Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(77)

She studied Paul’s face. He doesn’t belong in the military. He has too much empathy to kill, Kane. He shouldn’t be around violence.

No. They put him with us to protect him from Whitney. His psychic ability is ... amazing. But don’t shortchange him; Paul gets the job done when it’s needed.

“Who did this surgery?” Excitement edged Paul’s voice.

Rose tensed. There was no way he could know. No way. Just in case, she eased away from the two men, putting a little distance between them.

“Eric Lambert,” Kane replied.

Paul shook his head impatiently, brushing off the quick answer. “No, before the doc. Who was in the field with you? Who worked on you in the field?”

Kane shrugged. “Sorry, Paul, it was one of the team. I was out of it.” He looked at Rose. “Do you remember?”

She avoided his eyes. She had promised herself she would never lie to him, and if they were alone ...

“I do,” Javier stirred from the shadows.

Rose jumped. She’d almost forgotten about him. He blended, perfectly still, until he was part of the wall he had draped himself on. His gaze moved over her with open speculation—and something else. If she had done anything at all to harm Kane ... She shivered at the dark promise there. She was very good at assessing threats, and in spite of all the skills the rest of this team had, Javier was truly the most dangerous—and unpredictable—of them all. His protective and loyalty instincts must have been off the charts when they tested him.

“What’s wrong, Paul?” Javier continued.

“Brilliant fieldwork. He would have bled out, but someone repaired the artery; I just can’t see how.” Paul narrowed his gaze, stepping closer to Kane and actually crouching down to peer upward toward his abdomen and chest.

“There’s a definite wound site, the artery spliced together in some way.”

The darkness gathering in Javier’s eyes disappeared, and he flashed Rose a smile. “You saved your man, didn’t you? What exactly did you do?”

Paul pushed Kane’s shirt out of the way. “Clean cut. This is where he went in . . .” He broke off as Javier’s words penetrated. He blinked rapidly as if coming back from a great distance. Very slowly he stood, regarding Rose with awe. “You did this? How? You have to tell me what you did.” Excitement made his voice shake. “You know you saved his life. He would have bled out in minutes.”

Kane must have sensed her reticence, because he reached out and took her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. The small gesture comforted her. She shrugged, trying to look casual. They thought they knew about protecting themselves from Whitney, but she’d been under the scrutiny of cameras and microphones nearly all of her life. She knew what it was like to live under a microscope. It had become obvious, at a very early age, that each of the girls Whitney was experimenting on needed to hide as many of their abilities from him as possible.

She thought she’d have the chance to learn trust slowly—with just Kane. She hadn’t counted on his family. His team, with the exception of Paul, had grown up together, and Kane trusted all of them. He expected her to do the same. Panic hovered close. She could barely breathe.

You can do this, sweetheart. You don’t have to answer questions. This is your home. There are no expectations.

His voice caressed her. She forced her head up and looked into his eyes. She could live there. The way he looked at her—as if she was his entire world—it was a heady, potent experience, one she didn’t entirely trust. But she wanted to trust him. She wanted this to work. When she made up her mind to do something, she committed 100 percent. She wasn’t going to wimp out now.

“Rose, please,” Paul’s voice trembled with excitement.

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen and—seriously—the closest thing to what I can do. I’ve never met anyone like me.”

She heard the loneliness—the idea that he could be a freak of nature. All of them battled with being “different.” They always would. She could see how isolated Paul must have felt growing up. His father was a big man, a man who was disciplined and understood violence. Paul was just the opposite—a natural-born healer with tremendous empathy for those around him. His father probably had tried to understand him, but how could he? The boy was sensitive, and the idea of killing had to be abhorrent to him.

In some ways, even among the GhostWalkers, Paul was still isolated. He wasn’t a soldier by choice. He was far too empathetic to kill. He was a healer, a poet, a man whose very soul cried out for gentleness, yet he was surrounded by extremely violent men. She could see both Kane and Javier were protective of him, but they didn’t understand him.

“How? You have to tell me how.”

While she could do some extraordinary things, she wasn’t quite as empathetic. She made a good soldier and she knew she did. Paul seemed a little lost. She looked from him to Javier and Kane. These men had accepted the boy into their world—their family. They offered him their loyalty and complete acceptance, which he obviously needed. He would give the same back to them tenfold.

If it’s easier, Rose, I can take Javier into the other room.

She took a breath and shook her head. She suddenly found she wanted to be a part of them as well. She wanted that same acceptance. If she became one of them—like Paul had become one of them—Javier would give her the same loyalty he gave his family members. She wanted his respect and his protection, for her and for Sebastian. It was difficult to let go of her fears—she had so many—but she’d always believed in facing her fears.