Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(105)

Trap’s gaze jumped to Wyatt’s. He embraced the cold. Hid himself there. Became a f*cking glacier. His hands were steady. He knew his eyes were devoid of all feeling because he wasn’t feeling. He couldn’t feel. Not without her. Not ever again. He’d given himself this one last chance. One. To live. To not be the cold lethal monster he’d shaped himself into in order to exact revenge.


“Trap.” Ezekiel’s voice penetrated the ice in his veins. “The girls have to breathe. So do we. You don’t get it under control, none of us is going to make it back to her.”


Trap looked around him, blinking to bring it all in focus. The air density surrounding and in the boat went back to normal. He couldn’t reach Cayenne. She wasn’t there anymore. He took a deep breath and let it out.


“When have I ever lost control, Zeke?” His voice was as devoid of feeling as the rest of him. There was nothing left but ice – and the need to kill.


“Malichai reached out. He’s taking out the bullets. She’s alive, but they’ve got trouble, at least two, maybe three more coming at them. Gino’s in the swamp and Draden’s on the roof,” Wyatt reported.


“Wyatt, you can’t take the girls to the house. Let me off in the swamp, the trail we made leading through will bring me in behind them.” Trap stared straight ahead. It was up to Malichai, not him, to save Cayenne. But he could kill everyone who had tried to take her from him. He’d spent a lifetime learning how. And if she survived… this bullshit was never. Ever. Fucking. Happening. Again.


CHAPTER 17


The moment Trap’s foot touched dry land, he was running, merging with the brush and trees, heading into the dense vegetation toward the narrow trail the GhostWalkers had created to allow them access through the swamp between their homes. He expanded his senses to encompass the area between him and the house. Gino was already reaching toward him with his mind and they nearly collided there in that psychic place.


I’m coming toward you. Draden’s on the roof. Pepper is armed inside while Malichai and Nonny work on your woman. Draden took out their sniper. We’ve got at least three more approaching the house.


Four, Trap corrected. I’m coming in behind them. I’ll take out as many as I can, you stay close to the house to keep any of them from getting to the others.


A third voice entered the conversation. I’m a couple of miles from the house, in the bayou, Wyatt said. Getting the girls undercover. I hear helicopters. Two of them. Draden, if you’re exposed, you need to use the blinds.


One of the first changes made to both Wyatt’s home and Trap’s was the installation of cover for the men using sniper rifles on the rooftops. They could slip into one of the camouflaged tubes that looked part of the roof and never be seen, even from the sky.


Helicopters mean business, Trap said. They’re coming at us with more than a five-man team. Pay attention to the swamp side. They won’t make their entry via water because they’ll be too exposed. They’ll have gunners on the helicopter. Draden, can you take them out?


If they expose themselves, Draden replied.


Trap never slowed down, using a ground-eating pace to cover the distance and fall in behind the team moving in for the kill. He couldn’t think about another team approaching the house from a different direction. He had to trust Gino, Draden and Pepper for the moment.


He heard the sound of a footfall and the whisper of clothes brushing through leaves. He kept moving fast – very fast – maintaining silence. He spotted the rear guard. He was running at a much slower pace than Trap, his automatic cradled in his arms as he scanned the surrounding swamp. It was more cursory than anything else. He had no idea death was a pace behind him.


Trap transferred his knife to his left hand as he came up on the man. His hand snaked out and he sliced the vulnerable throat as he blew past. The cut was deep and long. He’d used a tremendous amount of strength as he swung his arm back to meet the man so the soldier literally ran into the slice of the blade. The cut nearly severed his head. Trap didn’t lose his pace, but kept running, not even looking back to see or hear the body fall.


One down, he reported.


Now he could hear the thump of the helicopter blades as the two machines closed in over the swamp, rushing to aid their team.


Helicopters over my head right now. Two gunners in position in each. I believe the team leader is directing the action from the second helicopter. For one heart-stopping moment, Trap allowed the full meaning of those two helicopters to penetrate.


His breath caught in his lungs and his stomach rebelled before he managed to shut that shit down. He couldn’t think that Whitney was sending everything he had against Cayenne. He wanted her dead. Gone. Whitney knew she was nearly indestructible and he couldn’t afford for her to be in play. That meant Whitney was brewing up some plot against the GhostWalkers or one of their members and he didn’t want interference.


Cayenne was small and could get in and out of places most of the GhostWalkers couldn’t, but still, how could one person be such a threat to Whitney? She hadn’t made a move to go after him. Why was it that Peter Whitney wanted her dead, so much so that he would send more than a five-man team after her? Why risk his soldiers? He didn’t have that many, and they didn’t last long. They weren’t psychologically prepared for their enhancements and most broke fast. He was also risking an entire team of GhostWalkers as well as Wyatt’s little girls. This attack made no sense.