.

  “To the right,” Amaryllis whispered. “Straight. Keep that cut very straight. If you don’t, you’ll hit the silk armor and break off the tip.”

  Ezekiel had the worst job, Malichai knew. He could keep Cayenne just under the surface, safe, not feeling anything. His brother had to perform surgery without any sight. He made the incision and carefully separated the muscles to expose the uterus.

  “Now where?”

  “She’s right there, where you are. You can touch her.”

  Ezekiel glanced up at Trap. Trap nodded. Malichai tried to send his brother as much unity and goodwill as possible. Draden and Shylah came into the room, pushing a cart filled with equipment. Both wore medical gear, and they closed the door on a couple of curious guests.

  Ezekiel turned back to the job of taking the baby. He made the cut carefully, Amaryllis guiding his every movement, and then he was lifting her free, cutting the cord, handing her off to Joe.

  She was so tiny Malichai’s heart nearly stopped. How could a baby of that size possibly survive? Shylah and Draden worked fast to set up the equipment needed for the little girl.

  “Rubin,” Ezekiel said suddenly, urgency in his voice.

  Trap spun around, going from where Joe had the baby, back to his wife and the blood spilling in crimson globs onto the floor beneath the bed.

  Don’t you fucking die on me, Cayenne, Trap ordered. Rubin . . .

  “Don’t interrupt his concentration,” Ezekiel snapped.

  Trap had turned so pale, Malichai feared he was going to faint. He’d never seen Trap so shaken. Even his hands shook as he pushed his fingers continually through his hair over and over. Finally he bent close to Cayenne’s ear.

  “Baby, listen to me. I’m not much good without you. You know that. Just don’t fucking do this. Whatever Rubin is doing, let him. Just let him.”

  Hearing Trap was heart-wrenching and tore at Malichai. He knew Trap as a man who retreated into his brain, who closed himself off, who would never show emotion in front of others. Seeing him falling apart without his woman was almost too much.

  Before Ezekiel could stitch the incision, it was up to Rubin to push the clots from her womb and then clean and cauterize the walls so no excessive bleeding could continue. It wasn’t easy working blind. Even Rubin’s vision was somewhat obscured by that thick lining of silk. Amaryllis did her best to provide some vision for him, but she knew he saw differently, just as she did, and she doubted if she was helping that much.

  No one felt like talking and if they had to, they did so in whispers. Malichai paid close attention to his patient and when he finally did look up, the baby had tubes in her and she was in the little NICU. Her brother was placed close to her, but where he couldn’t tear out any of the necessary lines she needed.

  Time crawled by. There was never any hurrying Rubin. He never gave off a sense of urgency, yet Malichai knew him well. When he’d first stepped up to help Ezekiel, that strain had been there. Thankfully, it seemed to be fading. He straightened very slowly and looked at Ezekiel and then Trap. He just nodded. That was it. Once. He took a step toward the chairs and then staggered.

  Joe caught his arm and helped him to sit. Malichai cursed inwardly. He would be putting more strain on Rubin when it came to once again attempting to heal the bone in his leg.

  Ezekiel worked next, using very small stitches to meticulously close the incision he’d made to separate the muscle and wall of the uterus. He had gone around the silken shield so that was thankfully still intact.

  “I don’t want Cayenne under so long, Zeke,” he told his brother. “I’m backing her out if it’s okay with you.” He’d barely kept her just below the surface, uncertain how she would do.

  Ezekiel nodded and Trap gripped Cayenne’s hand. She stirred eventually and turned her head, suddenly vomiting. Both Malichai and Trap had been ready for that. She had a much more delicate system, as she been raised on rations and wasn’t used to most foods or drink. When she went out with everyone, she appeared to drink or eat what they did, but she almost always got rid of it because most things made her sick.

  Trap had learned that the first time he’d ever been with her. She didn’t like beer, but she appeared to drink it because everyone in the bar drank it. He’d tried to teach her that it didn’t matter what others thought, but she still always gave the appearance of fitting in. Trap had told them to offer her alternatives whenever they were with her, but if they didn’t, she always simply appeared to drink or eat with them.

  Malichai looked around his room. It looked like a hospital setting, with a portable NICU and doctors everywhere. His eyes met Amaryllis’s. They both shook their heads.

  “Malichai,” Ezekiel said softly. He once again was taking Cayenne’s blood pressure and pulse. “You aren’t supposed to be putting any weight on that leg.”

  The moment his brother pointed it out, his leg throbbed like a son of a bitch. Worse, everyone in the room stared at him. He indicated Cayenne. “I think there’s someone a little more important in my bed at the moment.”

  “Get off the leg, Malichai,” Ezekiel and Rubin ordered at the same time.

  16

  Malichai sat in the basement with Trap and Cayenne waiting for Amaryllis to finish up in the kitchen. Marie had gone with Jacy back to the Fontenots’ home in the swamps near New Orleans. They were able to fly in Trap’s very luxurious private jet, which made Jacy happy. Nonny was going to make Marie very happy, so Malichai wasn’t too worried about the two of them. He was more worried about his leg.

  Joe and Amaryllis worked on him in the morning, healing the hairline fracture
s running through the bone. He didn’t say a word to either of them, but all day, his leg ached, and he hadn’t done much at all. The basement had been transformed into a mini-hospital, with a bed for Cayenne and the little units for the babies. They had nurses to help, but since Malichai had been forbidden to help Amaryllis around the bed-and-breakfast, and he couldn’t stand watching her do all the work, he’d been in the basement, helping Trap and Cayenne with their babies, specifically the little girl. They still hadn’t named her. He wanted them to. He felt that the child was aware of everything happening to her.

  She was the daughter of two GhostWalkers, two very intelligent, psychically and physically enhanced GhostWalkers. She seemed alert and aware of her surroundings and of everything happening to her. She was cooperative, especially when he spoke softly to her and let her know why he was doing certain things to her. Why she needed the breathing tubes. Why her lungs weren’t quite developed, but the shot would help.

  Her brother was now named Axel, and Malichai knew the baby was pleased with his name. He should be. Axel had been one of the few men Trap respected. He’d died in the field, saving his fellow Marines and a few of the GhostWalkers who were working on wounded. Trap had been one of those men. Malichai another. Axel was a good, strong name. But the little girl needed a name.

  “Trap, what are you waiting for?” he demanded.

  Cayenne cradled their little daughter to her protectively. She looked at her husband, but she didn’t say anything. Malichai didn’t expect her to. Amaryllis would have a lot to say, but Cayenne mostly went along with Trap.

  “Waiting for all those tubes to be gone,” Trap said gruffly.

  “Well, stop waiting, she doesn’t like it,” Malichai informed him.

  Trap turned around slowly. He was pacing up and down the length of the basement, Axel in his arms. “What do you mean, she doesn’t like it?”