Power Game

by Christine Feehan

  Adam started to sit up, but Rubin's hand on his chest prevented him. "If you can only do one of us now, and you really think it's going to work, save Gerald."

  "No." Gerald leapt up out of his seat. "That's not happening."

  "I'm going to save you both," Rubin said. "So don't be an ass. Just sit down and don't bother me." Already his hands were moving in patterns, as if he couldn't stop the compulsion. He gave the order distractedly, his focus on the body lying beneath his hands.

  "Talk to me, Rubin," Ezekiel said.

  "Inside the body I see and feel patterns. It's all about those patterns to me. I practically see in patterns even when I'm not being a medic. Something can invade and disturb those configurations in a person's body. Psychic energy can do that. Like you, Zeke, you have that dark energy that's strong and eclipses just about all the patterns in your body when it swallows you whole. Bellisia has light patterns, a rhythm that ebbs and flows in her body. Everyone with psychic energy has very distinct threads or spools."

  "Is Adam's psychic ability strong enough to read his patterns? He tested very low," Ezekiel said. "That was the only reason why he wasn't brought into the program. Everything else was there."

  "Whitney said he tested low? That's bullshit. He's got talent and it's strong. Each pattern I see is unique to the individual and their particular set of gifts. Most people with psychic talent have more than one, some much stronger than others. Pepper has a lighter weave in her brain, so when energy created from violence swarms toward her, she's unprotected and absorbs far more. The violent energy actually punches holes through her patterns, giving her brain bleeds. She could die if she was surrounded by violence for too long. Her brain would just bleed out. Your weave, Ezekiel, is much more dense. Adam's patterns are very dense as well."

  All the while Rubin explained, he kept moving his hands over Adam's body, weaving his own patterns, as if he was conducting a symphony. His eyes remained closed and sweat beaded on his forehead. His voice was even and low.

  "If this is a virus, what does it matter if my patterns are dense?" Adam demanded. "It's a virus, like the flu, right?"

  "Whitney would never give you anything that mundane. This particular virus attacks your brain and the psychic threads you have. We're all using parts of the brain never used before. Whitney activated neuropathways that aren't static, they grow and branch out. He didn't believe Adam had psychic ability, or rather, thought that it was very small, so he really revved up the enhancement to the brain. I'm certain his thinking was that Adam would have a mediocre talent, but instead, he has an extremely strong one. That's why this virus he injected into you hasn't killed you already."

  "How bad is it, Rubin?" Ezekiel asked.

  "The forms in Adam's body are broken and shredded in places, eaten away by tiny little holes all through the patterns, but the worst damage started in his brain."

  "Can you repair him?" Gerald asked.

  "I am repairing him. It takes time to gather those threads back together. I use a healing energy for that, but when I attack the virus, I have to use a different kind." He frowned again, and moved closer to Adam's head. "You must have a whale of a headache. How did you manage to work on Ezekiel's house? I can't imagine the pain you were in."

  "Our last gift to Bella," Gerald explained. "We thought it would make her happy when she found out we'd helped build her home."

  "The brain looks as if it took a terrible beating, the holes in the patterns much worse. I have to use a magnetic type of energy to gather the virus and then destroy it with a laser energy. I can't talk while I do that, and would appreciate everyone else staying quiet."

  Sweat poured off of him. Gino wiped his face with a towel and stepped away. The temperature in the room had gone up several degrees, and the heat source was clearly Rubin. His skin nearly glowed, definitely giving off a copperish cast. Ezekiel swung Bellisia around so she faced the wall, shielding her with his body as the heat became a furnace blast.

  Rubin worked for a good hour, his body beginning to tremble, his hands never stopping as he fought to burn out the virus. His patient appeared to lose consciousness and lay very still. When Rubin did eventually step back, he staggered and would have gone down had Gino not caught him.

  "I need to lie down." Both hands went to his head, pressing as if in terrible pain. His face had deep lines cut into it. "Somewhere dark. Give me a couple of hours, and then I'll start on Gerald."

  Ezekiel didn't see how Rubin could do that, not when he was in such bad shape, but he wasn't going to argue. He nodded to Gino. Holding Rubin upright between Mordichai and him, Gino took the psychic surgeon out.

