Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

animals and debris catching on brush, he crawled, using elbows and toes to propel his body along the ground, making his way to where the sniper had set up his rifle.

    ithin m
    W
    inutes he could feel the violent energy coming at him in waves. The man was sweating; the scent of him carried on the wind. Kadan slid the knife from his boot, transferring it to his teeth as he crawled toward the sniper.

    The man stared through his scope, scanning the area, trying to get a bead on Kadan, and Kadan could sense the man's shock at how fast Kadan had come down the granite wall.
    Even thoug
    h the sniper had seen Kadan leap with his own eyes, he obviously was beginning to think he'd imagined it. The night shadows had lengthened and grown, and Kadan's reflective clothing and skin tones had made him virtually impossible to see until he moved. The sniper had fired on instinct, but now doubted himself.

    Kadan let out his breath, shielding his psychic energy automatically. He didn't have the impression that the sniper was a GhostWalker, produced from Whitney's list of rejected psychic candidates, but he always erred on the side of caution. He had to get close. Very close. He moved again, this time out of the brush. He was more exposed, relying on stealth and his reflective clothing and skin changes to keep him invisible. Moving inches at a time allowed him to keep from drawing the sniper's attention, although more than once, as the man surveyed his surroundings, he looked right at Kadan.

    Kadan ceased all movement until the sniper settled behind his rifle once more and took a careful survey around the heavy brush. Once the sniper was busy, Kadan eased his body closer, hardly breathing, not allowing a single leaf to crackle beneath his weight.

    The sniper knelt beside the tree, eye once again to his scope, and Kadan rose, still nearly invisible, his knife held low, blade up. The sniper turned and Kadan struck, taking the man out quickly and efficiently, doing his best to make the kill clean. Blood splattered across the trunk and over the rifle. Kadan steppe d back, avoiding the bright red streaks.
    e
    H waited a few moments before reaching down, without expression, and checking for a pulse. He wiped the blade clean and then checked the sniper's hands, hoping to get a fingerprint. He wasn't surprised to find that the prints had been burned off. This man was a sanctioned killer and wouldn't be traced back to anywhere. More than likely he would have been declared dead years earlier. He was a ghost with no name and no home.

    Kadan shook his head. This wasn't the life he wanted for the GhostWalkers. He left everything right where it lay, not even touching the weapon.

    Kadan ? Tansy's voice wavered.

    I'm fine. Did the spotter turn away from you?
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    Yes, he's gone. He took off running back toward the camp . She hesitated. I don't feel a wave of violence. I can't tell what happened .

    Kadan slipped the knife back into the scabbard and backed into the heavier brush. The spotter would be coming right to him.

    Just stay put and let me take care of this.

    He felt her hesitation and shook his head. He'd disturbed her peace just by coming to her.
    She knew he intended, one way or another, to bring her back with him. Now he'd brought two men who wanted them dead. She wasn't going to stick around to see what happened.
    He was tired. He desperately needed sleep. He didn't even know what time zone he was in anymore, but he was going to have to go chase Tansy.

    I'm just too damned tired for games. Don't take off.

    There was a small silence and then he felt her stirring in his mind. That same impression of heat and silk, and maybe now a hint of fire to go along with the taste of cinnamon in his mouth. Yeah, there was passion underneath all that cool. Anyone who would volunteer at the age of thirteen to track brutal serial killers had to feel passionatel y about
    life.

    Do you really expect me to stay?

    Her voice brus e
    h d at every nerve ending, tightening his body when he needed to remain i
    n absolute control. If Whitney had designed his soldiers to work in pairs, he certainly hadn't taken into consideration the effect the right woman could have on a man's body.

    I wish you'd give me the consideration of at least hearing me out .

    There was another small silence.

    Idid . There was finality in her