Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)(68)
“What?” She scowled at him. “Are you crazy?”
“Right here. Right now. You kiss me.”
“Or what? You’re going to go play hide-and-seek with more killers? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Gator caught her arms and pulled her to him, his mouth coming down on hers. “He’s spotted us and he’s coming toward us. For God’s sake, don’t kill him. Can you get a good jump off your leg?” He whispered the words into her mouth, breathing into her, his tongue :easing even as he issued the warning.
“I’ll go left,” she said.
“We need him to escape and lead us back to whoever sent him,” he reminded, tightening his grip on her.
She kissed him back, leaning into him, pretending to be oblivious to the approaching man. She couldn’t help enjoying Raoul’s mouth or the subtle way his body moved against hers. All the while she listened for the approach of the man stalking them.
He was right on them when she felt rather than heard Gator say “now” against her lips. Simultaneously they crouched and leapt, pushing off each other, springing up into the air and backward, Flame to the left, Gator to the right, somersaulting in perfect synchronization to land behind their enemy. Flame saw the gun in his hand and he instinctively turned toward Gator, thinking him the bigger threat. She launched herself in the air again, this time wrapping her legs around the man’s neck in a scissors hold.
They both went down hard. He lost his grip on his rifle, reaching back to try to break her hold before she strangled him. Flame locked her legs together, exerting more pressure in an effort to subdue him fast. He pounded on her leg with his fist, three short, hard punches that took her breath away. Her leg was already damaged from the day before and she couldn’t focus away from the pain enough to keep the pressure on him.
Gator kicked their assailant in the head hard as he reached down and jerked her to her feet. “He’s got partners. Get out of here. There are more of them.” He shoved her toward the canal. “Run, damn it.”
She didn’t hear anything, but she felt the telltale rush of her senses, a heavy dread that signaled far more danger. Flame ran, but her leg was throbbing, every step jarring her. She tried to hide it, jumping over the fallen logs in their way and racing toward safety. Gator dropped behind her, covering her back as they zigzagged through the e and brush to leap into the reed-choked canal. He shoved her underwater as bullets spit into the water around them. Keeping contact, they dove as deep as possible, using the rotting logs and plants on the bottom to pull them away from the island and out toward more open water.
With the enhancement of their bodies, both could stay underwater far longer than normal so they swam away from the island and the debris of the houseboat. Gator directed her with hand signals on her body and she followed him until her lungs were burning. She tapped his shoulder to signal she needed to go up for air. They were in much deeper water. He signaled that they needed to make it a few more feet ahead.
Flame knew Raoul had a specific spot in mind, somewhere safe, but her body was wearing out. She’d noticed that lately she didn’t have the stamina she usually had. She caught his belt loop, afraid she’d try to surface before they were safe and she’d get him killed. She’d always worked alone and having someone else to worry about was frightening—especially when she liked him so much. Too much.
She gasped as they came up, gulping for air, dragging it into her burning lungs. Gator came up behind her, his arm circling her waist. They were screened from the island by both a rise in the contour of the island as well as plants growing along the edge of the basin they were in.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, controlling her heartbeat and the adrenaline charging through her system. “Why the hell didn’t we hear them? We should have known they were there. What’s going on?” She hadn’t been afraid of the first hunter, but something about the eerie stillness, the complete silence of the others had given her the willies. It hadn’t even been the same feeling as with the sniper the day before. She’d known he was there. The swamp had known it. But these men had been able to hide their presence not only from Raoul and her, hut also from the swamp itself.
Gator studied the shore surrounding the island. There was only one man he knew of that could be that silent. That scary. That much of a ghost. Kadan Montague could move through the world almost as if he were invisible. No one really knew how he did it—not even the other GhostWalkers. He was quiet and dangerous, a strong telepath and a man few argued with. He had gifts none of them really understood and even Lily wasn’t talking much about them. One of Kadan’s strongest talents was his ability to shield the entire team from detection. Had that talent been duplicated in another man? Gator had the sinking feeling it could be so.
“Do you know them?” Flame asked.
She was shivering in the water. The rain had begun again, a relentless downpour that added to their misery.
“I don’t know. I didn’t catch a glimpse of any of them. Did you?”
She shook her head. “The big one is heading back toward the road. I can hear him. He’s limping.” There was satisfaction in her voice.
It couldn’t be Kadan. Gator was almost certain of that, but the fact remained, whoever was in the swamp was trained in Special Forces, and they were enhanced.
* * *
Christine Feehan's Books
- Christine Feehan
- Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)
- Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)
- Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)
- Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)
- Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)
- Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)
- Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)
- Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)
- Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)