Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(90)

“Frog tied her just below the surface of the water so she could see freedom, but couldn’t reach it. There were several people, like a colony of them tied down just like that. I saw a cylinder, like an air tank, and there was a logo on it, only it wasn’t me seeing the actual logo. It was him, Frog, he was whistling as he prepared an air tank, grinding the logo from the side of the tank.” She pressed her face closer to him, trying to crawl inside of him to escape her own mind.

Kadan stroked her hair several times in an attempt to soothe her. “How did you access Frog when you were handling Blade’s piece?”

Tansy’s voice receded, her mind clouding even with Kadan firmly in it. “The puppet master was thinking about him when he carved Blade’s piece. He doesn’t like Blade, but has a certain empathy for Frog.” Her voice trailed off and she began to rub at her arms. “I have to get it off of me.” She began to struggle, trying to wriggle away from him, rubbing harder at her arms. “Oh God. I have to get it off of me.”

Kadan held her at arm’s length, inspecting her as she writhed away from him. She fought in earnest, tearing at her skin, scrubbing at her breasts and belly, scratching and rubbing frantically.

“Help me. Why aren’t you helping me? Hurry. Get it off of me.” A sob welled up in her voice. She choked.

“Tansy, you’re safe,” he repeated. “There’s nothing on you.”

She erupted into violence, punching and kicking, trying to shred her clothes, tearing long scratches in her arms. He caught both wrists in one hand and pinned them together while she fought like a wildcat. He used the weight of his body, not wanting to risk hurting her, but she was gone again, her eyes sliding from awareness to opaque. Once again calmness receded a little to let fear slide in. He didn’t want her anywhere near the puppet master in her condition.

“Tansy, look at me.” He used his most commanding, his most compelling voice. For a moment she went still, her gaze locking with his. “What’s all over you?”

“Blood.” The one word was chilling.

His heart nearly stopped. He could hear the voices in her head screaming, the victims pleading, the sound of their sobs. Over the top of the dead came the taunting laughter of the murderers, so many of them, their vile sickness spreading like a cancer.

She began to squirm again, her breath coming in ragged gasps, tears welling up. “Why won’t you help me? I didn’t do this.” She flung her head back and forth in denial.

“No, baby, you didn’t,” he agreed softly and stood up in one easy motion, flinging her over his shoulder, her head draping down his back. He took her through to the bathroom, his face grim, a vise gripping his heart. As soon as he had the water temperature right, he stood her struggling body on the floor and began to strip her.

Tansy tore at her clothes, desperate to remove the thick coating on her skin and hair. It was under her fingernails and in her eyes. She ripped at the material of her clothes, never wanting to see them again. In the shower, the moment he placed the washcloth in her hand, she began to scrub, hot tears pouring down her face, mingling with the water raining down on her. She was so cold, her body shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering until she was afraid they’d chip or shatter. She reached for the hot water tap, but Kadan’s hand caught her wrist.

You’ll burn yourself. It’s gone now, Tansy. You’re clean.

There he was. In her mind, protecting her. The relief was overwhelming. I couldn’t find you. I thought you . . . She trailed off, unsure where she was or what she was doing. She was so confused she reached for him again, not understanding what was happening to her.

I’m right here, Tansy. His voice was calm, mesmerizing, soft and low, filling her mind with warmth. He seemed an anchor, very steady and strong when she was so confused.

Tansy became aware of the water pouring down on her. Of her naked body hurting, of her hand scrubbing at her skin, causing abrasions, nearly taking off the top layer. Startled, frightened, feeling disoriented, she knew this had happened before. She’d stood in a shower, tearing the skin from her body. Her parents had wrapped her in blankets and taken her to a hospital, where she’d spent weeks locked up for her own protection. She was lost again, trapped inside her own mind with such evil beings the world would never comprehend their behavior, and they would never let her go.

No! Damn you, no! Kadan dragged her into his arms, holding her tight. You aren’t lost. You aren’t with them. You’re here. With me. Look at me, Tansy. He caught her shoulders, shaking her gently, staring down into her eyes, determined to bring her back to him. “Look at me now.” His fingers bit deep enough to cause pain, to override the trance and drag her back to reality.

Tansy knew she was reeling back and forth between her hypnotic state and actual time. She concentrated on the bite of pain in her shoulders. She felt each individual finger digging into her flesh, nearly to the bone. Recognizing Kadan’s touch brought her a little more into the present. She grabbed at that, at his warmth and the solidness of him.

“Look at me.”

She heard that note distinctly—the edge to his voice, the absolute authority and command that often annoyed her, yet now was her lifeline. She obeyed him, because one always obeyed Kadan when he used that tone. She struggled to look beyond the veil coating her eyes, the one that imprisoned her in her own mind, so that she could comply with Kadan’s demand. It took strength and determination, but she managed to raise her gaze to his.