Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(85)

She swallowed hard. “That’s sick, Kadan. What if I do get pregnant?”

He laid his hand over hers. “He’ll never take our child. We’re building a fortress in the mountains. We’ll have escape tunnels and routes and protections, so much so that it will be difficult for anyone to get to us. You’d be safe there and so would our child.”

His tone was the same as always, that low, velvet conviction that made her a believer. “So if the murderers we’re tracking didn’t know you were investigating them and Whitney doesn’t want me dead, who does?”

“Your father mentioned a coalition, a group that has formed. We’ve run into them before, and we thought we’d broken them up when we killed their leader. Evidently he wasn’t the only head of the organization. They have a lot of help. Someone in the White House who has access to a high security clearance has been targeting the GhostWalkers for death. They leaked the information that the East Coast and West Coast murders were connected, and they gave a reporter your name. He did a little investigating and realized you were the same Tansy Meadows who had tracked serial killers. The moment he found you, the assassins were on your trail.”

“But how did he find me?”

“That’s what I want to know. Did whoever tip him off give him that information as well? And if so, how did they come by it?”

Tansy ran both hands through her hair. “I don’t have any idea, Kadan, and truthfully, I just can’t find it in me to care that much. I want to solve these murders and get the killers off the streets. All the rest of it will just have to take a backseat until we figure out what’s going on.”

Kadan glanced at her half-eaten eggs. “You didn’t eat much.”

“It’s enough to get me through this. I’m going to do this one right this time.”

He took both plates to the sink and left them there, turning to lock his gaze with hers. “You’ll do what I say, Tansy. It’s my job to keep you safe—and sane. Wear the gloves. If they have to come off, fine, we’ll cross that bridge when we need to, but start off with the gloves and see what kinds of impressions you get.”

“You’re handicapping me.”

“I don’t really give a damn, now, do I?”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Tansy shook her head. “We’re never going to find them if you don’t let me do my job.”

He refused to argue with her. He simply followed her down the hall and picked up the gloves, shoving them into her hands.

Tansy pulled on the protective gloves and stood at the table, peering down at the ivory game pieces. She’d already felt the surges of energy, some much more potent than others, and now that she was tuned, the collective pieces gave off a frightening vortex of energy, whirling into one violent mass. Even with the gloves covering her skin, the violence was tangible as she leveled her palm over the top of the last ivory piece from the East Coast.

Without actually touching it, Tansy studied the intricately detailed knife. The blade was sharp and had tiny notches in it. She frowned. Ordinarily she would think the notches might be imperfections, but the carver was too good and had too big of an ego to let anything he worked on be less than perfect.

“The puppet master believes he’s smarter than everyone else and he wants them to see him without really seeing. He wants his genius to be in front of them, easy to read, but not to really ‘get’ it. That way, he can gloat and prove to himself over and over that he’s superior, even to enhanced psychics.”

“Is he enhanced?”

She drew a breath, allowing her palms to be so close only a piece of paper could separate her from the game piece. The surge of energy was potent and filled with violence. The one she had dubbed “Blade” was definitely a dominant. She wondered what Kadan’s energy would feel like if he wasn’t shielding her. She imagined it would be something like this. Waves of force, relentless and sure. Blade had to be the East Coast team leader of the game. She didn’t want to read him right now; she was trying to get a feel for the puppet master.

“I can’t tell. Not like this. His energy is very subtle, but I think he weaves it that way.”

Tansy concentrated on the ego, the biggest part of him. The man was fastidious; she had the impression of someone who was very conscious of his clothes and style. He wanted to look well groomed, a GQ man. He wanted to appear cool and sophisticated without drawing attention to himself. He had money . . . She pulled her hands away abruptly, another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

“This is about money.”

Kadan frowned. She was already pale, the drain on her tremendous, and they’d barely gotten started. He could feel the energy in her mind, dark and violent, swirling with edges of red, but she hadn’t immersed herself in it at all. “What’s about money, Tansy?” Sometimes he thought she put herself in a trance, her eyes opaque and distant, gleaming with that violet-silver shine.

“The murder game. It’s all about money. That’s your connection.”

He shook his head. “I looked into insurance payoffs. A few of them had insurance. One or two left a hefty inheritance for a family member, but the majority don’t have enough money attached to raise a flag.”

“The two boys. The ones Frog killed. Did they have insurance on them?” Tansy sank into a chair because her legs felt rubbery.