Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(19)

He pushed off, deliberately brushing his elbow against loose dirt and rock, sending an avalanche tumbling to the ground below. The gap between boulders was wide, but his fingertips caught and held. The second jump was already planned in his mind, and he turned and leapt, just as the bullet hit the granite beside his left shoulder. Rock splintered, driving slivers into his arm, but he was already in the air, going for the surface below him. As soon as he landed, he let himself drop to the ground, rolling for cover. He kept rolling, smashing into the thicker brush and then going still.

Two more bullets hit the ground to the right of him and just in front of him. He belly-crawled backward into much heavier brush, careful not to disturb branches. Once in the small tunnels made by animals and debris catching on brush, he crawled, using elbows and toes to propel his body along the ground, making his way to where the sniper had set up his rifle.

Within minutes he could feel the violent energy coming at him in waves. The man was sweating; the scent of him carried on the wind. Kadan slid the knife from his boot, transferring it to his teeth as he crawled toward the sniper.

The man stared through his scope, scanning the area, trying to get a bead on Kadan, and Kadan could sense the man’s shock at how fast Kadan had come down the granite wall. Even though the sniper had seen Kadan leap with his own eyes, he obviously was beginning to think he’d imagined it. The night shadows had lengthened and grown, and Kadan’s reflective clothing and skin tones had made him virtually impossible to see until he moved. The sniper had fired on instinct, but now doubted himself.

Kadan let out his breath, shielding his psychic energy automatically. He didn’t have the impression that the sniper was a GhostWalker, produced from Whitney’s list of rejected psychic candidates, but he always erred on the side of caution. He had to get close. Very close. He moved again, this time out of the brush. He was more exposed, relying on stealth and his reflective clothing and skin changes to keep him invisible. Moving inches at a time allowed him to keep from drawing the sniper’s attention, although more than once, as the man surveyed his surroundings, he looked right at Kadan.

Kadan ceased all movement until the sniper settled behind his rifle once more and took a careful survey around the heavy brush. Once the sniper was busy, Kadan eased his body closer, hardly breathing, not allowing a single leaf to crackle beneath his weight.

The sniper knelt beside the tree, eye once again to his scope, and Kadan rose, still nearly invisible, his knife held low, blade up. The sniper turned and Kadan struck, taking the man out quickly and efficiently, doing his best to make the kill clean. Blood splattered across the trunk and over the rifle. Kadan stepped back, avoiding the bright red streaks. He waited a few moments before reaching down, without expression, and checking for a pulse. He wiped the blade clean and then checked the sniper’s hands, hoping to get a fingerprint. He wasn’t surprised to find that the prints had been burned off. This man was a sanctioned killer and wouldn’t be traced back to anywhere. More than likely he would have been declared dead years earlier. He was a ghost with no name and no home.

Kadan shook his head. This wasn’t the life he wanted for the GhostWalkers. He left everything right where it lay, not even touching the weapon.

Kadan? Tansy’s voice wavered.

I’m fine. Did the spotter turn away from you?

Yes, he’s gone. He took off running back toward the camp. She hesitated. I don’t feel a wave of violence. I can’t tell what happened.

Kadan slipped the knife back into the scabbard and backed into the heavier brush. The spotter would be coming right to him.

Just stay put and let me take care of this.

He felt her hesitation and shook his head. He’d disturbed her peace just by coming to her. She knew he intended, one way or another, to bring her back with him. Now he’d brought two men who wanted them dead. She wasn’t going to stick around to see what happened. He was tired. He desperately needed sleep. He didn’t even know what time zone he was in anymore, but he was going to have to go chase Tansy.

I’m just too damned tired for games. Don’t take off.

There was a small silence and then he felt her stirring in his mind. That same impression of heat and silk, and maybe now a hint of fire to go along with the taste of cinnamon in his mouth. Yeah, there was passion underneath all that cool. Anyone who would volunteer at the age of thirteen to track brutal serial killers had to feel passionately about life.

Do you really expect me to stay?

Her voice brushed at every nerve ending, tightening his body when he needed to remain in absolute control. If Whitney had designed his soldiers to work in pairs, he certainly hadn’t taken into consideration the effect the right woman could have on a man’s body.

I wish you’d give me the consideration of at least hearing me out.

There was another small silence.

I did. There was finality in her tone.

Kadan could hear the second man now. The rustle of leaves as he brushed by bushes. Breath coming in short gasps. The spotter suddenly ceased all movement. He hadn’t gotten to the body, but the rifle wasn’t up where it should be. He may have caught a glimpse of the barrel sticking out of the brush, lying on the ground.

Kadan crouched low, ready to spring, relying on his clothing and skin to camouflage him.





CHAPTER 4


Will you promise to leave me alone if I say no after I listen again? Tansy’s soft voice held an unintentional plea.