Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(13)



“We’re getting pictures and fingerprints. No IDs on them, but they’re military. They came prepared to take her,” Mack assured. “They have an injector that looks like a tranq, but we won’t know until we test it. Ties. Firepower. They aren’t innocent, so don’t sweat it.”

Easier said than done. Javier shook his head and tried a few deep breaths to settle his churning gut. His every instinct had told him they were the enemy, but military? The same side? “What the hell are we into here, boss?”

Jaimie shook her head. She couldn’t hear what Javier was saying, but she could read lips. They were all questioning what they were involved in. She’d made a mistake thinking the government would let her go. Once a GhostWalker, always a GhostWalker. She thought working as an analyst would satisfy them, but obviously she’d been wrong. Whatever was happening, the power orchestrating behind the scenes was determined to draw her back in, and planned on using Mack and her family to do it.

A spurt of resentment had her kicking out at the wall in defiance. She’d told Mack. How like him to just go his own way with all of them following him, no one bothering to think about the how and why of anything. Now they were all in this mess. She’d done her best to convince them, but would any of them listen to her? She had a brain. A big brain. High school at eight. Graduating with honors from the University with a doctorate by the time she was twenty. Come on. Of course they wouldn’t listen to her. Mack was so much smarter.

She kicked the wall a second time, wishing it was his shin. Mack. He was out there in the night, staring up at her window, gun slung around his neck, putting his men—no, not just his men; his family—in deadly peril, and loving every moment of it. Worse, even with all of her intellectual reasoning, she was just as bad as the others, following him anywhere he led, even when she knew it was down the wrong path.

Who could resist Mack? Not her. Certainly not her. And he was back. He’d looked at her so differently. Not even in the year they’d been lovers had he ever looked at her with that particular expression he’d worn tonight. Not even when passion had burned hot and out of control between them. Not ever.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. Did she never learn? He was poison to her. She forced herself to look at Javier, to concentrate on his lips.

“He’s on the move,” Mack’s voice intoned in Javier’s ear. “Don’t let him get away.”

“He’s moving across the rooftops with incredible speed, boss,” Gideon said. “I’m after him, but I don’t have a prayer of catching this guy. He’s souped-up with something.”

“Who’s on the move, boss?” Javier stirred, tried to peer out the window at the rooftop across from him. Something was moving fast, no more than a shadow. No more than a ghost. “The son of a bitch watching Jaimie?”

Jaimie’s heart jumped. She always knew when she was being watched. Her internal alarm system never failed. How could it be possible that someone had set up to watch her and she hadn’t known? Maybe Mack was wrong. Doubt ate at her. Mack was many things, but he was seldom wrong about this kind of thing.

“He’s gone, boss,” Gideon reported.

“We’ve got the bodies and we’ll take them in. Gideon, you and Kane find out who’s watching Jaimie. Go through that room with a fine-tooth comb. Get me something. Brian, you and Jacob follow the two creeping around Jaimie’s warehouse and report back to me. I don’t need to tell you that I don’t want you seen and I don’t want them dead.” Mack paused. “Javier, get on Jaimie’s computer and find everyone places to rent around Jaimie’s warehouse. Scatter them so that we have every angle covered. Houseboats, whatever. If you have to arrange to get someone thrown out so we get what we need, do it. But do it tonight. Kane and I will be staying with Jaimie.”

Javier glanced at Jaimie, who scowled back at him. “Does Jaimie know she’s going to be having permanent guests, boss?”

Jaimie’s eyes widened as she heard what he was saying. Javier turned away, feeling slightly guilty; after all, Jaimie was a sister of the heart. “I don’t think she’s going to like that much.”

“Well, that’s just too damn bad, now, isn’t it, Javier,” Mack said.





CHAPTER 3


Mack and Kane and all the boys hadn’t been near her in two peaceful years. Now, within two hours of their arrival, it had started all over again. Blood and death. Jaimie stared out the window, her gaze fixed on the ever-changing motion of the dark water below. Javier had spent the night and the next day with her. Now he was gone and Mack and Kane were on their way up, finished with all their paperwork and cleanup and coming back to—what? She couldn’t go back to that life with them. She wouldn’t go back.

Facing Mack again was going to be tough, but she had to find a way to be nonchalant around him. He was family, just like all of them were. She had to keep it that way and not let the secret, hidden excitement at the thought of him overtake her brain. Hormones could be controlled. She didn’t have to give in to her feelings. She’d out-think him and stay out of trouble.

She gave a little sniff of self-contempt. Even she wasn’t buying what her mind was selling. The freight elevator door opened on the far side of the room and she turned to see Kane and Mack emerge. They both looked exhausted, lines etched in their faces. They’d been up at least forty-eight hours before they’d even made it to San Francisco and they’d pulled another all-nighter cleaning up the mess Javier had made and then making their reports.

Christine Feehan's Books