Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(20)

Kadan clenched his teeth. A muscle worked in his jaw, a sure sign of agitation when he needed his usual calm. He wanted to reassure her, but he had his orders, and more importantly, he was certain she could track the killers. Give me a few minutes here.

He broke off abruptly. The spotter may have been a bit out of shape, but he was no fool. There was a hitch in his breath and then he opened fire, spraying the brush with bullets. Kadan dropped all the way to the ground while hell broke loose above him, smashing small branches and bushes alike, tearing up the vegetation and putting Kadan in real peril.

He scooted back, driving with his elbows to move along the ground, feeling for a depression or a slope of any kind where he could press his body even closer to the earth. The spotter was making so much noise with his automatic weapon that Kadan didn’t bother shielding sound. He just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge.

His toe slipped off into space and he shifted back, feeling with his boots for a purchase on the sloping ground. The bullets slammed the ground all around him as he scooted deeper into the brush.

Tansy gasped in his mind, her fear beating at him when he needed to stay disconnected and cold.

I’m fine. Break off. I’ll handle this. He knew she wasn’t combat-trained, and the ugly sound of an automatic rifle spraying the brush, toppling branches and bushes alike, must have been terrifying to her. He gentled his voice. Tansy, I’m trained for this.

He knew that would bring up all sorts of other questions in her mind. She might not be able to get psychic energy off of him, but she picked up on body language, and as much of an empath as she was, she couldn’t fail to read that he was as dangerous as hell without all the enhancements, and with them he was plain lethal.

Be careful.

Careful was part of the way he lived—some of the time—but he appreciated that she was worried when she had every reason to want him dead.

The slope wasn’t as gentle as he would have liked as he backed down it. He had to dig in to prevent slipping, but the angle kept him safe from the barrage of bullets. Eventually the spotter stopped firing. Kadan could hear him breathing heavily, and then swearing as he discovered the sniper’s body.

Kadan took advantage of the man’s distraction and rolled to his right, before once again crawling along the ground, this time in a wide arc to come back toward the spotter at an angle. He would have one chance. If he didn’t make the kill, the spotter would blow him away—and then he’d kill Tansy. He’d hunt her mercilessly and leave no witnesses.

Kadan’s jaw tightened. Failure was not an option. Tansy Meadows was going to live a long life—with him. He risked a cautious glance. The spotter was crouched beside the downed sniper, one hand on the other man’s throat, checking for a pulse. His gaze constantly sweeping his surroundings, he reached inside his jacket, pulled a Glock, shoved it against the sniper’s teeth, and pulled the trigger, probably to ensure no identity on the off chance dental records could be found.

Kadan rose up behind the man, knife flashing toward his throat. The man must have sensed him, because he half turned, firing his gun instinctively as Kadan’s blade took him across the jugular. One of the Glock’s bullets shaved off jacket and skin across Kadan’s shoulder, a wicked, burning kiss that stung like hell. He closed his mind to the pain and continued with a standard figure-eight kill attack, slicing down and across the torso, thighs, and then back up to finish the kill. Again he stepped back, careful not to disturb either body.

He moved a short distance from both of them and sank into a crouch, taking a deep breath. Exhaustion washed over him. The sun was long gone and another night had crept up on him. He desperately needed to sleep, not chase Tansy over the mountains. He shoved his fingers through his hair and forced his body to his feet. They would have to be gone at daybreak. He’d leave the bodies where they lay and erase his tracks, hoping the vultures and other creatures would do a lot of damage before either man was found.

He made his way back to the campsite, moving in silence, letting the night wrap him in shadows. Tansy? You still with me?

Again he felt her hesitation. Yeah. She was with him. She was deciding to run, but she couldn’t quite make a break from him. Maybe Whitney had managed to pair them, not just on his side—or maybe he was lucky and she was genuinely attracted to him. Cursing under his breath for even hoping, Kadan shook his head to rid himself of the thought. She was simply a good person who didn’t want him dead.

I’m here.

He closed his eyes briefly, allowing the sound of her voice to slide down his skin like the touch of fingers. His throat ached and his body tightened. He was in bad shape to let just her voice have an effect on him. He picked up the pace, moving quickly through the trees, taking the shortest possible route back to her camp.

The tent was tucked between a couple of rocks with trees and brush, masking its presence. Food was scattered across the table and onto the ground, where ants swarmed. Wildlife had made short work of the offering.

It’s safe to come back to camp now. He picked up the frying pan and carried it to her makeshift sink.

I doubt that. It will be much safer for me when you’re gone.

Kadan sighed heavily, the weariness washing over him and regret biting deep. You know I have to take you with me. I’m damned tired tonight. Just get back here and drop it until I get some rest. Kadan meticulously cleaned the grounds, dumping the remains of their meal in her trash can. She obviously burned most of the remains from each day.