Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

love, hot and sweet and fierce, just the way he was kissing her.

    He gave the killers and the victims no chance to settle anywhere, sweeping them aside and staking his claim. Her lashes fluttered, and when he lifted her head, the color was back to violet, the opaque veil gone. He kissed her again.

    "We did it." There was a smear of blood by her nose. He removed it with the pad of his finger. "You picked up a lot even through the gloves." Her body was trembling and she still seemed far away, but he'd brought her out of the trance and pushed the killers from her mind. "Let's get you into the other room. You're going to need your headache medicine."

    She shook her head, her fingers tightening on his arm. "No. I have to go after another one. I want the one with the faintest impressions. I have to do it now."

    h
    S e was swaying with weariness, and he could already feel the beginnings of the headache beating at her. They hadn't even debriefed the first game piece or talked about the puppet master. And Kadan sure as hell wasn't going to let her anywhere near that bastard. "It's too soon. You're exhausted and drained."

    "Exactly. He'll believe I can't do it again so soon. He won't be looking for me. This is my chance. He's so arrogant he thinks he's way stronger, that I can't possibly find him before he finds me. He went to my parents' home, Kadan. He knows who I am and he went to my parents' home, somehow got in and went through my things. I have a teddy bear I had with me before I was ever adopted. He has it. I'm going to find him now, today. He'll think I'm done and he won't be lying in wait to ambush me."

    "I don't like this, Tansy," Kadan said, uneasy with the idea. She was exhausted and shaken; he could feel her body trembling against his.

    "I can do this, Kadan." Her eyes met his steadily. "I can. We have a chance to track him right now. It might be our best shot at it."

    He took a deep breath and pushed down his need to protect her, his desire to wrap her up and keep her safe from any harm. She wasn't a woman who played it safe, and just as h e
    wanted her to accept his nature, he needed to accept that she was far too courageous for her own good—and he loved her that way.

    "Damn it," he said, capitulating. "Which one?"

    Tansy leaned against him for strength while she passed her palms above the three remaining game pieces. Energy pulsed off of the scythe and she pulled her hands away quickly. "Move that one for me."
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    Kadan picked the carved scythe up with a cloth and set it to one side.

    Tansy tried again. The two remaining ivory pieces were side by side, so she could judge their potency. The scorpion hit her fairly hard, sending impressions of rage into her mind.
    She quickly pulled her hand away and stared at the last one—the hawk. "I think this is my best shot at it, Kadan. The others throw off so much violence I get impressions when I'm inches from them. This one is much more contained."

    "Let's do it then," Kadan said. He stroked his hand down her back, the curve of her spine, and over her rounded bottom. He didn't know if he touched her for himself or for her, but he couldn't stop the caress. His hands went to her hips, slid up under her shirt, and a
    m ssaged the ribbon of skin there with the pads of his fingers. "Are you certain, Tansy?"

    She nodded. "I'm pretty sure I can get him."

    He bent his head to the nape of her neck, scraping his teeth back and forth. "I know yo u
    can, baby. Find him for us" She would never know what it cost him to say it, but he forced the words with conviction, when deep inside, his belly was back to knots. He couldn't summon the ice when anything concerned her, not even when he needed it most.

    Tansy didn't hesitate. She cupped her hands around the small ivory hawk. Instantly the energy swarmed over and into her mind. Images poured in alo g n with the thick sludge
    that she'd long ago come to accept with murder. She kept her palms very close, almost brushing the ivory game piece.

    He'd drawn a card and the murder was very precise. He had to follow specific steps in order to get the points his team needed, now that they had a real chance to win, thanks to Stallion's screwup. No imagination involved in this one, no creativity. The victims were always picked well in advance, but usually they got to at least choose how they wante d