Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)(25)

“Fuck.” Ken spat the word at her, jerking his finger from her body, his hand wrapping around her throat a second time. “Did he make you feel like this? Did you get wet for him? Did you come for him like that? Damn you, did he make you come apart for him?”

“Ken! What the f*ck are you doing?” Jack demanded.

Ken went rigid, his face going completely white, eyes wide with shock and horror. He stumbled away from her, looking helplessly at his twin, one hand reaching out to him. There was utter and complete despair on his face, in the bleakness of his eyes, in the way he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as if her taste disgusted him.

Jack took a step toward his brother, shaking his head.

Time slowed. Mari knew. She saw it all happening in her head as if somehow, that brief moment of connection had left part of her inside of Ken to read his mind. She knew exactly, as if the entire scene had been rehearsed.

Ken pulled his weapon in one smooth movement and turned to her. “I’m sorry, Mari,” he said quietly and put the gun to his head.





CHAPTER 5




The thunder in Ken’s head grew louder. He would never get Mari’s taste or scent out of his mind; he would never stop needing to reach for her, touch her, own her. Eventually, as surely as he lived and breathed, he would go to her, take her, make her his own. And once that happened, both of them would be lost. He had shown her—and himself—he could not be trusted. He would destroy her the way his father had destroyed his mother. First the jealousy and then the punishments, and finally madness would overcome love, and murder would be swift and brutal. And then Jack would be forced to hunt and kill him.

He sent his brother a small, sad smile and lifted his other hand to shield Mari’s eyes. I’ve always loved you, Jack. I don’t want you to have to do this. His finger tightened on the trigger.

“No!” There was fear, agony, in Jack’s voice. “Damn you, no, Ken!” He leapt forward, a hundred years too late; even with his enhanced strength and speed, he could never get there in time.

The way Ken had drawn the gun was smooth and practiced. There was no hesitation, only resolve, as if he had known someday he would have to use that last line of defense for his brother. Even as he lifted the gun, Mari was already in motion. She threw herself off the bed, every move carefully calculated. Her head rammed Ken’s arm. She felt the heat of the explosion as the bullet left the gun, far too close to her face. The sound was deafening next to her ear, but she latched on to his wrist and took both of them to the floor. She landed hard, unable to protect her leg.

She heard herself scream, the cry torn from her throat, but she hung on grimly to Ken’s arm, pinning it with her body weight when she was seeing stars, afraid she’d pass out before Jack got to his twin.

Ken didn’t struggle. Instead he wrapped his arm around her and put his mouth against her ear. “I tried to save you. Whitney has my profile too. He knows me inside, where no one else does, and he thought it would be fun to pair you with the devil.”

She turned her head to stare into his strange-colored eyes. “The devil wouldn’t have tried to take his own life in order to keep me safe.”

There was a moment, one small heartbeat, when she glimpsed raw emotion in those silver eyes and her heart jumped in response.

“You’ll never be safe again, Mari, not while I’m alive.”

Jack kicked the gun across the floor away from Ken and sank down beside them, his trembling hand going to his brother’s shoulder. Mari hadn’t thought he could be so shaken.

“What were you thinking? Ken, you should have let me help you.”

Ken shook his head, gathering Mari closer to him, reaching for the sheet to once again cover her body. His hands were impersonal, as if his mouth had never tasted her flesh, brought her to a fever pitch of sensual pleasure without even trying. “There’s no way to help me, Jack, and you know it. You can only help her. You know what you have to do to keep her safe.”

“This is bullshit, Ken. I can put a bullet in her head and be done with it.”

Mari raised her hand. “Do I get a vote?”

“You’re bleeding all over the place again,” Ken said. He stood, lifting her into his arms, the pain driving the air from her lungs. “You can’t kill her, Jack. You have to protect her from everyone—even me.”

Mari tried desperately to cling to consciousness. The movement wrenched her leg, made her stomach protest with a violent heave, but she refused to faint, needing to hear every word.

Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“What? You didn’t see me acting like an animal? You know exactly what it’s going to be like—a long drop into hell. I’m not doing that. I refuse to be him. I’d rather be dead.” Ken placed Mari back on the gurney, careful to avoid jarring her leg. “Take a look, Jack, see how much damage she did.” He stepped away from her side, not looking at her, not touching her, his voice as empty as his expression.

“You look.” Jack reached down and snagged the gun. “Are you going to be stupid again?”

Ken refused to answer. Jack stepped closer to the gurney and suddenly jammed the weapon against Mari’s head. “I swear to you, on our mother, if you even think about doing that again, I’ll blow her brains out.”