Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

arms and hold her tight against him, shelter her from every hurt.
    He’d chosen this life for them all, and he’d embraced it. There was a part of him that still did, maybe the biggest part of him. He loved what he did. He had even grown to love the psychic and genetic enhancements. But Jaimie was everything to him. He needed her. He just didn’t know how to reconcile the two. He had told her so many 101

    things that night. He’d like to forget he’d said them, but two years had gone by and he had plenty of time to remember word for word how he’d told her she’d come crawling back, begging him to take her back, that she couldn’t make it without him. He’d been so angry at her—at least he thought he’d been. Over those long two years he realized he’d been angry at himself for ever putting her—any of them—in the dangerous position they were all in. It was his responsibility and he couldn’t walk away, not even when he couldn’t seem to breathe without Jaimie.
    There was knowledge in her eyes and he knew she accepted Kane’s betrayal better than he did. Maybe she even understood it. Jaimie seemed able to see things he didn’t.
    She put her hand up and tried to push Joe away.
    “Let me, sweetheart,” Joe said. “I can explain.”
    “We both can,” Kane added, more, Mack suspected, for his benefit than Jaimie’s.
    “Just let him work on you. You know how dangerous brain bleeds are.”
    Jaimie tangled her fingers with Mack’s and clung, but she forced herself to stop fighting.
    “Her name is Jaimie,” Mack said. “Not ‘sweetheart.’ ”
    Joe glanced at him. “You’re looking for a fight, but you’re not going to get one from me. I was just—”
    “Doing your job,” Jaimie cut him off, closing her eyes, not wanting to look at his face. “I hear that a lot. It’s such a great excuse, isn’t it? Following orders.”
    She hadn’t known Joe was a GhostWalker or that he’d been sent to watch her. At first she’d suspected. He’d been her second choice, but her first choice had taken another job. She’d thoroughly investigated Joe and everything checked out. Even that, she knew, could be manipulated so she’d interviewed him several times, trying to trip him up with questions. If a story was rehearsed, it was often retold nearly word for word. Joe had been an easy talker.
    And she should have recognized another GhostWalker. Or at least someone with psychic abilities. Judging by the heat in her head, he definitely had psychic abilities.
    “It’s not like that, Jaimie,” Joe protested.
    “Really? You didn’t answer my ad and apply for the job? You didn’t have a cover in place—a very good one, I might add. I’m pretty certain you never mentioned you were keeping an eye on me.”
    “That your place across the street my men uncovered?” Mack asked.
    “I couldn’t believe your man spotted me. He’s one of a very few who ever have.”
    “He ID’d you walking up to the front door as well.” Mack didn’t identify Gideon.
    He didn’t know what was going on and protecting his men was instinctual.
    Jaimie tried to think through the pain. It mattered little if they gave her explanations.

    102

    Betrayal had a certain smell to it and that scent had been all over Kane. Why not Joe? That bothered her. She’d become fond of him. They’d spent many hours isolated together, working to turn the warehouse into a home and office. In all that time, how could she not have known what he was?
    She felt him lift his fingertips away and the burning sensation eased. She could taste blood in her mouth. The overloads were getting worse, not better. She hadn’t said anything to anyone because who could she tell? Who could she trust? She didn’t dare go into a hospital. And what could a doctor do for her? Only Whitney might have a chance of helping her, and he was a monster without scruples. She’d probably come out from under the anesthesia and discover he’d given her wings.
    “She should be better if I can get this medicine into her IV,” Joe said, sitting back.
    For the first time he looked strained, his handsome face lined with fatigue.
    Mack held out his hand. “What is it?”
    Kane put the medication in Mack’s hand. Mack closed his eyes, blocking out all sights, concentrating on the vial held between his palms. He inhaled deeply, scenting the liquid, looking for trace amounts of poison, sensing whether or not it could bring Jaimie harm. It bothered him that she