Ryland drew Lily into his arms, pressing her back into the multitude of potted plants, an ardent lover, his back to their right, his entire body protecting her from prying eyes. He murmured softly, deliberately, amusement in his voice as if they were sharing some secret, intimate joke. All the while she felt the flow of energy growing around them until it was nearly crackling in the air. Together the two men urged the soldier dressed in the dark suit to look the other way, to catch a glimpse of a red gown and hurry after the woman as she rounded a corner.
Ryland immediately rushed Lily toward the stairs, a man so eager to be alone with his lover he was impatient to get her out of the crowd. There was a brief moment when they had no choice but to walk in the lighted hallway. He could only hope the cape was long enough to cover the red hem of her gown as Lily walked quickly.
“Take off your shoes,” he ordered as they made the comparative safety of the stairwell. “I don’t want your high heels to slow us down if we have to run.”
Lily held his arm with one hand and removed the thin-strapped shoes with the other. “I happen to like these shoes,” she said. “I don’t want them lost.”
“Just like a woman, worried about shoes at a time like this.” Ryland rolled his eyes as he tugged on her hand. “They’re going to be waiting for us on one of the floors below, Lily. They shouldn’t be swarming the way they are.”
They raced down two flights of stairs. “Why would they unless they knew you were here? Could they have spotted you or one of the men inside earlier?”
“I doubt it.” They went down two more flights.
Lily was definitely limping now. She tried to let go of his hand, knowing she was holding him back. She knew from long experience, her muscles would begin to spasm and eventually she would be dragging her leg. “You’re the one in danger, Ryland, not me. What are they going to do here to me in front of all these people? I’ll go back to the ballroom and join a group. Have Arly send John in for me.”
“Keep moving, Lily,” Ryland snapped, his expression grim. “This isn’t a democracy.” His fingers shackled her wrist, pulled her down another flight of stairs.
“My leg, Ryland,” she began.
Ryland’s palm covered her mouth. She felt his sudden stillness. His arms were around her, holding her to him, moving her backward on the third-floor landing above the stairs. He peered down, his mouth pressed against her ear. “The stair light is gone below us. Someone’s there waiting. I can feel them.”
She couldn’t feel anything but the terrible pain as her calf muscles knotted and her lungs burned from running down several flights of stairs. Her heart was beginning to pound. What could have tipped Colonel Higgens off to Ryland’s presence in the building? Or was he really looking for her because she had spent too much time with General Ranier? Maybe the general was so angry he inadvertently hinted at the truth to Higgens. The thought frightened her. Ranier would be in danger, maybe even Delia, his wife. If Higgens and Thornton had been willing to chance committing murder already four times, they weren’t going to stop because their next victim was a general.
Ryland’s lips moved, his voice so low she hardly caught the words. “It’s Cowlings. His telepathic ability is almost nil, but he feels the surges of energy. We’re going down the stairs. Stay close to the wall and keep the cloak around you.”
She nodded to indicate she understood. Ryland’s arms slipped off of her, taking most of the warmth with them. Lily shrank back against the railing as he began the descent into the dark region below them. He made no sound as he stalked down the stairs like the predator he was. Lily touched his back for reassurance. She could feel the ripple of his muscles as he crept down the stairs. She tried to emulate his silence, placing her feet carefully and doing her best to control her breathing. Even so it sounded overloud in the quiet of the stairwell.
A door opened briefly far above them and loud laughter spilled out. The smell of cigarette smoke drifted down. Ryland froze, remained unmoving, holding up his hand to indicate to her to freeze in place. They stayed motionless until the door slammed shut on the voices, leaving behind silence. His hand touched hers. Their fingers tangled and he squeezed hers in reassurance.
Lily tried to hold her breath during the descent to the second-story landing. The closer they got to the second floor, the harder her heart pounded, until she was afraid it would burst out of her chest. The surge of adrenaline caused her body to tremble violently. Ryland was as steady as a rock. She couldn’t detect that his heart rate had risen at all and her thumb was rubbing nervously back and forth over the pulse in his wrist. Lily blinked. Ryland’s wrist slid away from her.
