Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

was frowning, shaking her head. "Something is just a little off kilter, Kadan. I need to get stronger impressions. I need to actually handle it."

    "With gloves."

    "I won't get what we want. You said we'd have to solve this fast. I know your friends didn't do this, but whoever wants all of you dead is going to use the murders as an opportunity to get rid of them. By the time the real murderers are found, it will be too late."

    He didn't want her pulling off the gloves. She'd be annihilated by the violent ener y g . He
    could feel waves pushing at her mind, and she merely had her hands close to the game piece.

    "We need to know."

    He pulled her off the chair and sat down. "Sit on my lap."

    "Kadan." It was a protest. She frowned at him, pushing at the long blond hair falling around her face. "What are you doing?"

    "Protecting you. Sit on me. I'm going to keep my arms around you, my hands on your wrists. If I tell you to drop that thing and you don't, I'll be in a better position to force it out of your hand. We both know this is dangerous to you."

    "I don't know if I can concentrate like that."

    Kadan shrugged. "Take it or leave it, but you aren't touching that thing without me surrounding you with as much protection as I can give you."

    He had that tone again. Tansy sighed. There was no moving him from his position when he used that tone. Very slowly, breathing deep, she removed the protective barrier of the gloves. She sank down onto his lap and his arms immediately circled her, his hands resting lightly over hers, which gave her added confidence.

    She cupped her bare hands around the ivory knife. The energy swarmed to her, violent, almost angry. Smug.Superior . Oily sludge poured into her brain, dripping with blood, with the need for more blood. Beneath the muck, hidden, she found that small vein that ran under, nearly overwhelmed with the dominant strand, but flowing subtly, a monster at work behind the scenes.

    She took a breath and worked at separating the two threads. Blade needed followers, needed them to see him dominate every situation. He looked for fights. Wanted others to ABC Amber LIT Converter
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    argue so he could hurt and frighten them in front of others. He was cruel to his girlfriends and those who loved him, usually subtle cruelties, but he enjoyed the pain in their eyes—
    and the fear. Ridiculing others and making them look small in front of his friends was a favorite pastime.

    Distaste. Smug satisfaction that someday… She almost had the puppet master, but Blade wouldn't give up the spotlight. Something important eluded her as it moved by. She couldn't focus properly because the violence in Blade was his primary characteristic.

    More oily sludge coated her mind as he pushed deeper into her brain, determined to imprint himself there when she was really loo i
    k ng for the more subtle thread. Looking
    big mattered to him, almost more than anything else. He despised having to salute. He wanted to take out some of the officers and their families. He fantasized about it all the time.

    The son of a bitch who wrote him up for beating the crap out of the stupid private that dared to contradict him. Yeah, he wanted to show Officer Showoff just who really was in charge. Damn the rules of the game. He'd agreed to them, but no one would know if he spent a few hours carving Mr. Officer up. Of course, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun if the others didn't know what he was doing.

    Another voice began to rise, one she couldn't push down. A woman, pleading. Begging.
    Stirring Blade to further action.

    He loved the begging. The victim had no idea she was rousing him to further acts of torture for his own pleasure, and Tansy had no way of warning her.

    Shut up bitch. Stop sniveling. Whiny, stupid bitch. Of course I'm going to kill you. I'm going to gut you and leave you hanging on a meat hook in the cooler. What did you think I wanted with you? Your fancy jewelry? Your grotesque body? No, I want you dead. But don't worry, you'll be like one of those fine fat pigs your family slaughters and butchers; I'll leave you hanging there for the world to see. Or maybe your husband will carve you up and sell you to the markets to make a few extra bucks.

    Blade laughed, the sound wholly evil, and Tansy's stomach lurched. She would have problems getting his vile imprint out of her head. The stain was thick