Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

important piece of information without even knowing what she was giving him. "What pain?"

    "He uses other people's pain to drown out his own. I think his pain stems from perceived abandonment, real or not; he feels very disconnected from everyone around him. He has rage toward his parents and teachers, people who didn't recognize his genius. He's very patriotic and has anger toward certain individuals in the government who don't share his vision, because he believes he's smarter and they should listen to him. All of that causes pain, but he doesn't recognize that it does. He can't connect with anyone."

    "He has a daughter."

    She nodded, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully, frowning while she did so. "Lily. He spoke of her sometimes, and when he did, I could feel a rush of emotion in him, but it wasn't like my parents when they touched me. It wasn't the same as anything I've ever identified with as a parent's love. He views her as an extension of himself. He's a megalomaniac, has an absolute belief that he's superior to everyone else and that no o e n
    will ever measure up to his capabilities except perhaps Lily—or her children."

    Kadan nodded. "That's a fair assessment of Dr. Whitney."

    "You're certain he's still alive? My parents—well, my father—always insisted we use him as a doctor, but I haven't seen him since he was supposedly murdered."

    "What kinds of things did he do to you?"

    "He told Mom and Dad he was helping me with the headaches, but they never went away or even got better. Mostly he gave me physicals, asked a lot of questions, was very interested in whether I had sex or not, and took a lot of blood and tissue samples. He also spent a lot of time on my eyes. He was very interested in the fact that I almost always have to wear dark glasses and that I see differently than other people."

    Kadan was very interested in whether or not she had sex as well, but figured this wasn't the best time to ask her. "What's different about the way you see?"
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    Tansy shrugged, but didn't comment.

    Kadan let it go. "Did he give you injections?"

    She nodded. "They hurt like hell." She frowned. "You know, I didn't always get a lot off of him, the way I do most people. Not him, exactly, his things. At the time, when I touched objects, I could read a lot about a person, but it was more difficult with him. Of course, by that time, I tried to wear gloves everywhere I went."

    "You haven't felt anything even when you touch an object I've touched, have you?"
    Kadan asked. "I'm an anchor, which means that I can draw psychic energy away from you. I can also shield both of us from any energy and keep others from feeling ours."

    He deftly added the vegetables to the rice and took the plates she handed him to serve the meal on. "My talents come in handy on missions when we need to hide from the enemy."

    "But not so handy tracking serial killers," Tansy observed.

    He nodded. "I'm good at working puzzles out, and once I'm pointed in the right direction, I'll find him, but I need a little help."

    Tansy's heart jumped. She could never allow him to lull her into a false sense of security.
    "I'm sorry that help can't be me, Kadan, but it can't be. I know you've got all the ugly little details of my hospitalization. They couldn't take away all those voices, the victims—or the killers. Do you have any idea what it's like to hear screams and feel someone's desperate last thoughts all the time, and I mean all the time? To know the mind of a killer intimately? The delicious perverted pleasure he gets out of carving someone up, or burying them alive?" The door in her mind creaked ominously and whispers grew.
    She took a deep breath, controlled herself, and slammed it shut. "You're already bringing those days back and I haven't even tried to help you."

    "I can keep most of the psychic spill from targeting you."

    She turned her head and removed her glasses, looking him straight in the eye. "No, you can't, not and have me track him. I'd need to feel him, get inside his mind to do what you're asking. You and I both know you can't take it out of my head once it's there."

    Kadan hated that she was right. And he hated it more that she drew on gloves. She had touched him and hadn't felt anything, he'd protected her, but she didn't trust him and for a good reason—truthfully, she couldn't . He had to