Suddenly he was gone and she was alone, flattened against the wall on the fourth stair from the landing, trembling alone in the dark. There was no sound at all. Lily sought inside herself for a calming moment, forcing air through her lungs until she had slowed her heart and brought her breathing back under control. She waited, not giving in to the impulse to reach telepathically for Ryland. If Cowlings were anywhere close, he would feel the sudden surge of energy.
The urge to move was sudden and immediate. A whispering sounded in her head but she couldn’t quite make out the words. Lily stayed still, hugging the wall, not trusting a connection that wasn’t strong and intimate as the one she always had with Ryland. Nicolas was extremely strong and she knew him. She felt he would have managed to send her a clear message. She waited, wrapped in her velvet cloak. Tense. Afraid. Holding her ground.
It seemed an hour. Time slowed down. Nearly stopped. Lily hated the silence, when it was usually her refuge. There was a whisper of movement, felt more than heard. Cloth brushing against the wall very close to her. Lily tried to make herself smaller, held her breath, waiting. She stared directly toward the sound. Little by little she began to make out the stealthy shadow looming large, stalking her there in the dark.
Everything in her screamed to break and run, but she forced a stillness. Trusting him. Trusting Ryland. She could feel him close to her, Breathing with her. For her. Giving her the strength to wait for the threat to reach out to her.
Something heavy dropped from above, landed on the stalker’s back, hooking the neck, jerking hard, dropping both bodies to the landing. She could hear the sickening thud of fist against flesh.
Go now! The voice was sharp and clear in Lily’s head. Nicolas, not Ryland.
She hesitated one heartbeat then did as ordered, slipping past the two struggling, viciously fighting men. She started down the flight of stairs, glanced back. The two men were on their feet now. One shadow broke and ran toward her, leaping, taking flight, determined to get his hands on her.
Lily tried to run, pushing off with her bad leg. Her muscles seized. The leg gave out, and she found herself sitting down hard in the middle of the staircase. It was the only thing that saved her. The man would have hit her squarely in the back had she not fallen. As it was, he kicked her shoulder as his body overshot hers. Lily nearly tumbled down the stairs with the force of the impact. He landed several steps below her, spun around, and scrambled toward her. She could see his eyes, the sheen of triumph. His hands reached out, grabbed her ankle, and yanked.
Lily slid down the stairs even as Ryland loomed up, a dark solid menace. His kick caught Cowlings squarely in the head. The man fell backward away from Lily.
Ryland caught her, dragged her to him, his hands running over her body to check that she was uninjured. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
Her hand slid down his chest, came away sticky and wet. “Ryland?”
“It’s nothing, Lily, he had a knife in his hand. It’s a graze, nothing more. Can you walk?”
“I don’t know. It’s like that, sometimes I work fine and then it just gives out completely when the muscle’s too stressed.” She wanted to pull his shirt up to examine his chest, but he was dragging her up, his arm around her waist, urging her down the last flight of stairs to the entrance to the first floor.
Ryland pushed open the door, gl
anced around, and hurried her toward a side door. Behind you. The warning came as Cowlings rushed out of the stairwell. Ryland ducked into an alcove, pushing Lily away from him while swinging around to face Cowlings. The two men circled warily.
“I’m going to kill you, Miller,” Cowlings snarled, wiping blood from his shattered nose. His face appeared much like pulp. Even his eyes were swelling.
“You’re welcome to try,” Ryland answered softly.
Lily concentrated on the picture on the wall to Ryland’s right and it began to tremble violently. It suddenly jumped free and flew toward Russell Cowlings. It rocked and spun, dipping low, picking up speed as it rose sharply. Cowlings ducked and dodged, desperately trying to avoid the attacking picture.
Ryland lunged at him, feigning an attack, distracting him. Cowlings stumbled backward, turning his attention to his human opponent. The picture slammed down hard over the top of his head, breaking through canvas, glass, and frame and settling around his neck. Cowlings looked more stunned than hurt.
