Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)(39)

"Yeah, I guess she did. She always knew."

Lily blinked back tears. "What happened to her?"

There was a small silence. "I surprised her with a visit and she decided she had to make me one of her famous dinners. We drove to the grocery store. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit us. I survived but she didn't."

"I'm so sorry, Ryland. She sounds like she must have been extraordinary. I would love to have met her."

"I miss her. She always had a way of saying the right thing at exactly the moment it needed to be said." like Lily. He was beginning to think Lily shared that same trait

"Do you think she was a natural adept?"

"A psychic? Maybe. She knew things. But mostly she was just a wonderful mother. She told me she took classes and read books to find out how to raise a kid." Amusement tinged his voice. "Apparently I didn't react like the kids in the books."

"I'll bet you didn't." Lily wanted to hold and comfort him. She could feel his aching loneliness and it ate at her. She smothered a groan. It didn't seem to matter how reasonable her arguments were, the attraction to Ryland only grew in his company. The need to see him happy and healthy was fast becoming essential to her own happiness.

"I gave her a lot of trouble," he admitted. "I was always fighting."

"Why does that not surprise me?" She lifted an eyebrow at him, but it was the small smile hovering along the curve of her mouth that caught his attention.

He sat on the edge of his bed, raked both hands through his hair. "Living where we did, we were fair game for comments. Both Mom and me. I was kid enough to think I had to defend us, to take care of us."

"You still are like that," she pointed out. "It's a rather charming trait." She sighed with regret, knowing time was slipping away from her. She enjoyed his company, enjoyed talking with him. "I have to go, Ryland. I have so much work to do on other things. I'll be back before I leave for the night to check on you."

"No, Lily, just take off." His gray gaze was steady on hers. He stood up, fatigue in every muscle of his body. He walked over to the bars, even though each step seemed to drive spikes through his head.

She sucked in her breath audibly. "Maybe you should wait."

"I can't afford to take the chance, Lily. Clear out and stay clear."

She nodded, a small frown touching her mouth. Her profile was to him, she was deep in thought, and Ryland took the opportunity to allow himself the luxury of drinking in her voluptuous figure. There were no hard angles on Lily, she was all feminine curves. Her white coat was thrown over her clothes carelessly, moving when she moved, giving intriguing glances of generous breasts. When she walked, the material of her slacks stretched across her round bottom, drawing his attention. Her body was a blatant temptation he couldn't think about too much, without going up in flames. He would have her. She would walk beside him, lie beneath him, come alive, come apart in his arms. She was his match in every way, she just hadn't accepted it yet.

"You're doing it again, Captain," she reminded, a gentle reprimand, the color flaring under her pale skin.

His hands curled around the bars of his cage, his palms itching to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. "Not yet, I'm not, Lily." He said the words beneath his breath, uncaring if she heard or not.

She stood there looking helpless for a moment, completely out of character. "Don't let anything happen to you," she whispered before she turned and left him there alone with his pain and his guilt and the cage holding him prisoner.





Seven

THE night was unexpectedly cold. Lily shivered as she looked up at the thin crescent shape of the moon. Dark clouds swirled across the sky, dulling the sparkling stars scattered above her. The wind tugged at her clothes and whipped strands of hair into her face and eyes. Threads of white fog whirled in small eddies, curling through the heavy wire of the fences, reaching toward her like ragged claws. She could smell the storm coming in off the sea.

"Dr. Whitney! I thought you'd gone home for the night." A tall guard emerged out of the shadows. He was one of the older, much more experienced men. Looking at him closely, she wondered if he were military.

She feigned fright, jumping as if startled. "You scared me, I didn't hear you."

"What are you doing out here?" There was a trace of worry in his voice. She wasn't wearing a jacket.

Lily shivered in the icy wind. "Breathing," she answered simply. "Wondering whether to go home and get some sleep or go back and work so I don't have to face my father not being there." She raked her fingers through her thick hair.

"It's cold out here, Dr. Whitney. I'll walk you to your car." The note of concern caused tears to burn behind her eyes, to clog her throat. Grief welled up, sharp and clear and strong. She had shoved sorrow and the knowledge of her father's death aside all day, held it at bay with work, all the while meticulously planning the aftermath of the escape. Guilt fed her stormy emotions. If anyone should be harmed in the escape it would fall directly on her shoulders. Peter Whitney had told her what he wanted, what his last wishes were, but ultimately, it was her responsibility.

There had already been enough mistakes made by the Whitneys, and she was uncertain whether she was doing more harm than good. What if the men couldn't survive outside the conditions of the laboratory? Their escape would give Higgens the excuse needed to carry out any plan he had to terminate any who opposed him. It would brand any in the military as a deserter.