Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(69)

They always shot her full of a drug so she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe, but they kept her aware. Always aware. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Strangely, it was Trap’s hand over hers, his large palm completely enveloping hers, so that the pads of his fingers were against her skin, his thumb sliding along her jaw.


“Thanks for the tips, Cayenne,” Wyatt said. “I want updates the moment you take out the team,” he added to the others.


“We’ll need cleaners,” Trap reminded. “We can’t have bodies lying around in the swamp. Reporter hanging around.”


“Has he followed you?”


“That he has. He’s hanging back, but he’s pulled over. Draden’s going to incapacitate him right before we move out again.”


Cayenne swung her head around, looking out the back window. She’d missed that. She didn’t miss much, but being inside the vehicle surrounded by Trap’s team was difficult for her and she hadn’t been as alert as she should have been.


Trap swept the pad of his thumb along the vulnerable line of Cayenne’s jaw. He leaned close to her, giving her his warmth. His body’s shelter and protection. You okay now, baby?


He’d seen the door in her mind, that glimpse of hell. He had his own door, his own hell, but the thought of Cayenne’s small body pinned to a table, needles holding her down in the way an entomologist would pin an insect, filled his throat with bile. His stomach churned, knotted, a terrifying rage building that needed to be kept under the glacier of ice protecting the world around him from the havoc he could wreak.


Her gaze came back to his. Caught there. He held his breath. She was beautiful. Exotic. He couldn’t imagine that other men hadn’t seen her the way he did. She might be pint-sized, but she had lush curves perfectly proportioned so that along with the hourglass in her hair and embedded in the tight curls covering her mound, her figure was a perfect little hourglass.


He still had the taste of her on his tongue and he knew that would never go away. Exotic like she was. Ruby lips, full and inviting, it was difficult to keep from taking advantage right there, knowing she was hurting, especially with the taste of her filling his mouth. He wanted this over, wanted her safe. Facing her going into battle with them sickened him, but at least he could control this, be there to look out for her, instead of her trying to do it all herself.


I need to know, Cayenne. We can abort if you aren’t ready for this.


She shook her head. He felt her take a breath. Felt it in her throat, the pulse beating there. Her eyes were steady, all that green going multifaceted. He found his mouth curving into a smile in spite of everything. She was ready. His little warrior woman. Still, the knots in his stomach didn’t ease and the terror that gripped him below all of his icy resolve was far too close.


“Ezekiel’s in position,” Gino reported. He slapped the top of the SUV. “Let’s get it done.”


Mordichai glanced back at Trap. Trap nodded. “Take us close. Gino will give the word.”


Draden leapt from the fender and disappeared into the swamp to their right. She lost sight of him almost immediately. Mordichai set the vehicle in motion.


“We’re just leaving him?” Cayenne asked, astonished.


Trap shrugged. “He’ll catch up. He knows where we’ll be, and Draden can flat out run faster than we can travel in this thing through the swamp.” He smiled down at her. “He isn’t small and compact like you, but he has the heart and muscle and lung capacity to travel at extraordinary speeds for distances too. You wouldn’t think anyone with his muscle mass could run like he does, but although he’s built like a sprinter and has explosive speed in a sprint, he can cover distances just as fast.”


Trap sighed. “Whitney knew what he was doing by the time he created his fourth team. He made far less mistakes as he continued his experiments, learning from each of the teams and members with problems. He corrected most of the problems, but by enhancing them even more physically, he created a few new problems.”


Cayenne nodded. “Most of his ‘mistakes’ were terminated, but not all.”


“The men are more violent, which I’m certain Whitney was going for, but taking into account our already aggressive personalities, that was a major mistake. My team tends to keep to themselves and police the more dangerous members ourselves.”


“Draden runs because he has to run,” Cayenne guessed quietly, accurately. “It takes the edge off. I’ve seen him out in the swamp. I spin silk. I go into the swamp and create masterpieces. I can lose myself in the art and the work and it helps.”


He’d given her pieces of his team, and Cayenne gave him something back. None of them had to be embarrassed, because she understood. She might not be a member of their actual team, but she was a GhostWalker. She understood the differences that set them apart. He hoped she would come to identify with them.


Gino slapped his hand on the roof, and Mordichai instantly pulled the vehicle into the swamp beneath trees. Gino was gone instantly, melting into the thick foliage as if it had devoured him. Trap, the other men and Cayenne slipped out in silence.


I’m better out there. Cayenne indicated the denser woods.