Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(11)

“You could get off of me.” Her chest hurt. She was feeling every single rock digging into her back. “You weigh a ton.”

He merely looked down at her for a long moment without responding, his blue-black eyes holding heat and a raw lust, making her heart pound, but then he blinked and his eyes went flat and hard, impossible for her to read. He stood up, drawing her with him, holding her steady until he was certain she was able to stand on her own.

Tansy dusted off her jeans and then rubbed her palms down her thighs, looking around for the sunglasses that had flown off her face when the cat slammed into her. “Thanks for not shooting me.” She would never admit to him that she’d leapt in front of him to save his life, not for one moment. At a much later date, when he wasn’t around to confuse her, she’d take out her motives and examine them, but for now, she’d put it down to saving human life.

“You’re damned lucky.”

She nodded. “I know that and I really do appreciate that you’re that good.”

“Are you going to tell me how you made that leap from a crouch to over the top of me so fast?”

Tansy shrugged. “I don’t know how I do things. I just do them.” There were a lot of things about her that couldn’t be explained.

“Have you ever heard of a man named Peter Whitney?”

She blinked. Her face went expressionless as she searched the ground for her sunglasses, giving herself time to think. “I think most people in scientific communities have heard of Dr. Whitney,” she answered carefully as she retrieved her glasses from under some brush and wiped them off on her shirt. “I believe he was murdered.” She looked him straight in the eye so he could see she meant exactly what she said. “If you’ve found some piece of evidence you want me to ‘feel’ for you, I can’t do it.”

“You believe he’s dead?”

Tansy frowned. “It was big news. He disappeared and everyone thought he was murdered. Wasn’t he?”

Kadan shook his head slowly. “No, he’s alive.”

“That’s impossible. My parents knew him quite well. If he was alive, they’d know.”

“How well is quite well? They were friends?”

Tansy shrugged. “No one was really friends with Dr. Whitney. They were colleagues and they respected each other. My father and Dr. Whitney went to school together and they had a lot of common interests.”

“Were you one of them?” Kadan asked.

Tansy’s mouth tightened. She pushed around him to start up the trail again. “I think this conversation has gone on long enough. It’s getting personal and I don’t even know what you want yet. I have work to do tonight and I need food, so if you’re coming, then let’s get moving.”

Kadan fell into step behind her, alert for any more threats from the large cat, his gaze shifting around the area, but more than that, his every sense reaching out for information. “Dr. Whitney conducted experiments on children about twenty-five years ago. He collected infant girls from various orphanages around the world. He was looking for specific talents, female babies with psychic abilities.”

Tansy kept climbing while the roaring in her head sent her pulse pounding in her temples. Counting. Ten steps.

“He named each of the girls after flowers. Tansy is a flowering herb that grows in Europe and Asia.”

Fifteen steps.

“He enhanced those girls psychically and genetically altered many of them as well. When he removed the filters in their brains, he opened them up for psychic sludge. Many have a difficult time in everyday society. Most can’t be around people at all. They have frequent headaches and nosebleeds. Seizures are common when there is too much psychic overload. Some can do amazing physical things, such as leap over a man from a crouching position.”

He wasn’t lying to her. All of her life she’d been different. All of her life she’d fought to stay sane when each time she touched an object, or sat in a chair, or reached for a door handle, the door in her mind opened and the voices poured in. She kept counting, whispering the numbers under her breath, while she tried to quiet the voice inside that was wailing with fear.

“He did other things too. He has a breeding program, matching the girls, who are now women, with men he experimented on in the military. He created several GhostWalker teams. I’m a member of one of those teams. I agreed to be psychically enhanced. At the time, we didn’t know he took those experiments even further without our consent. He enhanced us genetically as well as paired us with the women from his earlier experiments. Our best guess is that he hopes to create unique soldiers from the unions.”

Thirty steps. Things were clicking into place, and the door in her mind creaked ominously, threatening her sanity. She’d been so close to peace. So close.

“You were adopted, Tansy, and Dr. Whitney allowed some of the children he experimented on to be adopted out. He usually kept tight tabs on the girls, so I’m asking you, did you see him while you grew up?”

Had she seen him? She shivered, suddenly cold, thrown back into childhood memories she didn’t want to have. Seeing Whitney was one of the few things she and her parents ever fought over. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She would never forget that man, the way he looked at her as if she wasn’t human. He was cold and dispassionate, studying her the way a scientist might an insect. She’d begged her father not to leave her alone with him, but he would grab her mother’s hand, looking upset, and walk out of the room, pulling her mother with him. It was the only time she felt vulnerable and without their support.