Ghostwalker 09 - Ruthless Game

in a perfect position to be observing a camera. Gideon?
    I have him, Gideon acknowledged. I have a shot.
    Check Room 225, Mack ordered.
    On it, Top. Kane shifted his gaze to the next apartment. Jaimie had said a single male had moved in. A man moved through the apartment fast, away from the window. The male in Room 225 is armed. There’s a second male standing by the door, armed as well.
    I have the first male, Ethan said, second is out of my sight.
    It’s a drug deal. Man with briefcase just walked in. Kane moved on to the next floor.
    Checking the third floor. Room 334. Kane looked up to the top floor. The wal s dropped away, leaving the occupants exposed. A woman lay on a bed motionless, her head tilted at an odd angle. The man was at the side of the windows in the front room, staring at the street below and the chaos the boys were causing as they ran from the SUV. The male glanced toward the bedroom, seemed to say something, and then walked into the kitchen to open the fridge and pul out a bottle. Can’t rule out. One male moving around. Female in bedroom, lying on the bed.
    Check the roof again, Gideon.
    Roger that, Top. Gideon complied.
    Moving position, Kane said.
    It always took a few moments to recover from using his gift. His body felt weak and shaky, his stomach churning. He dropped his head down to suck in as much air as he could to counteract the dizziness. It only took seconds, but he was running out of time.
    While he stil had the cover of the boys, he had to quickly get across the street. He slipped from the doorway and, hugging the shadows as best as possible, pul ed a hat low, drooped his shoulders, and changed his gait. He appeared shorter and thinner than he was just by changing his posture and the way he walked. Hurrying, he crossed at the crosswalk, sending nervous, furtive glances at the boys, never once looking up.
    Roof is clear, Top, Gideon reported.
    Javier was already inside, and the two of them went up the stairs toward the second floor. Mack and Lucas had come in from the back and were already on the third-floor landing. Kane signaled to Javier, and they went into the hal way, guns out and ready, senses flaring out to find an enemy. They moved in silence, approaching apartment 224 first.
    Gideon, do you have eyes on our man? Kane asked.
    He hasn’t moved. Not so much as a change in position.
    Kane nodded to Javier. Javier knelt and quickly worked the lock. He eased the door open. There was no chain in place, and icy fingers slid down Kane’s spine.
    Going in. He knew Gideon would take the shot if necessary, but there was something else, some awareness that kept the adrenaline pumping through his system. He could almost smel Whitney’s presence.
    He signaled again, and Javier dropped low to cover him as Kane went through the door and stepped to the left, clearing the room. The man in the chair didn’t move, didn’t turn his head. It was possible he hadn’t heard their entrance, but even when Javier moved to visibly clear the other smal rooms, the occupant of the apartment was unnatural y stil .
    Kane glided up behind him, finger on the trigger, but stil the man didn’t move. Kane could see why when he approached from the side. Eric Lambert sat grotesquely sprawled out in the chair, drink near his hand, throat cut open, shirt soaked in blood.
    Man down, Top. Whitney was here.
    Kane could smel the pipe tobacco, Whitney’s special blend. Bile reached his throat and he choked it back. He remembered that appal ing scent as he came up from loving Rose. The man had made certain Kane and Rose had mated. Kane had ruined his cameras, so he’d come to see for himself. Kane had never detested a human being more than he did that poor excuse for a man. He would have kil ed him right there had he not been locked in a cage.
    The only thing he could do was cover Rose’s body with his own, shielding her from a monster’s smug, satisfied gaze. They’d looked at each other through the bars. Whitney had seen the resolve there, knew Kane wanted him dead. He’d simply, arrogantly, removed the pipe from his teeth and nodded before walking away. As if they had been in some hellish pact together.
    “He left you a note.”
    Kane had seen it. That blood-spattered paper placed careful y and conspicuously beside the dead doctor. Cursing beneath his breath, Kane edged the envelope with his name on it out from the dead man’s hand.
    Top, Whitney was here. Eric Lambert is dead. He couldn’t have left