Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(124)

He was close—too close. Tansy tried to draw back even as she forced a smile. “I knew you’d worked for Whitney. You were in the original enhanced psychic program, determining who went through and who didn’t. You handpicked your killers based on their psychological profiles. They flunked, didn’t they? They would never have made it through, but you changed it so they looked good.”

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t move her feet, they were frozen in place. Her heart accelerated, the roaring in her ears increased. Her palms went clammy. What was the plan? Why had Kadan sent her here and then abandoned her? She clamped down hard on her runaway thoughts. He would never do that, and to think it—even for a moment—meant she was panicking.

Dunbar nodded. “Whitney never suspected, even when I put in suggested genetic enhancements for each of them.” He flashed a little smirk. “Designer killers. I like that.”

His smugness bothered her. He might not have killed, but he was more responsible than the ones he’d orchestrated to carry out his plan. He’d profited from the murders. “You made a mistake with one of them. Your scorpion wasn’t so easy to control. He isn’t a murderer.”

Again his face flushed. She’d definitely pricked his perfectionist ego. “I made him into one. He’ll do whatever I want.” He indicated her feet with his chin. “You made a little mistake of your own, Tansy. This is my dream, not yours. I initiated it, not you. You delivered yourself into my hands.” He winked at her. “Ultimately, I win.”

Her mouth went dry. “Maybe. We’ll see.” Wake up. Tansy, wake up. Kadan, where are you?

Dunbar waded through the blood toward her, stopping just an arm’s distance away. She couldn’t move. There was no point screaming. The dead were already wailing loud enough, trying to warn her, but they didn’t need to bother. Somewhere inside, she knew he had her trapped.

Everything in her stilled. Kadan. Her one regret. Did he know she loved him? Would that be enough for him to realize the truth about himself? She could never love a monster, and deep down, he thought that was what he was. She hadn’t had enough time with him to show him the truth of who he was.

I’ll love you forever. She sent the whisper out to his mind, hoping it reached him. Her beloved warrior. Whatever had gone wrong wasn’t his fault, but she knew him, knew he would carry the guilt for the rest of his life.

“I really didn’t want to use this dream, but you visit here so often. I didn’t want to get blood on my clothes. It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He waved his arm in a half circle to encompass the lake of blood with so many victims crying out for justice. “Who are these people to you? Nothing at all, but you make yourself suffer for no reason in an effort to appease them. You can’t save them. Someone wanted them dead for a reason.”

“Money.”

He shrugged. “Or revenge. It doesn’t much matter. Someone was going to kill them. Why not gain from it? I wouldn’t have killed you, you know. I found I looked forward to our little game, but I can’t have you knowing who I am.”

He stepped close, right in front of her, so close she could smell him in spite of the overwhelming scent of blood. It took an effort not to gag—or cry out in fear. She forced herself to be still, to gather her strength to fight.

Dunbar shook his head. “It’s my dream, remember? You won’t be able to fight. You aren’t a dreamwalker.”

He struck then, astonishingly fast, his hands spanning her throat, thumbs digging deep, cutting off air. He was very strong, something she hadn’t expected. When she tried to struggle, to fight him, she couldn’t lift her arms any more than she could move her feet. Her lungs burned. Her mind began to panic.

Tansy fought down the terror and forced her brain to function in the short time she had left. Her mind reached for his. He was controlling the dream, and that meant he had found a trail leading to her, or he couldn’t have drawn her in, but she had the path that led to him. She followed it, trying not to succumb to the black edging around her and the white dots that swam in her vision.

She struck hard in his mind, ripping and clawing, shredding walls, trying to rip the dream apart. She attacked him using the same method as his attacks on Tom Delaney, clotting the blood, beating at the skull, shrieking until his mind was filled with pain and devastation. Dunbar screamed and let her go, grabbing his head with both hands.

“You bitch.” He grabbed her again, throwing her forward, grasping her by her hair and shoving her down—down—holding her head so she couldn’t break free.

She went under, the red blood thick and dark, pouring into her mouth and nose, flooding her mind and lungs, rising like a tidal wave, her worst nightmare. Hands reached for her, pulling her deeper; faces stared blankly, horror in their wide open eyes.

She knew she was dying. There was no way to think, no way to fight. She reached for peace, let it happen, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing or feeling her terror.





Kadan lay beside Tansy, listening to her breathing. It was the only way he could monitor what was happening to her. He wasn’t a dreamwalker, and it was his job to guard her body while she was in Jeff and Nico’s care. Something had gone wrong. The rhythm of her breathing had changed completely, until she was nearly hyperventilating. She was frightened. He shared her mind, although he couldn’t enter the dream.