Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game
planning stages and liked holding it in his hand."
Kadan swore as he turned away from her. She was gone from him. She had distanced herself from him and he felt the barrier even in her mind. He couldn't blame her. He even understood, but damn it all, she belonged to him, and the separation after sharing her body and her mi
rely b
nd was unacceptable. He could ba
reathe with the thought of losing
her for good.
Reluctantly he handed her the game piece. It was a small stallion, anatomically correct.
She took it between two fingers, turning it over and over. Her index finger began to stroke along the horse's neck, where there was no wild mane.
"He's the Italian Stallion. He likes being called that. He enjoys knowing he can a
m nipulate women, and his friends know it. He makes the claim that it's their responsibility to keep their women away from him, not his."
"Italian Stallion is so trite. s
It' been done too many times."
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Her gaze jumped to his face. "I'm sure it has."
He wasn't Italian, but he felt like she was accusing him of seducing her. Damn it. Maybe he had. He hadn't told her the story of his childhood on purpose. It had slipped out. He'd been horrified, but he couldn't stop talking, couldn't stop the flow once the dam had been pierced. He hadn't told the story to seduce her, or even to gain sympathy. He was in her i
m nd. Sharing each other. He saw her. Saw inside of her. She was— everything .
Tansy studied the carving from every angle. "He wants this identity more than he wants his own. He encourages this one. Mostly they just call him Stallion. Who are they?"
Her finger was mesmerizing, rubbing the neck back in forth, almost in a caress. Kadan remembered the feel of her fingers stroking over his shaft. He'd been so hard. So thick.
He'd never been quite like that before, full to bursting. Looking at her, with h r e hair all
over the place, no makeup and that remote look on her face, his heart contracted. And yes, even now, the breeze carried the faint scent of cinnamon, although now it mixed with his scent.
"His friends," Kadan guessed.
"They're close but apart. They hide in the shadows. The night is ours."
His head came up alertly. "What the hell are you saying?" He snatched the game piece from her hand. "What do you mean by that?"
Tansy turned her shimmering eyes on him. Now he knew what those eyes did. They saw inside, where people never were meant to see. She was seeing too much. Where was the ice in his veins? Where was his cool?
"I didn't mean anything. I saw the words, that's all. He believes he is invincible at night."
She pulled off the gloves and dropped them on the table as if she couldn't bear them against her skin.
Kadan shook his head. "I don't believe it. There aren't that many of us. Eight? Eight killers? GhostWalkers?" He shook his head again. "I won't believe that."
"So the phrase has meaning to you?"
He glanced at her sharply. She'd grown up around detectives, and her question, in that casual voice, sounded just like one.
"You're my partner," he said gruffly, staking his claim. "Don't forget that." Before she denied it, he shoved up his sleeve.
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didn't know."
"It's nothing. A scratch. I sewed it up. I'm showing you the tattoo."
There was an expectant silence. At first she didn't see anything on his arm, but then when he released a little bit of psychic energy, allowing it to swirl close to her, she could see the strange crest.
"The GhostWalker crest. The night is ours. It's in our creed," he explained, his expression grim. "I don't believe in coincidence. But eight… That would be an entire team." He shook his head. "No way, Tansy. I know them all."
"They're under a lot of strain. You know it better than anyone, Kadan," she said softl , y
watching him carefully. "The headaches, the continual pressure of the outside world, it could drive anyone insane. I ought to know."
"But you didn't brutally kill people. And you sure as hell haven't done it for fun. These bastards are doing it for fun."
She rubbed at the frown creasing her forehead. "So why are the GhostWalkers under suspicion? I'm not
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