Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(98)

“Flame’s real name is Iris,” Nonny said, “but no one calls her that. Whitney gave her the cancer – repeatedly. I know Trap and Wyatt are workin’ as hard as they can to come up with a cure, at least for the type of cancer Whitney gave Flame. He wanted it to keep comin’ back so she would have to go to him for treatment. Lily Miller is helpin’. She’s Whitney’s daughter, and she put Flame’s cancer in remission, but we’re all afraid it might come back again.”


Cayenne was surprised that Nonny knew so much about Whitney’s experiments. Although once she gave it thought, it stood to reason. Nonny had lived a long life and she was smart and observant. She had two grandsons who had joined the GhostWalker program and were married to other GhostWalkers. She hosted an entire team in her home. She had to see their differences and hear them talking.


“Whitney didn’t want to see any of us as human,” Pepper said. “He can distance himself from us so it’s easy to look at us as experiments and he can terminate us, or do anything else he wants without feeling guilty.”


Cayenne shivered, a cold chill creeping down her spine. Her hands ached. She rubbed them on her thighs, suddenly wishing Trap were there.


She felt Nonny’s sharp gaze and forced her hands into her lap, threading her fingers together to keep from trembling. She didn’t ever feel like this unless she was alone at night and couldn’t shut out the memories of being pinned to a table like an insect with several men in lab coats poking and stabbing with needles and knives. Bile rose, and she felt like she might choke.


Baby. What is it?


He was there. Trap. Pouring into her mind. Filling her with warmth. With him. With his strength, but it was much more than that. So much more. She wasn’t alone with her memories. He had them. He took them from her and made her whole. Made her human. She felt him holding her, his fingers sifting through her hair, looking for the hourglass, stroking it and caressing it. Accepting who she was. He knew the worst of her, and it didn’t matter.


I’m all right. Memories are too close.


Do you need me? I can come to you, take you home. Hold you, Cayenne. You say the word and I’m on my way.


She loved that. Loved that he would drop everything to get back to her. Her heart melted. Her stomach did a little flip. He’d already pushed the memories away, and she wanted to learn to cook. For him.


Baby. His voice, so soft, caressed her mind. She felt his love, that deep emotion neither really knew what to do with, filling her. I don’t need you to learn to cook.


He didn’t need it, but she did. It felt necessary to her. Cooking wouldn’t define her, but it would make her feel more human. She needed to feel she could take care of Trap by means other than sex.


I need this, Trap. I want this. I’m interested in it and I think I can get good at it. I’m fine now, just maybe needed to touch base with you. She hesitated a moment. Took a breath and gave it all to him. To know you’re there for me.


Always, Cayenne. Never doubt it.


She would never take that for granted, no matter how long they were together. She knew she wouldn’t. She sent him warmth and broke the contact, aware of Nonny’s steady gaze. The older woman leaned over and put her hand over Cayenne’s. Her hands were warm, just like the woman.


“You’re safe in this house, Cayenne,” she said gently.


Cayenne blinked rapidly to keep the burning out of her eyes. She wasn’t afraid, but she couldn’t explain that to this woman. She welcomed a fight, she was in her element going up against Whitney’s termination squads, but sitting in a house with two other women who were being sweet and kind and friendly, that was much more difficult.


“Thank you,” she murmured, because she had to say something.


“Let’s get started.” Nonny patted her hands and then stood up to lead the way to the kitchen. “I’ve got everything we need set out for the cookin’ lesson. The more tools you have, the easier it is.”


“Trap has all kinds of tools in his kitchen,” Cayenne admitted. “I just don’t know what they’re for. And I always make such a mess. After a while I get overwhelmed. I don’t understand how it looks so easy on the Internet but when I try, I mess everything up. It’s absolutely maddening.”


Pepper burst out laughing. “I think, when I first tried to learn, Nonny wanted to throw me out along with the burned dishes. I turned everything into charcoal. I couldn’t seem to remember when I had something in the oven or on the stove. I just would get distracted, and the next thing I knew, the fire alarms were going off and the house was filling with smoke.”


Cayenne found herself laughing. Laughing. With two women. No Trap to hold her up, she was actually having fun. She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t cook, and Pepper wasn’t ashamed. Even Nonny laughed with them.


“Malichai loves his food,” Nonny said. “You should have seen his face. I wanted one of those nanny cams set up so we could get his picture every time he found out Pepper was doing the cookin’ instead of me.”


Cayenne knew what a nanny camera was because she’d read about it on the Internet, but she couldn’t see Nonny trolling for information on the Internet. It was kind of funny to hear her say it. She glanced at Pepper, saw the look on her face and knew she wasn’t alone in what she was thinking. Pepper burst out laughing and Cayenne found herself following suit.