Lethal Game

by Christine Feehan

  “Maybe not so thin,” Duncan said. “I need the name of the other couple you spoke with. They’re staying here at Marie’s?”

  Malichai nodded. He continued to slide little caresses over the back of Amaryllis’s hand. Something in the way Duncan said Marie’s name caught his interest. “Do you know Marie Stubbins?” Marie hadn’t indicated she knew him.

  “I knew Carl, her husband. He was a good man. When they got married, I was already in the service, finishing up my time. I went straight into the police academy, but I talked to Carl often and he talked about Marie. Hard times, that loss.” He looked directly at Malichai. “I’ll need those names now.”

  Malichai gave them to him, feeling a little guilty, but Burnell and Jay needed to stay safe. If Anna and Bryon had been killed because they overheard something they shouldn’t have, then it was better that they told everything they knew to the police, so there would be no reason to kill them.

  Marie and Brady came down the hall, Duncan and the officer joined them, and Marie showed the three policemen out. Malichai and Amaryllis waited for her to return. Marie wrapped her arms around Amaryllis and held her tight.

  “I can’t believe this happened to them. Poor Anna and Bryon. I know Bryon didn’t kill her. I just wish I could have said the right thing to convince them that Bryon would never kill Anna.”

  Malichai hugged Marie to him, trying to comfort her. “I don’t think either of the detectives believed he killed his wife and then himself. I don’t think they believed it before they even came here. Maybe the crime scene appeared too staged. I don’t know. Watching them closely, I could see that neither thought that Bryon killed Anna. You just confirmed that belief.”

  “Thank heaven,” Marie said. “Those poor people deserve better than having their families believe something that horrible. Can you imagine how Bryon’s parents would feel, having their child accused of something like that? And Anna’s parents believing it? No, the detectives need to figure this out fast.”

  “They will, Marie,” Amaryllis said. “They seem very confident.”

  Malichai waited again while Amaryllis walked with Marie to her room, all the while murmuring reassurances. He needed a few reassurances himself, specifically that his woman wasn’t going to take off on him. She was that little bit too nervous. He’d looked at her a few times and she’d refused to meet his eyes.

  They needed to talk, and he needed to bring in a couple of his teammates in order to ensure he didn’t lose his woman. She wasn’t going to like it when he admitted who and what he was—or that he knew she was one of Whitney’s orphans.

  6

  Amaryllis caught Marie in a hug before she closed her door, holding on to her tightly. She closed her eyes, inhaling her scent, wanting to imprint every detail of her onto her brain. She wished she dared go in to Jacy and do the same, but Marie would get suspicious. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she forced them away. Marie hugged her back, just as hard.

  “I love you,” Amaryllis whispered. It was the first time in her life she’d ever said the words, ever meant them. Marie was mother, sister and friend all rolled into one. Leaving her was the hardest thing she’d ever do in her life.

  Marie had taught her about love. About life. About families. She’d taught her compassion and how to be a better person. She was the one who made her think about the girls she’d escaped with and whether or not they ever made it out—whether the soldiers had chased after them, giving Amaryllis time to get away. She’d lain in bed for months wondering if they’d been captured, wondering what kind of person she was that she hadn’t gone back to check. All because of Marie. Now it was too late, they were long gone.

  Only two of the girls had left with her in the end. The others had never realized just what Whitney was doing to them or what he intended. Amaryllis feared for them. Whitney admired and sought intelligence. Those remaining didn’t think logically, nor did they realize the danger they were in. The two girls who escaped were more like Amaryllis. Silver and Coral were both quick on making decisions and had been trained as assassins, as she had been. They were loners as well but had formed some sort of loose friendship that had never included her. Part of that had been her fault. She’d preferred solitude. Peace. A good book.

  “I love you too,” Marie whispered, hugging her hard. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through this last year without you.”

  That made Amaryllis feel guilty, not good. She had to leave. She’d never gotten her paperwork done. To get the necessary forgeries, she needed money, and instead of saving her paychecks, she’d turned the money back into the bed-and-breakfast, helping to redecorate and open each new room so they could take in more guests. They still had other rooms they could renovate. They just needed the money. Marie’s money went to Jacy’s medical care.

  “You would have found a way,” Amaryllis whispered. “You can move mountains, Marie. Without you, I would have drowned.”

  Marie pulled back, frowning, her eyes moving over Amaryllis’s face. She clutched her arms even tighter. “You aren’t planning . . .”

  Amaryllis couldn’t bear for her to say the words aloud. She hugged her again and then turned away, back toward the hall. To her consternation, Malichai was still there. He stood as still as a statue, blending into the shadows. He had a way of disappearing, making himself so still and quiet it was as if no one could see or hear him. His energy was so low she couldn’t detect him.

  She’d been taken from an orphanage as an infant by Dr. Peter Whitney, a genius billionaire. He had laboratories set up all over the United States and ultimately in other countries as well. She’d been raised from the time she could barely walk to fight. There were hundreds of visits to the hospital. Thousands of vials of blood taken. Her life had been one of strict discipline and learning. School and warfare. And then came the rumor of the breeding program. Amaryllis was not okay with that, especially once she caught Owen Starks’s eye. He was the worst as far as she was concerned, and she decided to get out. Sometimes, she just knew—like now. No matter how much she wanted to stay, she had to get out of there before it was too late.

