Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(10)

His eyes fascinated her. Midnight blue, so blue they were almost black, unblinking and intent, much like those of the predator she’d been studying for the last year. He focused completely on his prey, and right now that was Tansy. He held her mesmerized, unable to look away from him until he allowed it.

The movement of the wallet allowed her to tear her gaze away from those dangerous eyes, and she glanced with dismay at his identification. FBI. Only she didn’t believe it. Everything about him screamed military. She shook her head. “I’m not buying your story.” She started up the trail with a forced sigh. “Just tell me what you want and get off my mountain.”

“I need your help.”

Her heart stuttered. The breath caught in her lungs and stayed there. Fear skated through her body. Her throat closed, panic rising while she battled with the sudden roaring in her mind as a door creaked open and voices began to spill out. She shook her head, afraid to speak, afraid she might scream, afraid once she started she would never stop. She counted her steps instead, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, forcing her mind to go blank, forcing air through her lungs while she mutely shook her head.

“Tansy?” There was concern in his tone.

She’d gone pale beneath her tan, and little beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. Tansy wiped them away with a leaden hand, holding the door closed while it shook and moaned, pushing hard against her will. “Go away.” Her voice was a mere whisper of sound.

He kept pace easily, even though he wasn’t walking on the trail, but in the rougher, thicker grass. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Go away, Mr. Montague. I can’t help you.” She continued to climb, averting her face so that it was impossible for him to see her mouth trembling.

“That’s not the truth, Tansy. I’ve got a file on you four inches thick. You’re the real thing, and whatever bullshit you’ve been feeding law enforcement across the country about losing your abilities in a climbing accident doesn’t cut it with me.”

She swallowed hard, braced herself, and turned to face him. “If you have a file on me, I’m certain it included the fact that I spent eight months in a hospital. You seem a very thorough kind of man to me, and you’re not FBI, so your little badge doesn’t cut it with me.”

Kadan moved in behind her, crowding so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. She might look angry, but he was far too well trained not to have noticed the hint of desperate fear in her eyes and she detested that he knew she was afraid. “Not of you,” she murmured aloud, pouring contempt into her voice. “Never of you. Get off my mountain and leave me alone.”

“What happened?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her fingers closing to form two tight fists. “You’re a perfect stranger—a man I don’t want to know. I’m a photographer, working with permits on this reserve. As far as I know, you don’t have the right to be here, or to question me. If you really are FBI, then go talk to my lawyer.”

“Now you’re just being rude.”

She felt rude. He was getting to her because she was so shaken. Tansy took another breath and let it out.

The sudden buildup of hostile energy hit her. It was hard and fast and came from just beyond Kadan.

Kadan felt the surge of aggressive, threatening energy blast him, and he caught Tansy by the wrist, whirling around, thrusting her behind him, placing his body between her and danger. She stumbled and nearly went down, but he continued moving in a circle, pulling his weapon, finger on the trigger, squeezing as the enemy attacked.

No! Back!

The voice filled his mind even as Tansy leapt over him, directly in between his gun and the attacking cougar. His finger was already pulling the trigger, his aim true. He managed to jerk just enough to miss Tansy by a breath, but the mountain lion hit her full-force on her chest, driving her back and into him so they both went down. For one moment he stared into the cat’s eyes, its breath hot on his face, and then it was gone, leaping off Tansy into heavy brush and disappearing.

Everything in him stilled. Kadan locked his arms around Tansy and rolled, pulling her beneath him so he could run his hands over her body, checking for damage. “Talk to me.”

The cougar had knocked the breath from her body, hitting her with the force of a locomotive. She’d likely be bruised, and she wasn’t getting air, but there were no slash marks as he’d expected. The cat had pulled in her claws when she struck, and she hadn’t bitten Tansy’s exposed throat—and neither had his bullet hit her. He hung his head for a moment, breathing his fear away.

“What the hell were you thinking, protecting the cat like that?” he demanded, fury replacing terror. “I could have shot you. I came a whisper away from killing you.” He found he was shaking her, and, shocked, he drew a deep breath, trying to pull back from the edge of disaster. He was trembling, something he never did, but he had come so close to blowing her head off. It took a moment for him to realize that his hands were wrapped around her slender throat, thumbs pressed up into her jaw, tipping her head up so her huge eyes stared directly into his.

Tansy tried to swallow, but his hands were wrapped around her throat, thumbs pressing tightly. She remained very still, shocked at the truth. She hadn’t been saving the cougar’s life—she’d saved his life. It had been imperative to save his life. The moment she’d felt the threat and knew the cougar was going to attack, she’d leapt over him from a crouching position, giving away another hidden secret, to keep him from harm. She blinked up at him as he slowly removed his hands from around her neck.