Ghostwalker 06 - Predatory Game
and whoever he had was trying to send the GhostWalkers on suicide missions. It was Jess’s job to find the leak in the chain of command and plug it up.
“He was there. When we operated on your legs, he was there.”
Jess felt his heart jump in his chest. The idea of Whitney walking into the hospital and observing his operation with security everywhere was just plain frightening. Lily had been there and Ryland always, always provided her with a guard.
“Are you certain?”
“I was able to hack into your file, and he has all the notes of his observations and conclusions there. He thought Eric and I did a brilliant job. He does say that while you work very hard at physical recovery, you’re neglecting the one thing that will make the bionics work and neither Eric nor I have managed to think of it. He wasn’t happy with either of us. He thinks we’re too focused on other things, me with the baby and Eric trying to play doctor to GhostWalkers.”
“What should you have told me?” Because the truth was, Peter Whitney was a brilliant man, and if they were missing something with the bionics, he’d know it.
“He mentioned your psychic abilities.You’re using physical capabilities to heal, but not mental. He notes that you should be doing exercises and imagery to form the neural pathways to map out the way from your brain to your legs.”
“I’ve been using visualization. You were the one who told me how to work on it. Whitney is full of crap.”
For the first time, Lily sent him a faint smile. “He says you’re a strong psychic and your brain is very developed, enough that you should be able to form the pathways quickly using visualization through that medium. And I agree with him. You’re using the normal part of your brain as well as physical therapy and we’re leaving out a vital part of what could springboard you to faster health. Also”—she hesitated and glanced at her husband—“he thought we should have used electrical current to stimulate the cells.”
“I’m not certain I like the speculation in your voice, Lily.”
Jess reached out and picked up the file on Saber, flipping through the photographs of her life. She looked so young, so innocent and vulnerable. It made no sense that she hadn’t touched Whitney’s protective streak. How could he look at her and not want to take care of her when she’d been such a beautiful child?
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“Jess,” Lily said. “He may be a monster, but we should consider his medical opinion on this.”
“You want to zap me to see whether or not my nerves respond?”
“Well, electrical stimulation did in fact produce results in lizards who don’t normally regenerate a tail.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Lily,” Jess said.
Several of the photographs slipped out of the folder onto the floor, sliding just out of easy reach. Jess sighed and bent down to pick them up. Saber’s hand was there first. It was the photo of her with a small chocolate dog—before and after she’d touched it.
CHAPTER 11
Saber sucked in her breath as she stared down at the photograph in her hands. A strange roaring thundered in her ears. Her heart slammed hard in her chest. There was no stopping the surge of abject humiliation. There she was at eight. Even then there were shadows in her eyes. She could see them. In the series of photographs she was smiling, playing with the dog. By the end she was crying and the dog lay in her lap, lifeless. She still woke up with her heart beating too hard and tears flooding her throat and burning her eyes at the memory of that horrible moment when she realized she had taken that life. She had killed with her touch.
For a moment she couldn’t think—or breathe. The roaring in her ears increased until her eardrums ached. He had exposed the killer in her. Murderess. Assassin. Evil. She had the touch of death. Jess Calhoun, the only person in her life she had ever truly loved, saw her for what she was.
Jess drew emotions like a magnet and hers were overwhelming. She felt so vulnerable, so ashamed, so disgusting—as if she had no right to be walking on the same earth with him. With anybody. She despised what she could do, what she had done, and for him to see it—to know it—was beyond her ability to cope.
She was vaguely aware of Jess’s telepathic touch trying to calm her, to reassure her. She’d been a child.
Whitney was the monster, not her. Whitney
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