  19

  Ezekiel woke with his body on fire. Sensations like molten lava ran from his toes to his groin. Fingers of desire played on his thighs. He opened his eyes to the dark of the room. Bellisia's hair swept over his thighs, soft silk brushing his skin like the tips of her fingers. She lay with her head in his lap, her hands moving over his body, those microfibers stroking his sac into twin cauldrons of boiling hot seed.

  Her mouth slid up and down his shaft. Tight. Hot. Wet. Her tongue danced. Caressed. Stroked. Blood thundered in his ears. Her mouth was so wet and soft, slipping up his shaft and back down until he thought he might lose his mind. Her tongue was a miracle, finding the underside of his crown, teasing at it and then licking along the thick vein.

  Her mouth closed over him again, wet and tight, the suction beyond his ability to imagine. He looked down, his fingers finding her hair, bunching it into his fist and lifting it away from her face so he could watch her. His woman. Perfection. He loved that moment in time with her mouth and lips around him, her eyes on his face, love there. Lust there. Pleasure. She loved what she was doing, waking him up, giving him that look she had on her face. Adoring. She might never give him the words, but right then, he knew she didn't have to, because she felt it. She was everything he could ever want.

  He indulged himself for a long while, getting off on the incredible sensations, finding even more pleasure in the slow deliberate thrust of his hips while he held her head still just to see the trust in her eyes. He was getting close, too close. He didn't want to lose control and let go in her mouth, although he could tell she wouldn't pull away if he did. The temptation was strong, but he wanted more for her.

  "Come here, sweetheart," he urged, transferring his hold from her hair to beneath her shoulders. "I don't want this over yet and it will be if you keep it up." He could barely get the words out, his breath already rushing out of his lungs. His belly was on fire right along with his balls. Somehow he found the strength to pull her up over his body. "Kneel up on the bed for me. On your hands and knees."

  She did so immediately, looking back at him over her shoulder. She looked sexy as hell, her eyes slumberous, her mouth swollen from sucking his cock. He knelt behind her, stroking his hands over her body, feeling the silk of her, the softness, all the while breathing deep to get himself back under control.

  One hand circled his inflamed cock, fisting it hard, using a slow slide while he cupped her mound to make certain she was as wet as he needed her to be. The evidence that she enjoyed her mouth around him nearly as much as he liked it was thankfully right there, between her legs. He hadn't been certain he could hold back long enough to get her ready. She was small and tight and he was large for her.

  He pressed the crown of his cock into her burning entrance, his breath hissing out of his throat. It felt so good, the way her muscles clamped down on him, strangling him. There was always resistance with her body, no matter how ready she was. She made a little sound, a moan of need he felt vibrating all the way up his shaft. He caught her hips in his hands and drove home, pulling her body into his as he powered through her tight muscles.

  Scorching heat surrounded him. So tight. Wet silk gripping like a fist. He lost himself in her, driving deep over and over until he thought he might go insane with pleasure. He never wanted it to end. Twice her body rippled strongly around his, adding to the
friction, but he didn't stop, didn't let her come down. He drove her up over and over until her cries were frantic, a musical melody that added to his lust.

  He liked that she was small and that he was a big man. He liked that his hands could almost span her waist. He liked the feeling of power he got when he was towering over her, or, like right now, into her. He loved it when her lips were wrapped around his cock and she was looking up at him.

  He held her pinned right where he wanted her as his body surged in and out of hers, locking them together. He took one hand and pressed it on her back right between her shoulder blades, forcing her head down, until she dropped the way he wanted her, ass in the air for him, her breasts on the sheets. Hopefully her nipples rubbed along the sheets, adding to her pleasure.

  He especially liked driving her out of her mind. He loved when she was dazed and hungry for him. The moans she made. The little cries. The way his name came out in pleading gasps. Her voice, so desperate for him to give her release.

  The fire was close to consuming him. So close. He wanted her with him. "Again, baby, give it up for me again."

  "It's too much."

  "It's never too much," he declared ruthlessly.

