Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(15)

Saber parked her small Volkswagen bug beside Jess’s large, custom-made van. Her car looked incongruous next to the huge bulk of the van. She glared at the pair of cars, thinking of how many times Jess had teased her about how small she was. She kicked the tire in a spurt of resentment. So like the two of them. Mutt and Jeff. She didn’t belong here. She could never belong here and she had to get the backbone to leave—and soon.

The large house seemed unusually dark and spooky as she entered it. Saber resisted the urge to flood the room with light, not wanting to disturb Jess. She did enough of that on the nights she didn’t work, keeping him awake with her phobias.

There was no sound to warn her, yet suddenly Saber couldn’t breathe, adrenaline pumping into her body, freezing her halfway through the foyer. There was no scent, no breath, no stirring of the air, but she knew, an eternity too late, she wasn’t alone.

Something snagged her ankles and she sprawled facedown on the hardwood floor, the breath knocked from her body. Before she could roll or retaliate, she felt the cold, deadly kiss of a gun barrel pressed against the nape of her neck.

It all happened in seconds, yet time slowed down so that everything was crystal clear for Saber. The faint lemon in the polish on the wood floor, the beating of her heart, the pain in her lungs, the deadly feel of metal against her skin. Everything stilled as if she’d been waiting.

They were here. They had hunted her, stalked her, and now they were here. Jesse. Oh God, she thought wildly. Jess was alone, asleep, vulnerable—what if they had hurt Jesse? Her vision tunneled, everything inside her coiling, ready to strike. She would have to kill the intruder in order to protect Jesse. Even if her assailant killed her, she would have to take him with her.

The moment she put her hands palms down to push up off the floor, he shoved harder with the gun. “Don’t do it.”

She had to get her hands on him, make him think she was a woman terrified out of her mind. She just needed that one moment where she could wrap her hand around his wrist, feel his pulse, his heartbeat…Saber went crazy, thrashing, trying to turn, arms flailing out at the gun to knock it aside. “Go ahead, shoot! Do it! Get it over with. I’m not running from you anymore.” She caught at the gleaming barrel as she sat up, pulled it against her head. “Do it!” She judged the distance to his wrist. A moment, just one heartbeat and she had him.

To her surprise, her assailant suddenly swore and yanked the gun back.

“Saber!” Jess’s voice was hoarse with a mixture of fear and anger. “Are you out of your mind sneaking in here like that? I could have shot you.”

Fury and relief met fear head on, mingled, and melted together in a violent swirl of emotion she couldn’t contain. “You pulled a gun on me?” She flung herself at him, swinging at him with a clenched fist. She could have killed him—had come within a hairsbreadth of killing Jesse. Oh God, she could never—never—have lived with that.

He caught both of her wrists, tipped her off balance, and brought her up hard against his legs. “Stop it, Saber.” He gave her a little shake when she continued to struggle. “I had no idea you were coming home. It’s hours early. You hate the dark and yet you didn’t turn on a single light.” He made the words an accusation.

She was trembling uncontrollably, so close to tears it terrified her. “I was being considerate,” she hissed. “Which is more than I can say for you. Let go of me, you’re hurting me.” She could have killed him. She would have killed him. Why hadn’t she known it was him? She always recognized his scent, his warmth. She hadn’t even recognized his voice. Maybe she had on some level afterward, but not at first, not when he’d come at her in the dark. Why? What had been different? Her mind raced with questions, but anger and hurt and terror overtook reason.

“Are you calm?”

“Don’t patronize me. You put a gun to my head. God! I live here, Jesse, I can come and go as I please. And what are you doing sitting up at one o’clock in the morning, lights out, with a gun?” she demanded.

Suddenly she knew. She felt another’s presence, a witness to her hysterical outburst. Stiffening, she turned slowly. Saber caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure hastily backing out of sight. Tall, abundant curves. Saber’s heart plunged right down to her toes. A woman. Jesse was with a woman in the middle of the night. A stranger. With the lights off. Worse, Jess was so willing to protect that stranger that he had actually lain in wait with a gun. Betrayal was a bitter taste in Saber’s mouth. And why hadn’t she scented the woman?

A small flame began to smolder. Had he held the woman in his strong arms? Run his hands through her hair? Kissed her the way Saber had so longed for him to kiss her? Oh God, they’d probably been making love, right there in the living room. The fire spread. And the woman had witnessed Saber’s lack of control. Her gaze was riveted to Jess’s hard features. It was a silent accusation of betrayal and she didn’t give a damn if he knew how she felt. She’d spent way too long here, risked too much. Damn you to hell for this.

Saber evaded his instinctive move toward her, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. She felt betrayed, utterly betrayed. If it was possible to hate Jess, right at that moment, she did.

“Saber.” There was an ache in his voice.

She whirled around and ran up the stairs, for the first time in years not caring or even noticing that the lights were out. She went straight through to her bedroom, her chest burning, fighting for air, her head pounding. She flung her shoes one after the other at the wall and threw herself facedown on the bed. If this was normal, it sucked. She didn’t want normal anymore. She wanted to disappear, let Saber Wynter die and someone else, someone who didn’t—couldn’t—feel like this take her place.