Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)(43)

Has it ever been like this for you before?

Ken could hear the sudden shy note in her voice. She was embarrassed to ask him, yet needed to know. He tunneled his fingers through the thick mass of gold-and platinum-colored hair. No.

What are we going to do about it?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m going to put as much distance between us as possible.

And I don’t have a say in your decision?

He bent his head to hers, buried his face in her hair and just held her close to him, savoring her scent and the softness of her body. You don’t know what you are, Mari. A gift. Something to treasure, something so precious I don’t dare take a chance on being around you. If I had you, even once, I’d never be able to let you go. He brushed a kiss in her hair, uncaring that his brother was watching. He had only a few more precious hours with her and then she’d be out of his life forever. He was going to take what he could get. I could never say these things out loud to you. It’d sound corny, and I’d feel like an idiot, but you need to hear them.

Maybe I’m not able to let you go, Mari ventured.

You have no choice.





CHAPTER 8




“She’s had two nosebleeds on the plane and we can’t get this one stopped,” Logan announced, racing to open the door for Lily. “Did you pull her file so we could match her blood type?”

Ken carried Mari in his arms, jogging after the dark-haired woman as she hurried down the hall to the small clinic in the giant laboratory complex.

“Jack or Ken can donate. They’re both the same blood type,” Lily answered, gesturing toward the beds. “Get her in here fast.”

Everything was happening so quickly, Mari didn’t have time to think about it. The moment her nose started to bleed, the men were on the radio talking to Lily Whitney, getting instructions and talking to one another in rapid code.

She knew they were worried when she was whisked from the plane and into a heavily armored car with tinted windows and they drove at breakneck speed to a heavily guarded facility. Ken placed her carefully on the bed, and she reluctantly let her arm drop from around his neck. The moment she was no longer in physical contact with him, she felt alone and vulnerable.

Lily Whitney walked with a limp and was very pregnant. She had dark hair and a worried look on her face. Still—she was Peter Whitney’s daughter—the one person the sadist megalomaniac seemed to care about. She sent a distracted smile toward Mari, obviously meant to reassure her. “Which of you is giving blood?”

Ken rolled up his sleeve. “Me.”

“Take the bed next to her. I’ve got to administer the antidote, but she’s going to crash and crash hard. I’ve got a team assembled, so don’t panic on me.”

“What do you mean crash?” Mari asked. She reached out instinctively to Ken, gripping his hand. “What does she mean?”

“There’s no time,” Lily snapped. “You’ve had the drug in your system too long. Your cells are breaking down. I’ve got to get the IVs in you right now. Don’t fight me on this.”

“Mari.” Ken’s voice was low and calm. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to be right here. Let her put the IVs in and give you the antidote.”

Mari tried to quell the panic rising rapidly. They were all afraid—especially Ken. He had that same expressionless mask he normally wore, but his eyes slashed at her in warning. He would force compliance if she didn’t stay calm and let them do this.

Terror reigned. She didn’t know them. She didn’t trust them—especially Peter Whitney’s daughter. She had known betrayal most of her life. Could all this be an elaborate plot of some kind?

Ken framed her face with both hands. “If you never trust me again, this one time, I’m asking you to put your life in my safekeeping. You’re going to crash as soon as Lily gives you the antidote, but you’ll bleed out if you don’t get it. We’ll bring you back. I swear to you, Mari, this is no trick.”

Lily didn’t wait for Mari to make up her mind. She was putting the IVs in her arm and one in each leg with astonishing efficiency. “Lie down on the bed beside Mari, Ken.” She flashed a small smile in Mari’s direction. It will help to keep her calm. We need her very calm. “I’m Lily. I’m sure you don’t remember me,” she said aloud.

“I know of you.” Mari tried not to wince when the needle went in. I hate needles, she confessed, ashamed. It’s so stupid really. I can break bones and shoot someone at a hundred yards without batting an eye, but I hate needles. She should be used to them; Whitney was always taking blood for something, or giving her shots, or strapping her to a table and adding to her genetic enhancements. He used her as the guinea pig much more often than the other women because he considered her difficult to control. She asked too many questions, incited the other women to rebellion.

She felt Ken settle in next to her, his weight making her body roll toward his. Their hips touched. His thigh slid along hers. The heat of his body warmed the cold of hers. She was instantly hyper-aware of him, of his masculine scent and his sheer strength—of the fact that she was a woman and he was a man.

“Relax, Mari.” His fingers tangled with hers.

Lily and another man were working to get bags of something thick and yellow into the IVs while someone else was sticking needles into Ken’s arm.