  Ezekiel reached down and found her clit. She exploded, her body clamping down, milking, wringing every scalding drop out of him. There was a kind of ecstasy in having her body draw his seed out, so that jet after jet splashed her sensitive walls and she spasmed more, again and again, drawing out the tidal wave consuming her.

  He collapsed over her, his lungs burning with the need for air, his mind soaring somewhere and he couldn't quite rein it in. He could feel the beauty of those flames rolling over and into his skin, burning through his belly and down his thighs, centering in his groin, until all there was for him was this woman and her body. She did that to him. She wiped out every ugly thing in his life and gave him paradise.

  When he could breathe again, when he could force his body to move, he inched back, enabling him to press kisses down the length of her spine. "You're so beautiful to me, Bellisia." The words were muffled against the cheek of her butt. He loved the way she was so silky soft, but firm. "I've somehow gotten to a place where I don't just want you, I absolutely need you in my life. You make everything so much better."

  She made a muffled sound, and turned her head so she could look at him, her face partially buried in her sheets.

  He bit her cheek and then laved the sting with his tongue. "You make me feel alive and . . ." He trailed off, feeling raw and broken open. "All those long years, baby, you're worth every single minute of those long years."

  She smiled and brought one hand toward her face. He saw she wore his bracelet and she brushed a kiss over the stones. His heart stuttered. She was killing him. Killing him. That adoration he didn't deserve and never would was there in her eyes. He vowed to himself it would always stay there. He was never going to let her down. He didn't say it out loud to her, because there was only so much idiotic poetic truth a man could spew to his woman without looking like a complete and utter wuss. She had him wrapped around her little finger, but he wasn't about to tell her so.

  "You're growling," she murmured sleepily, her smile widening.

  "I feel like growling." He hadn't pulled out of her. He couldn't. He felt cocooned, wrapped in her love, surrounded by her wet, tight, scorching-hot body. He glided. Slowly. Easy. Still semihard. Still stretching her.

  "I need to lie down, honey," she said.

  He wrapped his arms around her and took her to the bed, so that she was on her belly, and only he supported her hips. "Go back to sleep."

  He heard her muffled laughter. "Like this?"

  "Fine. You're such a high-maintenance woman." He poured pretend concern into his voice.

  He loved when she laughed. Not just because of the sound, which was beautiful, but because when he was connected like this, the vibrations played along his shaft like fingers. Her fingers. He pulled out, rolled so he was on his back and draped her over top of him, his cock once more sliding deep. She sprawled across him, legs spread wide to accommodate his hips, her head pillowed on his chest, her fingertips lazily tracing the muscles in his arms.

  "I'm in love with you, Bellisia." It was the absolute stark truth. "Absolutely in love with you."

  She lifted her head, chin to his chest, looking at him with her bright, sea blue eyes. "That's a good thing, Ezekiel, because I didn't even know there was such a thing as love until you. You taught me what it is. I don't want to ever do without you either."

  "So you'll stay here and make your home with me."

  "I said I would."

  "I want to marry you, Bellisia. Have children. Plural."

  She was silent for so long he was afraid he'd pushed her too hard, but she didn't look away from him. Eventually she sighed. "You sort of intimated the children thing before, Ezekiel, and I've thought a lot about it. I have DNA that is messed up. I don't have any idea what I'd pass on to our children."

  "You aren't the only one he genetically enhanced, baby," he reminded her softly.

  She turned her head and lay back on him. Her fingertips drew lazy circles over his chest muscles. He felt the warmth of her breath over his skin. "I accepted your bracelet, honey. They'll have to take it off my cold dead body. So if we figure out the children, that we're not going to screw them up, then yes to them. I already said yes to you. I'm tired again. I think I'll sleep for a while. Wake me up when it's time to eat."

  He woke her up long before it was time to eat. Not once, but twice.

  Breakfast was a feast. Cayenne had helped Nonny prepare it, and they'd made enough for an army. Gerald and Adam were sitting at the table for the first time. Ezekiel could see they were a little uncomfortable, but he remembered he'd been that way the first time he ever sat at Nonny's table. He'd never felt more awkward in his life. It wasn't as if his brothers and he had sat at very many tables with an older woman before, one they admired. They didn't exactly have the best of manners either. He also knew Nonny would put the two newcomers to ease fast.

