Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(35)

Her throat closed at the memory. She couldn’t think about her mother, and she didn’t want to think about that last parting with Mack. They were together now for a short time, not under the best of circumstances, but she was determined to have a good day with them.

Mack slipped his arm around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort and she allowed herself to be led from the restaurant, sandwiched between the two men. Once on the street, he dropped his arm, stepping to the side of her.

“Keep moving, honey,” he ordered. “We studied the route from here and we can walk on the same side of the street all the way down. Stay between us. You know the drill.”

“You look like overzealous bodyguards,” she complained. It seemed natural to have one on either side of her, a leftover habit from childhood.

“We’ve been guarding your body for as long as I can remember,” Mack said with a teasing grin.

They joined the throng moving busily from block to block. Somehow the crowds seemed to part, the two men never once allowing anyone to so much as casually brush against her. She moved forward, aware that Jacob and Ethan were behind her. Her mind just did that—expanded and positioned the people around her.

The weather was cool and a bit misty, the fog gray and gloomy, but already clearing with a promise of a nice afternoon. She enjoyed being able to move through a bustling, crowded street free of pain, taking in the sights and buildings without the mind-numbing information that always crowded into her head. Mack and Kane gave her that freedom. Most of the time she spent locked away from the world. It had taken months to find Joe, a man she could work with without the psychic backlash that was so debilitating with most people. There were a few rare people that had natural shields and she’d worked hard, interviewing nearly three hundred applicants before she’d found him.

Something odd fluttered into her mind, pushed aside the warm happiness, leaving a sudden cold fear. She snuck a long, slow look around her, making certain to stay in step. She kept her same facial expression, her body language the same.

“What is it?” Mack’s voice was low.

He’d always been so tuned to her. It was strange. When he appeared to be paying the least attention, he caught everything, the smallest nuance. When he appeared to be wholly focused on her, he was completely aware of his surroundings.

“I don’t know,” she said, and there was no keeping the uneasiness from her voice.

We go to red. Mack sent out the order without hesitation. “Let’s abort, Jaimie.”

She flashed him a quick look. “I’m not on a mission. We’re buying a bed. I could be picking up a threat to anyone. Someone thinking about going postal. It’s faint and I can’t identify it yet. It happens all the time. You know that.”

“I don’t want to take chances with your life,” he said.

“I thought you said the two men Javier took down were going to kidnap me,” she pointed out. “That doesn’t necessarily read that my life was in danger.”

They were nearly to the furniture store. She kept moving forward, her gaze on the entrance, but her heart was beating fast now. Mack was protective, but to take them all to the highest risk when she couldn’t even sort out a bad feeling was not like him.

“The tranq wasn’t a tranq. It was truth serum. They were going to question you, Jaimie, and they’d brought a few instruments with them.”

Her mouth went dry. “Torture?” She looked up at him then. And then at Kane’s carefully averted face. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his eyelid flickered. “They were going to torture me?”

“Damn it, Jaimie.”

Mack shielded her as a group of unruly teenagers on skateboards rushed past. Javier did a series of showy tricks to the whistles and admiration of the kids, shot her a jaunty grin, and kept going, skating through the crowd, laughing at the curses and snarls as people moved out of the way. He scattered everyone behind them, answering the obscene gestures with one of his own.

“He could be crazy, you know,” Jaimie said.

“I have no doubt he is.”

“I want to buy the beds today, Mack. I don’t want to spend today terrified and locked up in a room alone.”

He didn’t point out she wouldn’t be alone. You see anything? He sent the call out to them all, his men, his family, moving in and out of the crowd. Gideon up on the rooftops, following their every move, his rifle an extension of him.

Not a thing, boss. The reports came back, all assuring him.

Do we abort, Top? Marc was at the door, ready to go inside.

They were almost on top of the shop. “Let’s just order the beds,” Jaimie said. “We’re already here and I don’t have a strong feeling one way or the other right now. Please, Mack.”

We’ll proceed, but be careful, Marc. You’re my eyes.

Mack recognized it was important to her to be as normal as possible. She probably hadn’t been out in public in weeks. Joe had done her shopping, or she’d had everything delivered. He knew her routines. She preferred working alone or in the dead of night in empty buildings where the psychic overload didn’t sicken her to the point of brain bleeds. He’d seen it happen before. “Let’s just get this done fast. You tell me the first sign of uneasiness. We’ll get you out, Jaimie. No one’s going to get their hands on you.”