Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(23)
“I thought both of you were crazy until I met Cayenne,” Trap agreed. “She used her voice on me, and I knew I was up for the challenge. Admittedly, I fought it, but sometimes I woke up and smelled her scent in my room…”
“You what?” Wyatt, already on land, spun around and faced him. “And you didn’t tell us? We have holes in our security if she’s slippin’ through. We can’t risk that. Whitney has his own army of supersoldiers, Trap. We don’ know their abilities, but you can bet, since Whitney knows ours, when he decides to come after the girls, he’ll know what kind of enhanced soldier to send.”
Trap stepped out onto the spongy ground. He knew to follow in Wyatt’s footsteps to minimize the risk of discovery as well as to keep from falling through if the ground wasn’t completely firm. He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t certain whether I dreamt about her or if it was real. Not until tonight.”
Wyatt’s eyebrow shot up. “I don’ believe a word you’re sayin’, and if you believe it, you’re foolin’ yourself. This woman has you actin’ out of character, and you and I both know that will get someone killed – her included. One of the boys will take her out if she comes sneakin’ around.”
Trap swore under his breath. Wyatt was right. He’d known. He hadn’t wanted her to stop coming. He liked that she needed to be near to him. Yeah, he’d been vulnerable with her coming in while he slept. He’d never slept when someone was near. Not ever. Not since his father murdered his entire family. When he worked out in his lab before he’d joined the GhostWalker unit, he had all kinds of hidden sensors scattered throughout his house and the laboratory to warn him if anyone came near. He knew it was insanity to allow her into his room, but still, he hadn’t stopped her.
“I’m moving to my new home tomorrow,” he informed Wyatt, not apologizing. “After tonight, she’s going to be so angry with me for interfering with her business that she won’t come calling again.”
“If she doesn’t decide to kill you.” Wyatt swung around and began walking, staying to a narrow path just behind the brush and trees.
Trap smirked. “She’ll probably consider it, but she won’t do it. She couldn’t kill me anymore than I could kill her.”
“You’re bettin’ your life, Trap,” Wyatt said, holding his hand up for silence. They were both speaking softly, but they needed to cease talking altogether. Sound carried at night, and they were closing in on the canal leading to the Comeaux properties.
Yeah. Trap knew he was betting his life, but he was fairly certain the end result would be worth it. He had calculated the odds, because that was what he did. He ran the data through his brain and knew if he couldn’t stop thinking about her – if he couldn’t harm her – she couldn’t stop thinking about him and she wouldn’t want him permanently removed from her no matter what she said. She was fighting the pull between them, the same as he was.
Cayenne was a beautiful woman. Other men were going to try to court her. Maybe most men would run for the hills when they discovered she was dangerous. She would never reveal her enhanced abilities, but she wouldn’t be able to help showing her character. They’d be jealous and possessive, the exact same as he felt and they wouldn’t be able to handle her. But they were in Cajun country. If Gator and Wyatt Fontenot were anything to go by, Cajun men liked strong women. They liked a little wild in them.
Trap wasn’t taking any chances that another man might slip in there and try to claim her. He didn’t want to kill anyone over her, and he was fairly certain it could happen. He studied their surroundings as they made their way in absolute quiet, muting their footfalls as they moved. He needed to take his mind off the thought that another man might touch her – or kiss her. Or in any way draw her interest.
Trap, Wyatt hissed.
Trap glanced out into the water. Cypress trees grew along the bank, their knobby knees spread wide to make certain of survival. Gum trees grew higher on land. Brush and plants filled in between the trees, lending the island an unkempt appearance. This was the place of legends. The shimmer floating out over the water would add to that if anyone saw it. If Cayenne saw it, she would know he was close – and following her.
He took a deep breath. Where was the ice water running in his veins? His team referred to him as the iceman for a good reason. He was the one who went into the hottest spots and pulled out the soldiers torn and bleeding while the others covered him. He faced every dangerous situation without flinching. Over the years, he had forced himself to become the man he was – the man able to protect his family if his uncles – or anyone else – threatened.
Wyatt held up his closed fist, and Trap instantly went still. He opened his psychic senses to the night. Instantly he heard voices. Two men and a woman. His heart thudded in his chest and then settled into a normal rhythm as his training took over. They moved closer, and Wyatt went up a tree to cover him as he approached the trio.
Trap stayed as close to the tree line as possible, wanting the concealment so Cayenne couldn’t spot him. She looked very small next to the two Cajuns. She gestured toward her boat with a smile.
“Thanks. I can’t believe I ran right onto the bar. I would have gotten it off eventually but I probably would have been here most of the night.” Her voice was soft. Whisper soft. Compelling. Like silk. Her French accent was thick. Sexy.