Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(8)
Rose covered her face and rocked back and forth. She knew he despised himself for getting her pregnant, for being unable to stop Whitney before he touched her, but he had no idea Whitney would never have considered pairing them if she hadn’t chosen him. Kane felt guilty, but she was the guilty party.
The baby kicked hard, and she automatically rubbed her palms over her swollen belly in a soothing motion. She could barely face him, barely look him in the eye, after what she’d done. She knew about the pheromones, knew once Whitney paired them, Kane would have no choice but to crave her body day in and day out. She’d seen the effect on the other men. They had been willing to kill to get to her. Willing to force her just to have her. She’d done that to Kane, a man with principles and honor.
She crushed down the memories and forced herself to stand. It had taken so much effort to be able to appear cool and in control, but she didn’t have to waste energy keeping up appearances.
“You and me, baby,” she whispered. “I’ll keep you safe.”
She felt very alone and vulnerable, her time too close, and she hadn’t established a safe birthing place. She’d made friends with a couple of women, one she’d been certain could help her give birth, but now the cartel had ruined that. She had to run fast and far, and now Kane had complicated everything—but she owed him. He thought it was the other way around, but she hadn’t been able to bear the idea of one of Whitney’s psycho soldiers touching her. They all made her skin crawl.
She’d watched Kane, the way he moved, the sound of his voice, the way he treated others. And she’d made that fateful decision. The baby kicked again, this time a little harder, breaking into her thoughts, and she found a small smile on her face as she rubbed her tummy again.
“You don’t like it when I’m upset, do you?” she asked softly. “I’m upset on your daddy’s behalf. I did a very bad thing, and I have no way to make up for it.” She moved in silence to the window and peered out.
Her lights had been off for hours, and she knew she’d established that pattern weeks ago. No one would think it odd. She kept to herself and stayed inside after dark, never turning on lights. The neighbors probably thought she tried to save money by not using electricity, but she had excellent night vision, thanks to Whitney’s enhancements. She stared at the street for some time. Kane and the others would be setting into action their plan to rescue the hostages. She had to quit feeling guilty and sorry for herself; that did no good, and there were two people who desperately needed help. She had seen the extreme violence the cartel was capable of. They would kill the hostages no matter what el presidente did. The GhostWalkers were their only hope.
She was already in dark clothing, and with her ability to camouflage her appearance, she knew she could aid the GhostWalker team should they need it. Her telepathy wasn’t particularly strong, but Kane’s was, and she tapped into the flow, knowing how to do so from when they were together working against Whitney.
She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to expand, to reach out for the flow of energy, into the current Kane generated with his team.
Working my way into position, Mack, Kane reported.
Let’s get this done. Mack was all business, and the familiar voice settled the tight knots in Kane’s gut. There was no way to go into a mission with his brain divided. He had to push Rose out of his mind and concentrate on getting the hostages out as quietly as possible. They expected to leave dead enemies behind, but they wanted to be quiet about it. This was a take-no-prisoners mission and needed complete silence. Moving now.
Mack was a blur, no more than a shadow as he went up the side of the building, retrieving the tiny star stairs as he went up, gaining the roof. In position, he reported.
Kane and Javier managed to gain the sidewalk just outside the two-story apartment building. It was their responsibility to ensure Mack and Ethan had a clear path through the building to the desert. Gideon would protect them from the roof and then make his way along the rooftops to the edge of the desert.
Kane waited, counting his heartbeats while loud voices boomed through the entryway to the apartments and then slowly—too slowly—faded. He bounced pressure waves through the walls. The entryway was empty, but there was a man two stairs up, just leaning against the wall.
On the right, he told Javier.
Javier was smaller, a lean killing machine, and his shadow would be less noticeable. The sentry would feel the draft and look up, but he’d be too late. Kane, knife in one hand, ready for the throw, opened the door with the other. Javier somersaulted in, coming to his feet just a scant distance from the stairs, his knife hurtling through the air to bury the blade in the sentry’s throat.
Kane slipped into the foyer, right behind Javier, allowing the sentry to catch a brief glimpse of him, just enough to distract him from the real threat. As Javier threw the knife, a second guard emerged from a room just to their left. Kane was on him, one hand muffling sound as the other delivered the killing blow with the blade. He shoved the body back in the room, and Javier added the second one. Neither bothered to do anything about the blood spatter. There was old blood on the floors and walls, some very recent, as if the apartments were used to violence.
We’re in, it’s a go, Kane said as he and Javier started up the stairs, taking care to feel each individual step for sound before they placed their feet.
Mack signaled Ethan, and Ethan slipped over the side of the building, making his way to the window, leaving behind the stars for Mack to use. There were no ropes, and no one would ever think they could climb up or down the two-story structure.