  She did her best to pretend not to see Malichai as he stepped out of the shadows, but he cut her off and took her arm as she turned toward the room she claimed as her own.

  “We need to talk.”

  The ominous words men never liked to hear and there he was, saying them to Amaryllis. She might have laughed if he didn’t sound and look so serious. Her stomach plummeted. She blinked at him and then looked down at the fingers curling around her arm. “I really need to get some sleep, Malichai. We can talk in the morning.”

  “Who do you think you’re kidding, baby?” he asked. “By morning you’ll be gone. Let’s talk before you do your disappearing act.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head, but she didn’t lie to him. She couldn’t do that to him. Her heart accelerated, worried now that she might not be able to leave so easily. He could change her mind. One look. One word. His touch. She was so susceptible to him. How could she explain to him what she was? A killing machine. A woman who had never even checked on the two others who had escaped with her, while he had gone back for complete strangers and gotten his body shot up. He would never look at her again.

  And how did he know she had planned to leave? How could he know her so well after only a week? Had she given herself away in other ways as well? She’d grown complacent there in the bed-and-breakfast. She’d felt too safe for too long.

  Amaryllis walked beside Malichai down the hall to his room. She stayed tucked into his side, right under his shoulder. She loved being there. It felt right. So right. She wrapped her arm around his waist, although it was an indulgence and she knew she shouldn’t have. Her body brushed his with every step he took, and she wanted that for the rest of her life. A partner. Malichai. The thought came unbidden and out of nowhere, scaring her. Still, she stayed tight against him un
til she was in his room.

  She took the armchair closest to the window and curled up in it, pulling her legs up and tucking them under her, making herself smaller. Malichai didn’t bother with the lights. It didn’t matter to her. She could easily see in the dark. He paced across the room and when he turned back toward her, she caught the predatory sheen in his eyes and a chill went down her spine.

  “I’m a GhostWalker,” he announced without preamble.

  It was the last thing she expected him to say and it was akin to a physical blow. She hunched, better to absorb it. Slowly, she uncurled her legs, putting her feet to the floor, every bit the predator he was, ready to unleash her power when it was needed. Inside, she was crumbling. Falling apart. Shocked, dizzy with grief. Malichai. Her Malichai, the enemy.

  “I’m not going to give you an explanation because I know you know what that is. You know because you’re one of Whitney’s orphans. I can only surmise you managed to escape on your own.”

  He fell silent, his hand going up as if that would stop her from launching herself at him. The only thing stopping her was her inability to breathe properly. But the moment she got that under control . . .

  “If you’re waiting for me to say something, it isn’t going to happen.” She went very still. There was none of the warmth that normally showed in her expression when she looked at him. She watched him, wholly focused on him, revealing the cat, letting him see she wasn’t without her own physical aids.

  Malichai went doggedly on. “I really am on vacation. It was entirely a coincidence for me to be here. At first, I worried that you were sent after me for some reason. I was weaker than normal and if Whitney was looking to get one of his soldiers back, it would be a perfect time.”

  He shrugged and began to pace across the floor, restless energy building in him until his energy felt as if he might explode. She actually felt the pounding ache in his leg, but there was nothing she could do about it, no matter how much she longed to, no matter how strong that pull was to help him.

  “Amaryllis . . . I have to find the right words. Make you believe me, so you don’t leave me, but I’m not that man. I’m not good with words.” He sighed, pushed his hand through his hair and resumed his restless pacing. Now he was limping a little. “I’m required to take photographs of anyone I encounter, anyone that gets close to me. My team watches over me, but I found myself protecting you even from them.” He stole a glance at her, clearly trying to read her expression. “I wasn’t positive about you then, but I still had to protect you.”

  There was sincerity in his voice. If he was lying to her, then he was the best actor in the world. He was just . . . too good. Too amazing. Too everything. She sat there, shaking her head. Not even realizing she was doing it. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, wishing she was good enough for this man.

  She glanced down at the book he had lying in plain sight on his end table. Toxic Game. Her stomach did a slow flip. Her heart actually stuttered. She didn’t believe for a minute that it was his favorite book or that he’d read the dog-eared copy before he’d teased her about it, but he’d sent away for it and read it because she liked it. What man did that?

  “Malichai.” She said his name softly, wanting to cry. There was no hope for them. None. She had to go. He had to get out of there. The cops would find out she didn’t exist, and Whitney had ears and eyes everywhere. He wouldn’t be safe. She hadn’t thought about that—that Malichai wouldn’t be safe. She had to persuade him to go. If she couldn’t . . . she would have no choice but to stay and protect him. That leg was so messed up. How had everything gotten to this point so fast? That was Whitney. He could ruin lives so quickly, so easily, and never think anything of it.

  “The more time we spent together the more I was certain you were one of Whitney’s orphans, but you have a powerful shield. That’s rare, you know. Only a very few GhostWalkers have that talent. And your healing ability . . . if Whitney found out about that one, he’d take you apart just to learn how it works. Is that why you ran? He found out you were a psychic healer?”

