Murder Game

by Christine Feehan

  "Where in the hell did you get that oil?" He rolled to his side, allowing his body to separate from hers, tucking her close to him.

  "I made it." She brushed his hair from his face. "Did you like it?"

  He turned his head to kiss her fingers. "You know I loved it, Tansy. What do you mean you made it?"

  "I don't suppose you noticed all the flower gardens on the estate? When I was a little girl my mother tried to think of things we could do together that would be fun, girly, and didn't involve touching. So we gardened at first. I had my own little garden that really grew into a huge project. I loved being outdoors with her. She'd talk about all the different plants and their different uses historically. She mentioned perfume and oils and I was intrigued. She always smelled so good, and she told me how my dad took her to this perfume shop and had a special scent made just for her. I decided I wanted to do that myself."

  He nuzzled her neck. She smelled delicious. "So you did."

  She nodded, turning her head just a bit to give him better access. Maybe it was because she'd been deprived of human touch for so long that she craved his hands on her, but she wanted to feel his palm cupping her breasts, his thumb stroking back and forth over her nipple and his mouth skimming the hollow of her shoulder.

  "I did. And I discovered that different oils could be bases used for different purposes. Arnica can help with bruising and is great for massages. Grapeseed is a great moisturizer. There are so many natural oils and herbs and flowers that can be used for all sorts of uses while also creating great fragrances. The cinnamon is my favorite, and fortunately I found a way to make it absorb, taste, and smell good."

  "And you just happened to carry candles in your pack as well?" He leaned over and blew them out, then lay back, licking at her shoulder and then teasing with his teeth, producing a little shiver.

  "I was camping and light tends to hurt my eyes, so as a rule I keep a box in my backpack. They aren't terribly fancy, but they do the trick."

  There was a small silence. He could hear the clock ticking. He inhaled the scent of her, taking it deeper into his lungs, and nuzzled her breast. She never pulled away from him, as he half expected her to do. Instead, her body welcomed his, warm and so soft, always inviting. He could barely breathe with loving her. She thawed something frozen in him when she was close. He hadn't expected it to be like this, but there was no going back.

  Thank you. He couldn't say it out loud. He would have choked on the words.

  She looked at him, her gaze drifting over his face, seeing more than he wanted her to. "For what?" Her fingertip traced his lips.

  For making me feel like I have someone to come home to. Hell. He was choking up anyway. Fuck it. For loving me. He despised being so inept with words, not when she deserved so much better, but it was the best he could do with his throat raw and his eyes burning.

  "I do love you," she said, rolling over to sprawl on top of him, framing his face with her hands. She kissed him, sliding her tongue along his lips, and, when he opened, into his mouth, to tangle in a slow, leisurely dance with his. "I didn't think I would, but who could ever resist you?"

  "I want to be inside you again," he whispered. "I need to be. Slide down my body and get me hard, baby."

  He was already coming back fast, but she didn't hesitate, kissing her way down his chest until her hands cupped his sac, stroking upward, and her mouth closed over him, tight and hot.

  Kadan came alive instantly under the growing experience of her fantasy mouth. He made love to her again, as gently as he could for as long as he could, but inevitably, he grew rough and hard, plunging deeper and faster, riding her with everything he was. It didn't matter that he took them both over the edge again. His body might be temporarily sated, but his mind would never be. Touching her, loving her, was a miracle.

  He curled his body around hers, his arm possessively around her waist, and listened to her breathing. He could spend a lifetime holding her close. He waited, there in the dark, with the scent of cinnamon and sex hanging in the air, until she was in a deep sleep. Very gently he pressed a kiss against the nape of her neck and removed her hand from over the top of his. Rolling carefully off the bed, he pulled on his jeans and a shirt and dragged his belt with his weapons and a few supplies around his waist before slipping out of the room.

  Ryland was waiting for him in the hall. "Took you long enough."

  "I wanted to make certain she was asleep in case this goes bad."

  Ryland nodded. "We'll have to make entry from outside. He's barricaded the door."

  Kadan shrugged. "He's not stupid, but he's so full of shit. He's up to his ears in Whitney's mess. The wife is clean though. I could read her and she despises Whitney. I think the only real source of contention in their marriage has been Whitney."

