Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(108)

Brady the security guard was waiting to walk her to her car. Brian stopped to say good night to Fred, and Saber breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want another prolonged chat with him before she had a chance to talk to Jess.

“It was a good show,” Brady greeted. “I listened while I did my rounds.”

She sent him a sharp glance. Now she was paranoid. Brady was a friend of Jess’s from his navy days. He’d been a SEAL and had started a security service. Why shouldn’t he listen to her show while he made his rounds? The job had to be boring most of the time.

She forced a tired smile. “Thanks. I wasn’t into it like usual, so I’m glad the show didn’t sound too bad.”

Brady was a big man and light on his feet. He had the restless eyes of a lot of the SEALs, scanning their surroundings as they moved across the parking lot to her car. She stayed close, her hand brushing his arm occasionally, the touch so light he barely felt it, but it was enough to allow her to feel the steady rhythm of his heart.

Saber drew in air, let it out, concentrating on the steps to the car, all the while watching Brady, aware of every body movement. Tension built and she couldn’t stop it. Everything felt wrong. A step out of place, but she wasn’t certain why. Time slowed down, tunneled, while her heart beat the same rhythm as his. Brady was her guard. He’d been walking her to her car for nearly a year, yet all of a sudden, she no longer felt safe with him.

“What is it, Saber?”

His voice was quiet. She felt the concern in him and forced herself to smile again. “I don’t know. I’m a little skittish.”

Brady put his hand on her arm and swept her behind him as they approached her car. “You should have said something. When you think something is wrong, it usually is.” He pulled his gun from his shoulder harness and stepped toward her car.

“Brady, let’s go back inside,” Saber said. “I feel exposed out here.”

There was little cover in the parking lot. A few trees and shrubs spread out, but most of it was asphalt. She glanced around uneasily.

Brady immediately stepped back toward her. The bullet caught him low on his thigh and spun him around. He went down hard, his large body sprawling out, but his gun was still rock steady in his hand. Saber dropped down and crawled to where he lay.

“Get to cover.”

“How bad?” She put both hands over his heart to feel the extent of the damage.

Brady shoved at her. “He’ll be coming to finish me off. Get the hell out of here, Saber. There’s no cover.”

She caught his arm. “Push with your feet. Hurry.”

“Leave me. You’ve got to get out of here.” But he pushed with his heels as she dragged him between the cars.

“Shoot out the lights.”

Brady didn’t ask questions, he fired several shots. Glass shattered, raining down from all four corners of the lot.

“Well, at least you’re a good shot.” She renewed her grip on his arm. “Keep moving.”

“I hope you have a plan.”

“I always have a plan.” Saber kept dragging him, staying low to the ground. Let their attacker think they were sheltering between the cars. “I can see in the dark, like a cat, Brady. Keep moving, we only have to make it to the edge there.”

“There’s a dropoff.”

“Yeah, I know.” She’d studied the area thoroughly over the past year, committing the landscape to memory just in case she had to escape fast. She figured this qualified.

“Saaaaber.” The voice sounded eerie coming out of the dark. “Saaaaber.”

“Great. It’s the whack job sperm donor. Sheesh.”

Brady muffled his snort.

Saber pulled at his arm harder, silently cursing that she didn’t have the kind of strength needed for carrying big men. Whitney had physically enhanced her, but more with the ability to jump, to turn herself into a pretzel, get in small places. Her strength was more than adequate for lifting herself and dangling for long periods of time by her fingertips, but Brady was nearly dead weight. She was beginning to sweat, fearing they might not make it.

“When this is over, lose a little weight, Brady,” she hissed in his ear.

“It’s all muscle, ma’am.”

There was little moon, so he couldn’t appreciate the eye rolling. She could see the stain spreading now, inky black in the dark. “What is it about Navy SEALs? Do you all have to be so macho?”

She was talking more to distract herself from the task of pulling Brady’s large body and the fear of a bullet striking them. She kept close to the cars as long as she could before dragging him into the open. They had to go slow, not draw the eye. Hopefully their attacker would be concentrating on watching between the cars. It would make sense for them to try to stay concealed and the cars were the only real cover available.

“Saaaaber.” The call came again. Distorted. Taunting. Disturbed.

They stayed silent as they made their way with painstaking slowness across the ten feet separating the asphalt from the rough terrain. The wild grass was kept low around the edges of the parking lot to minimize the risk of fire.

“Be ready with your gun, Brady,” she whispered. “We’re going to be very exposed right here. Hopefully I can get you onto the grass without drawing his eye. It’s going to hurt like hell. Are you ready?”