Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers, #4)(70)



“I’m not doing this with you. We both agreed there would be no woman, not one we cared about, not one who mattered.”

“She saved my life. She’s a GhostWalker, same as we are. Whitney’s after her for the baby.”

Ken swung around. “What the hell are you talking about? Peter Whitney is dead. He was murdered. How could he have anything to do with this?”

“Apparently he has a lot to do with it. Aside from enhancing us, he programmed us to respond sexually to one of the enhanced females—at least that’s what I’m told. And if it’s true, it’s potent. I’m a walking hard-on around her.”

“Great. Like we didn’t have enough problems.” Ken sighed. “Are you certain about all of this, Jack?”

“Just as certain as I was that someone set us up in the Congo. That someone had to be Whitney. He has the money, the resources, and the clearance—and someone very high up is helping him. They’ll be coming after Briony and the baby.”

“They won’t get her, Jack, but we’d better be prepared. How is she in a fight?”

“She needs an anchor, but she’s tough as nails if she needs to be. She’ll stand.”

“So there’s a woman out there who is going to turn me into a raging testosterone bull.”

“Yeah, that’s about it,” Jack said.

Ken whistled softly. “Well, there are always compensations in life.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t be too sure about that. The way I understand it, Whitney’s not having much luck getting us lab rats together so he’s trying to round up the women and establish some kind of baby factory with a few of his enhanced soldiers volunteering for donor duty.”

“Okay, that’s just sick.” Ken frowned. “So this woman—the one I’d react to—might be locked up in Whitney’s basement as a broodmare?”

“Makes you want to meet the son of a bitch on a dark night with no one around, doesn’t it?”

Ken crossed to his brother’s side and bent close to Briony’s neck, inhaling deeply. He was acutely aware of the rising tension and Jack’s sudden stillness. He straightened slowly, winked at his brother, and backed up. “Doesn’t do a thing for me.”

“Well, next time you’re going to get personal, you might warn me.”

“Get used to it. If you’re keeping her, then she’s my sister and that child is my niece or nephew. I’m a hands-on kind of man.”

“You just like to piss me off,” Jack said.

“Well, there’s that. On the other hand, we’ll find out really fast just how much of a bastard you’re going to be to live with—with your woman around. You get out of line, and I’ll have to take you out behind the barn.”

“We don’t have a barn.”

“I told you we needed a barn, damn it,” Ken said. “You had to have a shop. It doesn’t sound the same saying I’m taking you out behind the shop.” Ken dropped his hand on his brother’s shoulder, a silent gesture of camaraderie—of solidarity. “It’s getting a little cold out here for me. I’m for bed.”

Jack watched his brother walk into the house. Ken’s shoulders were straight, his gait even and fluid, but his heart was heavy, aching with the weight of dread—of the nightmare both had always feared. The savage wounds on Ken’s body had healed, but the scars were everywhere, inside and out. Jack didn’t like contributing to his brother’s burden, but there was no help for it.

Briony stirred in his arms, shivered, and snuggled closer, her body squirming against his groin. The feeling was different than any he’d experienced. The painful, aching tightness was there, a swift response he was becoming used to, but there was more, a rush of emotion threatening to choke him. He should have felt reluctance—he did feel it, but the wakening sensations, affection, stirrings of love mixed with passion and his heightened senses were all unexpected.

He stood up, cradling her slight weight against his chest. She lifted her head, blinked, and looked around her. “I was dreaming.”

“What were you dreaming?”

“That there were two of you.”

He took her into the house, striding down the hall toward his room. “That must have been frightening. Two men to order you around.”

“Not really.” She laid her head back down on his shoulder. “I’m used to four brothers, all with loud opinions.”

She sounded amused and drowsy all at once. It wasn’t just her scent, he decided, as he laid her on the bed and stretched out beside her. She trusted him on some instinctive level. No one trusted him—not even his twin brother, not even Ken. He turned on his side to wrap his arm around her, pressing his body close to hers.

“Don’t try anything,” she warned. “I’d have to smack you around.”

“I was just going to tell you the same thing,” Jack said.

“Really?” She turned her head to look at him, amusement creeping into her dark eyes. “What are you doing in here?”

“Keeping you from sleepwalking. It’s the only way I’m going to get any sleep.”

“I don’t sleepwalk.”

“It’s safer, trust me, baby.”

It wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to get into the reasons why. She turned completely over to study his face. “What if they find us? They could hurt your brother, Jack. I didn’t think about that. I was so busy protecting my brothers, I didn’t think about yours, and I should have. I’m sorry.”

Christine Feehan's Books