  If she hadn’t been falling for him before, she would be now. The compassion in his voice. The understanding on his face. In the year she had been at Marie’s bed-and-breakfast, she had watched all kinds of men come through, and just as she’d studied the guards, she’d carefully observed the various men. None of them had appealed to her the way Malichai did. He was simply extraordinary.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He was so honest. She nodded slowly. “Yes. It was an accident. I never would have allowed him to see, especially once I knew about his idiot breeding program. A couple of the other girls were eager to show Whitney the things they could do, and I couldn’t stop them. Nothing I said made them stop.”

  She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her suddenly throbbing temples. Those girls. They just wouldn’t hear that Whitney didn’t love them and have their best interests at heart. They were so certain if they just did everything he wanted, he would give them the world someday. Amaryllis had no idea what he promised them, but they always sold the other girls out by telling Whitney everything they said or did.

  “How did he find out about your healing gift? Was it the time you were fourteen?”

  She shook her head. That voice of his. Who could possibly resist it? She sighed and forced herself to look at him. Just because those girls were ninnies didn’t mean she should have left them there, although she still had no idea what else she could have done. What would Malichai have done? He was probably strong enough to carry them out on his shoulders.

  “One of the girls cut herself with a knife. It was really deep, and she was bleeding too much, too fast. I didn’t think, I just . . . stopped it. She told him. She told him everything. I knew immediately I was going to have to escape the minute I saw the way he was looking at me. He hadn’t even called me in to ask me a single question yet. It was just that look on his face.” She pressed her hand to her stomach, remembering. “The moment he knew I could heal, everything changed. He wanted my babies—that became the most important thing in the world to him. And there was a soldier who just wouldn’t leave me alone. The moment he found out I was being put into that program, he asked Whitney to pair me with him.”

  Her eyes met Malichai’s there in the dark and a chill went down her spine. Her sweet Malichai had a dark side to him. A very lethal side. There was no getting around it. He didn’t like the idea of another man insisting Whitney give her to him. He didn’t move at all. He was so still he seemed part of the shadows, but his eyes were as cold as ice yet alive with ice-cold flames. She’d never seen anything so frightening or so charismatic in her life.

  “That wasn’t going to happen. I asked if the girls wanted out, but I waited until the last possible moment because I knew there were two girls always fawning on Whitney, currying his favor by ratting on us. Two went with me. We went over the fence and split up. I have no idea if they got away clean. I didn’t have time to create an identity. The cops will realize I don’t exist, and once I’m put in their system, Whitney will know where I am.”

  “You should have told me. You know about me. You had to have suspected all along what I was.” He began pacing again, as if he couldn’t keep all of his restless energy cooped up one minute longer, or he wanted to shake her—she couldn’t decide which.

  She shrugged. “I liked you. I liked spending time with you. I hoped you didn’t guess I was one as well so I could stay here. It’s the first real home I’ve had. Marie and Jacy feel like family to me, but I can’t stay, not when the cops will be all over the fact that Amaryllis Johnson doesn’t exist.” She took a deep breath. “And, Malichai, sit down. Every step you take is hurting that leg worse. Your bone is going to disintegrate if you keep it up. I think the pressure you’re putting on it is causing more of those tiny fractures. Like stress fractures people can get when they run on concrete.”

  He turned his h
ead and looked straight at her. Right into her eyes. Those cat eyes staring at her in the dark. “I’m in love with you, Amaryllis, and I don’t want to lose you. If you give me permission, I can have my team get your identity fixed and in place so that the first time the police search for you and can’t find you will appear to be an error in their system.”

  Her heart nearly stopped and then began beating overtime. There was a strange roaring in her ears. She almost didn’t hear anything after he declared he loved her. No one had ever said those words to her. Not one single person. She almost couldn’t breathe. She even felt a little dizzy. Malichai had actually said he loved her. Her. The woman who had escaped Whitney and left behind two other girls. She didn’t know where the other three were.

  She burst into tears. She wasn’t a crier. You couldn’t cry if you were one of Whitney’s orphans; that earned you all kinds of really bad punishments. She couldn’t stop though. She found herself with her hands over her face, sobbing. All because he loved her. He couldn’t love her. He just couldn’t.

  “Baby, stop.”

  Malichai’s voice, as always, was so gentle when he spoke to her. That brush of velvet over her skin, in her mind. Now she recognized it as something else—emotion. Love. She hadn’t known what it was. What it felt like. He had given her that as well, and she couldn’t accept it.

  “I can’t. You can’t love me. You just can’t, Malichai. You’re so good and I’m . . . not. I’m just not.”

  “Amaryllis.”

  He said her name and there was a hint of laughter in his voice. Male amusement, although she knew he was trying to hide it. She glared up at him through her tears. She was spilling her guts, telling him the very worst of her, and he found that funny?

  “Babe, there is nothing in your life you could possibly have done that is worse than anything I’ve ever done. I’m a fucking soldier. I’m a GhostWalker. What the hell do you think that means I do?”