  "So she wanted to take Tansy to a different doctor and her husband refused," Ryland said. "I wonder why he would do that." He frowned and leaned close to Kadan, sniffing. "Cinnamon?"

  "Shut the hell up," Kadan snapped and pushed past him.

  Ryland took another whiff and gave a low whistle. "You smell yummy. I'm getting hungry. Maybe cinnamon buns."

  Kadan flipped him off rudely.

  Nico stood waiting by the front door. As always he was their backup. He frowned when the two GhostWalkers got close. "What the hell is that smell?"

  "Kadan's new spicy cologne."

  "Go to hell, Rye," Kadan said and shot him a look that should have withered him on the spot. "Both of you can go to hell."

  "I think his blood sugar's dropping," Ryland explained. "Must have been all the cinnamon candy he got tonight."

  Nico put on an innocent face. "That woman of yours smells a little like cinnamon."

  "Makes you hungry, doesn't it?" Ryland said.

  "Yep. Can't wait to tell Dahlia about this one. The ice man gets all hot and bothered around cinnamon spice. Who would have guessed?"

  "Don't make me shoot you." Kadan yanked open the front door. "Because I'll do you both in a heartbeat and never look back."

  Ryland smirked at him, not in the least intimidated. He began humming a tune overly loud under his breath.

  Kadan shot him a look of intense irritation. "What are you doing now?"

  Nico nudged him. "Don't you know that tune? I'd think it was your favorite. You're such a music cretin. Neil Young wrote some great songs." When Kadan still looked blank, Nico sang the lyrics while Ryland hummed. "I wanna live with a cinnamon girl . . ."

  "I really am going to shoot you both." Kadan shook his head.

  They'd never let him live it down. By tomorrow both of the clowns were going to buy him a Neil Young album with the song "Cinnamon Girl" on it. He shook his head and kept his grin to himself. He'd probably play it too, but hell if he'd ever tell either of them that.

  He gave a small salute to Tucker, who was making the rounds and emerged out of the bushes as if he'd just materialized.

  "Everything's quiet. Gator ditched the Humvee on the other side of town. He'll be back in a while," Tucker said.

  Ryland nudged him. "You smell love in the air, Tucker?"

  Tucker inhaled. "Kadan. Man. High-five me, bro."

  "I'm going to make every one of you eat those smiles," Kadan groused and pushed through them to stalk around to the side of the house, ignoring the soft, taunting laughter that followed him.

  He crouched just below the window of the bedroom they'd given Don and Sharon Meadows. It was time to pay the man a little visit. They'd told him the window was wired, but there was no alarm on, not until Kadan knew exactly what he was dealing with. Just in case Don had his own method of alarms, he checked all around the window and listened for the telltale hum of a live wire. It was silent, other than a few soft snores from Tansy's father.

  Kadan slipped his blade along the windowsill before levering the window up. He'd made certain there would be no noise when he opened the window before he'd ever put the couple in the room to begin with. He went headfirst into the room, creeping do
wn the wall to the carpeted floor, knife in his teeth, Ryland right behind him.

  They split up, one on either side of the large double bed. Ryland pulled out the air syringe and made certain Sharon would stay asleep. When he was certain she was out, he signaled Kadan and slipped into the shadows where Don wouldn't detect him. Nico took up a position just outside the window where he could train a gun on the man at all times.

  Kadan crept up the wall at the head of the bed and slipped behind Don to settle his weight carefully. He didn't bother with a knife; if he had to kill Don, he would do it with his bare hands. He didn't want blood for Sharon to wake up and find.

  He placed his hand carefully on the man's throat and pressed hard enough to wake him.

  Don's eyes snapped open and he stiffened.

  Kadan's fingers dug deeper, letting him feel his enormous strength. "I wouldn't move if I were you," he said quietly. "I'm a patient man, Mr. Meadows, but I'm tired tonight, and I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I'm going to ask a couple of questions, and whether you live or die in the next few minutes depends on your answers."

  Don flicked a quick glance at his wife, his lips compressing tightly.

