Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(25)
Sam and Thorn slipped into the dense brush and hugged the ground. It was a little ironic that they’d spent most of their time together in such close proximity. He probably knew her body much more intimately than anyone she’d grown up around—and she knew his. She sent him another grin, her eyes lighting with mischief. She couldn’t help it. He made her feel so alive, every nerve ending lighting up and aware.
You alive, Sam?
The voice startled Thorn. She heard it clearly and knew she was still linked to Sam. She knew he’d leave her mind, all that strength and warmth gone to leave her absolutely, utterly alone. She’d never realized she’d felt alone. She loved her adopted father and brothers. They weren’t terribly demonstrative—but neither was she. Still, there was no way for them to understand just how truly different she really was. She didn’t belong anywhere. She never felt entirely comfortable with anyone until she found herself fighting beside Sam.
Strangely, she seemed to know what he was going to do and she trusted that he’d get it done. He seemed to afford her the same trust. She’d always been a puzzle to everyone around her and even to herself, but with Sam, he’d put all the pieces together, using parts of himself, and they just fit together. She took a breath and saw him look at her—a look of regret. And then he was gone and for one terrible moment, it was unbearable to be Thorn again.
Her entire body shuddered, as if the mental leaving was also physical. Biting ice cold swept through her veins so that she had to grind her teeth to keep them from chattering. The scars on her body and in her mind banded tight, robbing her of breath and reason—but only for a brief moment. She was Thorn. No one, nothing was going to defeat her. She took a breath and looked away from warmth and happiness. Bleak cold settled over her once again.
Sam glanced at Azami. Ryland’s voice was loud in his head and he hadn’t yet detached himself from her. He knew he had no choice, but he’d never felt so reluctant to do something of paramount importance to his team. He knew she would see the unhappiness in his eyes, but in that moment he didn’t care how vulnerable he was to her. The loss of her would be a terrible blow when she’d filled every empty space with her strength and conviction. With her humor.
He took a deep breath and let go of her. The loss rocked him as he knew it would, leaving him strangely cold and for one bloody second, without hope. He actually experienced grief before he clamped down hard on his strange and entirely inappropriate emotions, turning himself back into stone. He found it odd to feel so completely lonely when he’d never minded being alone. Without her in his mind, he felt he’d lost too much of himself.
Sam shook his head. We’re fine. We’ve got a Jeep full of mercenaries to drive off, and you’ve got trained soldiers in that helicopter. Iranian.
There was a small silence as Ryland digested that shocking bit of information. You’re certain?
That’s affirmative. Are the other two civilians safe?
Yes.
Sam detested what he was about to do. Guilt ate at him, a terrible stone in his gut, but it had to be done. I don’t believe Azami is who they claim she is. She has many of the same gifts I do. She can teleport and she’s psychic. Kadan and Nico have to really watch the other two. I’ve been uneasy from the first, but I don’t have an idea what’s really going on.
Roger that.
Ryland’s matter-of-fact voice was a comfort. Sam had conveyed uneasiness from the moment he’d approached the trio of visitors from Samurai Telecommunications, but he hadn’t actually warned his team something was off. He’d waited for Kadan or Nico to raise the alarm, to at least feel the strange warning that he couldn’t shake, but neither had said anything.
I think they’re all armed to the teeth, at least for certain she is and she fights like one of us. We’ve got five Mexicans in a Jeep, everyone else on the ground is dead.
Cleaning crew on the way and Gator’s in position to tail them. Let at least one go.
Roger that. But he didn’t feel good about hunting with Azami, allowing her to put herself in danger when he’d just betrayed her.
Dr. Whitney was an implacable enemy and he wanted the children. Lily and Ryland had a baby boy in the compound, and more than anything else, he had to be protected. Just a few miles farther up the mountain, Team Two had twin babies and there was a softly whispered rumor that another woman was pregnant. No one spoke of it, to keep the information from reaching Whitney, who seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere. In San Francisco, another GhostWalker couple had a baby too, and if Lily purchased this satellite from Samurai Telecommunications, the Yoshiie family would visit both compounds as well to install software.
Sam couldn’t take the chance that Azami was involved in a plot to aid Whitney. He couldn’t see what she would get out of it, but there was no taking a chance with the children. He found he couldn’t look at her. The terrible knots tightened to the point of cramping in his belly. He pushed himself up as the sounds of the helicopter and gunfire faded away.
“We’ve still got to harass the ones in the Jeep.” He kept his face averted, his features expressionless, and his tone gruff.
“Sam.”
His name was a whisper of sound. Soft like snowfall or the drop of the leaves in the fall. He took a breath. She didn’t continue—just waited for him to face her. Silence stretched between them, but she wouldn’t bend, demanding he face her.