Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(77)
She tilted her chin. “You wouldn’t say that to Ken or Mari. You can’t get into the house without being seen and you know it. I can. Patsy needs me and I’m going.” She tugged at her hand, trying to get free.
“I’m in a f*cking wheelchair. What’s going to happen if you get caught?”
“The wheelchair has never mattered, Jess. If something happens, you’ll get us out. I know you will.” Her blue eyes met his. “I trust you completely.”
He swore, his gaze angry, furious even, but he nodded his head, jerking her close and catching the back of her head to hold her still while he kissed her. He ground his mouth hard against hers.
She tasted the potent mixture of fear and anger, a fierce need to protect, helplessness, but most of all a predator unleashed. She kissed him back, trying to convey confidence and love all wrapped together.
Jess rested his forehead against hers, his fingers shaping the nape of her neck. “Stay in communication with me. I’m a strong telepath. I’ll hear you.”
“I will.”
“No, Saber. Promise me. No matter what’s going on. Don’t let your fear or your need to protect me stop you from telling me what’s happening. I’ll need all the data in order to have a plan of action.”
“I promise.” And she meant it. Because no matter what, Jess Calhoun was lethal, and if she needed him, he would find a way to get to her.
Jess reached up and flicked the overhead light off. “I’ll pull around to the back of the house, but you need to make certain the way is clear. If they have a guard posted, once I turn onto the drive, lights or not, they’ll know I’m heading for Patsy’s house.”
“I’ll clear the guard.”
He pulled a gun and silencer from a compartment behind the glove box. “Take this and the spare clip.”
“What about you?”
“I’m armed. Just be careful.” He kissed her again, this time gentle, tender, wanting her to feel loved. “I’ll be pissed if anything happens to you.”
“Right back at you,” Saber said and cracked open the door.
She dropped to the ground and took off running to the deepest part of the woods surrounding Patsy’s house without looking back. It had taken precious time to convince Jess to let her go in alone and she knew what it had cost him in pride. If it were anyone else but Patsy in danger, he would have tried to stop her—and a part of her found that thrilling. No one had ever worried about her before.
Lightning flashed again, this time rippling across the sky in a jagged bolt. Immediately thunder cracked so loud the trees and heavy brush shivered. Saber was drenched within moments of leaving the van, the cold penetrating through her thin clothing. She moved swiftly toward the house. She’d only been to Patsy’s house once before.
Saber had been living in Jesse’s house about five months and his sister had wanted to make certain Jess was safe with her. Patsy had asked Saber not to discuss their meeting with Jesse, and she hadn’t, but trying to hide anything from Jess was next to impossible. He had eyes and ears everywhere and he’d known about Patsy and Saber’s meeting even before it was over. Of course Jesse hadn’t been happy about his sister trying to protect him, but Saber had instantly liked her for it.
Saber slipped through the trees, approaching the side of the house. The rain poured down through the leaves, the pattern unmistakable, so when the discordant note was introduced, Saber sank back into the shrubbery near the windows and waited. Someone was patrolling around the perimeter of the house.
She waited, crouched low, breathing away the stark fear Patsy radiated from within the house. Even the vicious storm couldn’t tamp down the energy of violence, rather the wild winds and streaks of jagged lightning seemed to feed it until her stomach heaved in rebellion. She prayed Jess was far enough away from the house that he wasn’t picking up Patsy’s terror, or there’d be no holding him in the van.
As the guard approached, Saber dropped to her hands and knees. The guard was a short, stocky man with wide shoulders and an easy swing to his gait. He could handle himself and that wasn’t good. Saber willed him to stop, hoping she could get a hand on him, but he kept moving, watching the drive and all ways to approach the house. Panic began to creep in, flooding her system with adrenaline, and she knew Patsy was close to collapse.
Fighting off the waves of dizziness, she waited until the guard was almost on top of her and then rolled out from under the brush, right at his feet, the gun in her hand as she squeezed the trigger and hit him dead center in the forehead. She kept rolling as he toppled to the ground, facedown in the small puddle of water collecting in the flower bed. She landed next to several small ornamental trees, the violent energy crashing over her, piercing her skull like a thousand knives.
She tried to shut it out, pressing her hands to her head, but it was already inside, where she had no filters. There was no way to escape the pain, jackhammers pounding at her skull, the thunder of death, the silent scream of her victim. She rolled in agony, eyes closed, trying to breathe it away. She barely made it to her knees when her stomach rebelled, heaving over and over.
She had to get hold of herself. She was extremely vulnerable and Patsy desperately needed help. Unfortunately, even with a shield, if someone was torturing Patsy—and Saber was beginning to fear it was so—then the violent energy would slide under the shield and debilitate her, as this energy had done. Only an anchor could draw violent energy permanently away. The shield simply kept her energy from alerting others that she was close.