  "Where's Pepper?" he asked. She was absent, but all three of her girls were there. She rarely left their care to the others. She always had help, but she was adamant about doing it herself. He'd never even known her to sleep in when Wyatt was there--and he knew Wyatt wore her out.

  "Mommy's puking again," Ginger announced. "She doesn't want breakfast."

  Ezekiel frowned. "How often has she been sick? Why wasn't I told? She can get very ill when she's been around violence, and she shouldn't let that go." He looked at his brother. It can be life-threatening. I can't imagine having to tell Wyatt we lost his wife because we weren't paying attention. He didn't want to lose Pepper. She was a gentle soul, sweet and kind to everyone. She was a force to be reckoned with if anyone threatened her children, but it wasn't in her nature to be a fierce warrior.

  Nonny cleared her throat. "I don't believe it has anything to do with the fight, Ezekiel."

  "Still, I'd better take a look at her."

  "I think she'll be perfectly fine in a few months," Nonny insisted, her tone telling him to leave it alone.

  A few months? He sat back in his chair. Pepper was pregnant with Wyatt's baby. "I'll take a look at her a little later, just to make certain everything is all right and she has the necessary vitamins."

  "Ezekiel, I would never let her go without," Nonny said quietly.

  The two looked at each other. He was a doctor, and he needed to make certain Pepper and the growing child had the best start possible. He knew Grace Fontenot was a traiteur and men and women around the swamps and bayous sought her out for health care. This was Wyatt's wife. A GhostWalker. Part of his family. He wouldn't back down.

  Nonny sighed softly and inclined her head, the queen giving her permission.

  "I would want Wyatt to look after Bellisia for me if it was the other way around," he said, by way of apology.

  Without thinking, he laid his hand over Bellisia's stomach. What would it be lik
e to know his child was growing inside of her? He hadn't used protection, and he knew she wasn't on anything. The thought of feeling his baby kicking inside of her brought a warmth to him he hadn't ever experienced.

  "Don't," she said softly.

  "Don't what?" He raised an eyebrow trying to look innocent.

  "You know what."

  Warmth blossomed in him. He never thought he'd have this. Not once in all those years when he couldn't sleep did he think he would have a woman, let alone one who made him so happy just by frowning and playfully censuring him.

  "Come here, woman," he ordered, his arm along the back of her chair. He needed to kiss her, needed to feel her mouth under his.

  Bellisia leaned toward him, never thinking to deny him, not even there in front of all his men. She'd catch hell for it too, they'd never let her hear the end of it, but she still leaned close and lifted her face toward his. The window over the sink shattered and behind her, something hit the wall hard. The reverberation of a gunshot ravaged the peace of the morning, the bullet passing where her head had been only a half second earlier.

  Ezekiel all but slammed Bellisia under him, rolled and came up on the other side, near the door. Gino took Ginger and Thym to the floor. Mordichai swept Nonny down and was over her in a heartbeat. Draden had Cannelle protected. Rubin and Diego hit the floor along with Gerald and Adam.

  Ezekiel ran his hands over Bellisia, intellectually knowing she wasn't hit, but his heart and body couldn't stop the reflexive action. His heart was in his throat. He'd come that close to losing her that fast. Wyatt was getting bulletproof windows installed just as Trap had in his house. Ezekiel would damn well get them as well.

  Stay with the children, Nonny and Pepper, Diego. Draden, you're on Joe and Bellisia. I'm going hunting. Gino?

  With you.

  Mordichai and Rubin, get to the roof. Rubin, take the back of the house in case we've got company sneaking up on us while these fuckers are holding our attention.

  He gave his next order aloud, putting every bit of command he had into his voice, the years with his brothers, the years of taking charge of other men in combat situations. "You stay put, Bellisia. I fucking mean it. You protect the others if you have to. Joe's still out of commission and you back up Rubin and Diego. Under no circumstances can you go outside where I'm hunting." Even as he gave the commands, he was already out the back door and running along a covered path. One of the first security measures Wyatt had ever put in his home was the cover around every doorway.