Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(33)




Trap didn’t like it, but he wasn’t the one with the empty stomach. She was up near the edge of the roof and she rested her forehead against the eave. Trap. He really detested that she’d robbed others. His disapproval made her feel ashamed and dirty. She didn’t like the feeling at all.


Taking a breath, she eased her body up and peeked over the roof. Scanning. She didn’t see anyone close, but she felt him. She shouldn’t do this. It went against her training – against all logic and common sense. She was allowing something she didn’t even understand to control her, but she knew it didn’t matter. She was compelled to see for herself that Trap was alive and well – that she hadn’t harmed him by injecting too much venom. Sliding carefully onto the roof, she flattened her body, maneuvering beyond what anyone would think possible. She knew it would be impossible to spot her when she wasn’t moving. She would look part of the roof structure.


Cayenne let the cool breeze drift over her for some time, reaching out into the night for scents and movement, but none came. Whoever was on the roof – and she was certain someone was up there with her, she just couldn’t locate him – was every bit as adept at hiding himself as she could be.


If she was going to do this, she had to take the chance of getting caught. The chimney was only a few feet from her. Cayenne began to inch forward. Slow. Barely moving. Making certain not even a whisper of her clothes sliding over the roof gave her away. For the first time, entering the Fontenot compound, her heart was in her throat.


She made it to the small chimney and folded herself inside. Once crammed into the pipe, she felt relief. Someone had definitely been on the roof with her. His energy was low, but very, very dangerous. There was a part of her that suspected he might have known she was there, but let her through anyway. The familiar elation was gone, leaving her anxious and afraid of Trap’s rejection. She’d sought that, even demanded it, although she knew it was really the last thing she wanted from him.


Cayenne resisted the urge to slip into Nonny’s room. She needed to – for some reason the room comforted her, and more than any other time, she needed comfort. She didn’t know anyone who could give her comfort – hold her in their arms like she’d seen Wyatt do Pepper. No one cared that much. She needed that more than she needed to stand in a beautiful room pretending.


In Nonny’s room she could and often did pretend she had a family and a grandmother who loved her. Someone. Anyone. She swallowed hard and made her way through the house. She might have had the chance with Trap if she hadn’t been so afraid and sent him away. Worse, if she hadn’t embarrassed him in front of his friends and maybe actually harmed him.


CHAPTER 6


Cayenne made her way down the stairs like a human being, not a spider. She shouldn’t do that either, but she often did when she was in the house, because it made her feel as if she could belong. Walking like a human rather than clinging to the ceiling and making her way was dangerous because she was so much easier to spot, but tonight – tonight she needed to be real. A human being. Someone else. Someone not her.


Deep inside her, something was building – something big and terrible. With every step she took she felt the heavy weight of that dark force gathering. Her breath hitched and her chest felt tight. Tremors racked her body, so much so that she knew if one of the GhostWalkers found her, she wouldn’t be able to fight her way free. She kept walking toward him – toward Trap – because she had to.


She knew the way to his room, but even if she hadn’t, she would have been able to find him. The pull was so strong in her that she always knew where he was. The thought that she could have caused him real harm stabbed at her heart relentlessly. Her stomach knotted. She pressed a hand over her churning belly, over those tight knots, took a deep breath and put her hand on his door.


Trap. She whispered his name. Her nemesis. The man who made her want to be human. The man she wanted more than anything in the world but knew she couldn’t have. She didn’t dare have him. She wouldn’t know what to do with him, and when she was overwhelmed and scared, she could easily make a mistake.


She half turned away, her breathing ragged, coming in little hitches. She didn’t know what that was either, only that it was uncomfortable and totally unfamiliar. She needed someone. Needed them. Not just someone, she needed the man she’d injected with toxins. The man she’d told to go away and stay away.


She hesitated and pressed her forehead against the door and slid her hand high, to the height his head would be, as if she could touch him. She pushed her body against the door as if his arms were around her and she could feel his body against hers. She tried to pretend that he was holding her, but there was no way to make that real for herself. No way.


She had rarely been out of her cell. She had despised her captors, and yet, if they were still alive, still around, she would have gone back because life outside that cell was terrifying. She had not wanted to believe them, that she wasn’t fit to walk around with everyone else, especially when she saw inside of them, saw how ugly and cruel they were, but they were right.


She was different. Not human. Not salvageable. She had all the knowledge in the world inside her mind, but not a single bit of practical experience. She didn’t know how to do anything but kill. The only person who had shown her any kindness, she’d struck out at and harmed.

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