“Go, Lily.” Ryland had no choice. If he left their enemy alive, Lily would be in danger, as would all of his men. He couldn’t bear for her to be a witness.
She obeyed, limping heavily as she went. Her leg was throbbing so badly it was making her feel sick. Nearly useless, she was dragging herself toward the exit. The heavy drape along the alcove wall suddenly leapt to life; it reached out and whipped around her, wrapping her up in coils of material. The drape wound so tightly it threatened to cut off her air. Lily was unable to see anything or to fight the heavy folds. Her arms were locked to her sides.
Her leg gave out and she fell, trapped in the ever-tightening coils, suddenly in danger of suffocation. Ryland! Panic-stricken, she gasped his name in her mind.
She knew he was in a fight for his life. For all their lives. She was even ashamed that she had pleaded for his help, risking distracting him, but she couldn’t help herself. Lily had never felt so panicked in all her life.
Be calm. That was Nicolas. It was amazing that she could hear him when she was screaming so loudly in her head.
She breath was shallow and she closed her eyes and began to use her brain. She had tremendous power, tremendous control. Years of practicing had honed her skills. Russell Cowlings was preoccupied with fighting and he was not nearly as strong as she was. Lily began to fight for control of the heavy drapes. The battle didn’t last long. Cowlings had no stamina for a prolonged mental fight nor did he have the necessary skills built up to divide his attention.
Ryland went in low and mean, needing a quick finish. Nicolas was close but he was controlling security cameras and steering any late-nighters away from the alcove. Cowlings was a vicious fighter and quick. He had always been one of the best in hand-to-hand combat and was smart enough to keep out of reach, snapping a series of hard kicks to force Ryland to stay away from him.
Ryland fought down the urge to move too quickly, taking his time, blocking the kicks and pushing slowly inside. He was the stronger physically and once he got his hands on Cowlings it would be over. Ryland caught sight of the two-foot-high ashtray just inside the alcove. The round cylinder was made of metal. Even as he kept up his slow pursuit of Cowlings, he concentrated on the cylinder, forcing the canister to tip over slowly, floating lightly to the thickly carpeted floor to keep from making noise.
Blocking several vicious kicks, he sent the cylinder rolling between Cowling’s legs, causing him to stumble back. Instantly Ryland exploded into action, driving in fast with the edge of his hand to Cowling’s throat, crushing everything in it’s path as it drove through. It sickened him, watching the man fall. Watching him struggle to breathe, an impossible task. Ryland tried to feel nothing. Tried to go dead inside.
He whirled around to find Lily’s enormous eyes staring at him in horror. She scrambled out from under the heavy draperies, trying to crawl to Cowlings with the vague idea of helping him.
Get clear! Get clear! There are too many coming down and I can’t hold them off.
Ryland caught her around her waist, lifted her bodily into his arms, and sprinted for the door. He burst into the night, running for the corner where he knew Arly waited in the car.
“I have to go with John. If the limousine is still parked and waiting for me, Higgens is going to know I didn’t leave immediately,” Lily protested.
Ryland didn’t slow down, didn’t glance at Nicolas as he emerged from another door and paced alongside of him. They separated at the car, diving from either side into the backseat. Ryland dumped Lily onto the floor.
“Go, Arly, go now.” Ryland’s voice was harsh. He told Lily, “Call John on the cell phone and tell him to get the hell out of there.”
Lily glanced up at Ryland’s grim face and obeyed him. John protested, wanted to know what was going on, but the urgency in her voice finally convinced him. He promised to leave for home immediately.
“Thanks for hanging back and covering us,” Ryland said.
Nicolas shrugged. “Kaden took the children home. They were happy to play for a while. I wanted a little more excitement so I thought I’d just hang around.” He leaned down to examine Lily’s face. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“Ryland is. Cowlings had a knife,” she said.
Arly twisted his head around to stare. “What the hell happened?”
“Just drive,” Ryland snapped. “It’s a scratch, no more,” he added in protest as Lily came up on her knees and Nicolas lifted his shirt to look him over.
