Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(70)

Trap didn’t like it. There was saw grass, poisonous snakes, alligators, and on top of that, it could be marshy in places. He reached out before he could stop himself and wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. His fingers met his palm and his heart plunged. She never quite appeared as small as she was. On some level her size added to his need to protect her. Or maybe it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the emotion tightening his chest.


Cayenne halted and looked up at him. For a moment, Trap swore the entire world faded away. He only saw her face – that beautiful face framed with that waterfall of shiny black hair. He loved the way the red hourglass nestled deep almost unseen and then when she turned her head, the small movement set the red on fire. He drank her in, once more tasting her on his tongue.


Kiss me. If he was going to let her go into battle, he was going to do it knowing she knew she had a reason to come back to him. He’d been a bastard, the one he’d perfected over the years, and she was confused and hurt by his behavior. He couldn’t explain, not even to himself, because he didn’t dare look too close at what he feared most. But he needed her to kiss him. To give him that.


Her green eyes went darker, even more brilliant and vibrant than they already were. Her gaze shifted to the men disappearing into the brush and trees.


Doesn’t matter if they see, Cayenne. You’re my woman. You go into battle, you go anywhere away from me, I want you to kiss me.


He needed that from her. He needed to carry her taste with him, her scent, the essence of her so that he could keep her safe in his own way.


She didn’t protest. She looked confused and a little vulnerable. He liked the look a lot. He would take that look with him, hold it close, because his woman was adorable. Fucking beautiful. Lethal as hell, and that only made it all the more sweet. He held on to that thought. She was lethal. Dangerous. Capable.


Cayenne stepped close to him, one hand sliding up his chest, her head tipped up. He cupped her face. Pure beauty. All his. His thumb slid over her soft skin. He swore the pad of his thumb melted into her, she was that soft.


Trap didn’t waste any more time. He took her mouth. He did it long. Hard. Pouring himself into her. Taking her into him. He used his mouth to tell her the things he couldn’t say to her. When he lifted his head and rested his forehead against hers, both of them were breathing ragged.


Stay safe, baby, he whispered.


You too.


Cayenne waited for his fingers to loosen around her arm. She was trying desperately to get her wits about her again. Trap had just kissed her senseless. He was back to calling her “baby” in that soft, caressing voice that felt like a touch on her skin or a brand deep inside of her. He didn’t speak to her almost the entire time in town on their shopping expedition, and he’d clamped her to his side like she was some appendage he had to guard. Now, he kissed her good-bye and allowed her to go up against a team of Whitney’s supersoldiers. He was the most confusing person she’d ever met.


She hurried into the brush, making herself as small as possible. Her bones weren’t like other bones. She knew that. When she was lying pinned to the table, she heard them discussing how her bones were soft and she could flatten herself and twist into impossible positions in order to get into tiny places. Her palms ached and she curled her fingers over the tiny scars in her flesh. In her bones. Where they’d pinned her to the table.


When Whitney had the labyrinths built that she was taken to in order to fight her way out, in the later mazes he had included smaller and smaller spaces for her to fold herself into. She understood they had cameras and filmed her moving through the maze, but the most she could do was destroy the soldiers when she found them. Still, she knew they watched as the supersoldiers tried to kill her and she was forced to defend her own life.


She moved with confidence through the heavy brush. Few branches or leaves touched her skin. When she needed, she drew them away from her with silk so there would be no whisper of movement. The soldiers were enhanced and, aside from their armor that often distorted their bodies, they had similar, and oftentimes, mirrored gifts that GhostWalkers had. She couldn’t take a chance that one or more had enhanced hearing.


Cayenne didn’t try to find the team of GhostWalkers deploying in the swamp. She knew how to fight the soldiers, and if she could cut down the odds before Trap was in place, she’d be happy. She didn’t like that he was so big. He moved in silence, but he presented a large target. She couldn’t think about that because it messed her head up. She didn’t want to envision him in danger at all. If she did, her heart pounded, her mouth went dry and chaos reigned in her mind.


She began to lay threads of silk through the trees and bushes, thin, so thin they were nearly invisible. The sun had set and without that brightness, her silk blended into the surroundings. Little feelers, ones that would warn her when a soldier was on the move. She kept the strands low, so if broken, they wouldn’t be felt.


She moved up into the trees. It was a favorite way for some of the soldiers to travel, and definitely their marksmen would go high in order to try to kill Trap and his team. She would be their first target. They were looking for her to carry out the termination order. If they managed to get any member of Trap’s team, that would be a bonus. Whitney probably had cameras on all his soldiers to record the fight. She hoped she could prevent him from seeing a thing.