  "She's fine. I can read minds, and hers was fairly open. She loves you and Tansy. The two of you are her world. She despises Peter Whitney and can't understand why you insist on having him in your lives when you know he's a monster." Kadan leaned close. "I can't understand why you would ever risk your daughter with that man. You know she's one of his experiments."

  Don jerked, his eyes widening in shock.

  "You think the government doesn't know about all the little girls whose heads he fucked up? He did the same thing to a bunch of Special Forces men. I'm one of those men. I don't have a lot of love for Whitney and you shouldn't either."

  "I don't," Don snarled. "I despise the man."

  Kadan stared down into the defiant, angry eyes and read guilt. He didn't let up on the pressure at all. "You despise him, yet you force your daughter to see him even when she says he makes her uncomfortable."

  "It was part of the adoption agreement."

  "You knew what he'd done when you adopted her." Kadan made it a statement.

  Don's gaze shifted. "Damn it, this isn't any of your business."

  Kadan leaned down, staring into the man's eyes. He wanted no mistakes, because this time, Meadows had better understand fully what and whom he was dealing with. "Tansy's mine now, and I take care of my own. I will kill you and never look back, Meadows. Give me a reason not to. I don't much like you and you sure as hell don't have to like me, but if you want to live, you'd better answer my questions. I can smell lies and deceit all over your sorry ass."

  Don pressed his lips together harder.

  Kadan gave him one last chance. "Do you know what he's doing with those girls now? Do you know why he wants Tansy back? He has a breeding program. The women don't have to be cooperative, just get pregnant by the men he chooses for them. He wants the babies. That's the man you're protecting. That's the man you're giving your daughter to."

  Don stared up at him with shrewd eyes. The man had an enormous IQ. He was successful in a highly secretive world, quite brilliant and much respected in his chosen field. He might be arrogant, but he had some cause to be. Kadan remained silent under the close scrutiny. There was no doubt in his mind that Don was making up his mind about his future son-in-law. Kadan knew what he was seeing. Rough, cold lines etched deep. The picture wasn't pretty and it shouldn't be. Kadan would kill him if it was necessary and he wouldn't lose sleep over it. If Don Meadows saw nothing else, Kadan wanted him to see that.

  "I went to school with him. He was elite. Tons of money. His parents were billionaires, you know. The school was full of people with money, but few in his class. I was there on a scholarship. It was a private boarding school and I was young, wanting to fit in without a hope in hell of doing so. I was homesick, but this was a chance of a lifetime and my parents were so proud that I'd been chosen for the honor of attending such an elite school."

  Don sighed and shifted slightly, glanced at his wife and then back up at Kadan. "If I'm going to tell you this, can I at least sit up?"

  Kadan held his gaze. "You've got a sniper who never misses pointing a gun at your head. You have one of my team sitting across the room from you holding another gun in his hands and he doesn't miss either. And just so you know, I'd kill you before either of them got off a shot." He pulled his hand away from the man's throat and backed up a few steps, completely confident in his speed and ability to carry out his threat if Don made a wrong move.

  Don rubbed his throat, sliding his body cautiously forward and folding into a sitting position. He reached for Sharon's hand and checked her pulse. "My wife has nothing to do with any of this. If you kill me, give me your word you won't harm her."

  Kadan's eyebrow shot up. "You'd believe me?"

  "You're a hired killer, Mr. Montague, but you're not a liar."

  Kadan kept his expression blank. That wasn't exactly the truth. He'd do whatever it took to complete a mission, but he shrugged his shoulders. "Your wife won't be harmed."

  For a moment relief showed in Don's eyes, then his gaze flickered away. Yeah. There was guilt there. The man was knee-deep in dirt.

  "Peter Whitney is an incredibly intelligent man. I admire intelligence. We gravitated toward one another. I was younger, and in a school where everyone has money--and degrees of it--it's difficult to fit in. I wanted what they all had."

  Kadan remained silent. He might understand it, but he had a bad feeling, and a part of him was already mourning for Tansy. As he watched Don talk, taking in the shape of his eyes and the silver hair, things began to click.