“You’re damned lucky, Captain,” Nicolas said. “You should have broken his neck when you had him the first time. You knew he had to be taken out. You gave him a shot at you deliberately.”
Ryland didn’t answer, staring out the window, his fixed gaze turbulent.
“She could have been killed, Rye. He was going after her to shake you up.”
“Damn it, Nico, I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” Ryland swung his head around to glare at Nicolas.
Nicolas shrugged his broad shoulders with studied casualness. “You should have killed him the first time you laid your hands on him back at the fence when we escaped.”
Ryland leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, bile rising. He fought it down, his fingers finding and tunneling in the thick silky strands of Lily’s hair. He closed his fist and held her that way. Unknowing. Just needing her presence.
SEVENTEEN
“DAMN it, Lily, I just killed a man. I liked him. I’ve been to his parents’ home. What the hell did you want me to do?” Ryland was pacing back and forth, raw, pent-up emotion boiling to the surface and spilling out, making his voice harsh. “He was a good soldier. A good person. I don’t know what the hell happened to him.” He was remembering Russell Cowlings and the memories hurt.
He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see the horror in her eyes again. Resolutely he kept his back to her as he paced the length of her bedroom and back again. Lily was still running her bath, her velvet cloak thrown carelessly over the back of the stuffed armchair. Her sexy red gown was in a heap on the floor. He snatched it up and crushed the material in his hands. “You could have been killed, Lily. He could have killed you. I let him go the first time because I was worried what you might think. Damn it.” The words exploded out of him. “I’m good at what I do. You can’t just look at me with accusation and shake me up so I can’t function. Do you have any idea what would have happened if he had gotten away? I put all the men in danger to keep from killing him in front of you.” He hoped that was true. He wished it were true. If it wasn’t, it meant he had hesitated because Cowlings had been a friend. And that was a bad, bad thing. Either way he deserved the whip in Nicolas’s voice.
Lily pinned her hair up and stepped into the hot bathwater, praying it would help unlock the muscles knotting in her leg. Her shoulder throbbed where Cowlings had made contact in his leap on the stairway and she knew she had a terrible bruise there. She hadn’t bothered to check; tears were running down her face a
nd she doubted she would even see her image in the mirror. She ached for Ryland. Felt his pain. Felt how sick he was and how angry at himself. He was yelling at her, but she knew his fierce rage was really directed at himself.
Steam rose around her as Lily forced her body into the hot water. She couldn’t comfort him. She couldn’t think of any way to take away his pain. He had reached out to her when her father had been murdered. He had been there when she found out she had been an experiment. She could only sit in a gigantic marble Jacuzzi filled with hot steamy water, crying and wondering why someone with her brain didn’t have a clue what to do.
“Lily?” Ryland rested his hip against the bathroom doorjamb, her gown still crumpled in his hand. She hadn’t looked at him once since they’d raced out of the hotel. Not one single time, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him. She couldn’t have hurt him more if she’d plunged a knife in his gut. “You might as well just understand something right here and now. This is what I do, what I’ve been trained to do, damn it!”
She didn’t look at him, staring straight ahead. Ryland stepped closer. He was going to have an ulcer before he ever got a commitment out of her. He could see the ugly black and purple bruise forming high up on the back of her shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” The harsh rage was gone from his voice. “I’m not letting you go because you saw me doing something that was necessary. You may as well know I won’t. It’s a stupid reason for you to give up on us.” He brought the red material up to his face, rubbed it against his jaw. He wasn’t going to lose her.
Ryland had no idea how it had happened or when it had happened, but she was so firmly entrenched in his heart, in his soul, he couldn’t breathe without her. When she still didn’t answer, just sat there with steam curling her hair and tears falling into the water, he sighed heavily, the anger draining out of him. “Don’t cry, honey. I’m sorry I had to kill him.” His voice was very low and controlled. “Please stop crying, you’re tearing my heart out.”
Shadow Game (GhostWalkers) Page 31