  "Whitney has this built-in radar for psychic ability. He can pass someone in the street, and even if they don't know it, he does. He can shield his brain and he can spot psychics, but that's the extent of it. He's many things, Mr. Montague, but he's a patriot as twisted as his visions for the country are. Of course in the early days, I didn't see him as twisted. He was older, smart, which few people were, and he had more money than anyone else on the planet. Everything he said sounded golden."

  Kadan stayed patient when he wanted to shake the man. His revelations were going to hurt Tansy--and she'd have to be told. Damn this man for his childish greed.

  "Whitney envisioned a world without men dying in battle. He said we could create supersoldiers. I honestly didn't think the psychic abilities were strong enough in people. Mine weren't. I feel things sometimes. When I see a helicopter or an airplane, I can redesign it for better function and speed and maneuverability because I 'see' the flaws."

  "And you have a natural shield."

  Don nodded. "I didn't know it for a long time. How many people can read minds? I met Sharon while I was in graduate school. She was so small and fragile, with a weak heart. I fell like a ton of bricks, but she comes from the same kind of money as Whitney, and although I was making a name for myself, I was nowhere in her league. I didn't think she'd look twice at me."

  Kadan was beginning to put the pieces together. Don Meadows was a fool. This was all about his wife.

  "I managed to get her to go out with me, and in the end, she married me. Her family was furious and threatened to cut her out of her inheritance, but she married me anyway. Eventually her father backed me in my business, and we've been lucky and have established enough government contacts to be more than successful."

  "But . . . ," Kadan prompted. Don Meadows was circling the subject, hoping it would be enough without disclosing his ties to Whitney. Kadan wasn't about to let him get away with it.

  Meadows sighed heavily and stroked Sharon's limp hand. "Long before Sharon's father would take a chance on me, I worked for Peter. He had a huge research center and I was given my own department. I had visions of maybe becoming partners with him one day and showing Sharon's family that we didn't need them. Peter and I took a business trip to Europe. I was twenty-six. Sharon was ill and couldn't come
with me." He shook his head, his expression rippling with pain. "Her health is very fragile."

  Kadan nodded. He already knew what was coming.

  "I don't know what happened." Don rubbed at the lines in his brow. "I think about it all the time. I was drinking and there was this girl. She couldn't have been more than fifteen." He looked up at Kadan, pain in his eyes. "Thirteen. She was thirteen." He shook his head again. "I don't remember much about that night. Only that I must have gone crazy. The sex wasn't consensual. I know because I've seen the videotape a hundred times and it's ugly. It's damned ugly to know that you're capable of something like that when it's so repugnant to you."

  There was bitterness in his voice, even self-loathing. Don brought his wife's hand to his mouth. "Peter cleaned up the mess--his money, of course--and we came home. He swore no one would ever know."

  "And you trusted him? You weren't suspicious that he might have had something to do with you acting so out of character?"

  "I had to trust him. He was my friend. It didn't occur to me until a long time after, and by then, I had so much to lose. Sharon couldn't have children. She knew I wanted them. I was afraid if she found out I'd not only cheated on her, but that I was capable of rape, of animal brutality, she'd leave me. She'd think I married her for her money. There was a part of me that wanted the money and I had forced a child. God!" He dropped his head into his hands. "You have no idea what it feels like to know a monster lives inside of you."

  "Have you ever done it since?"

  Don's head jerked up, eyes flashing with anger--with denial. "No! I'd shoot myself first if I ever had such an inclination. I don't know what happened that night, but I saw myself. It was me raping that child. The video wasn't tampered with."

  "But someone set the camera up in the first place."

  Don nodded. "Yeah. But I didn't know there was a video until five years later."

  "When Whitney brought Tansy to you. She's your biological daughter, isn't she?"

  Don swallowed hard and ducked his head again, shaking it from side to side. "Whitney called me into his private lab and brought Tansy out. You should have seen her. All white hair and those eyes. She had the same mouth her mother had. I knew she was mine the moment I laid eyes on her. Whitney showed me the tape. And he had tapes of the girl in what looked like a hospital during her pregnancy. She sold the baby to Whitney. Later, he claimed she died in a car accident, and maybe she did; I searched for her, but couldn't find her."