Lethal Game

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Lethal Game Page 28

by Christine Feehan


  “We have a few regulars who come in during the season for us. I know them. They’ll be there daily to clean rooms and help in the kitchen. They’ve been coming in for the last month.”

  Ezekiel nodded as he parked the car in her reserved space. “I’m going to help you walk if you think you can. If not, we’re going in the back way and I can carry you.”

  “I just need fluids and a little rest, and I’ll be fine. My body feels like sandpaper,” Amaryllis admitted. She had a whopper of a headache, which came with dehydration, but she didn’t tell him. She sent him a small grin. “We can test the theory that I can walk.”

  “My wife is going to love you,” he stated and reached in to help her off the seat. “She looks like this little fragile pixie, but she’s tough as nails.”

  Amaryllis heard the love in his voice and somehow, that made her like him even more. She especially liked that he looked after Malichai, and he didn’t hide the fact that his brothers meant everything to him. Now she could see that same protection and love extended to his wife—and would be to her.

  Her legs nearly buckled, and she had to hold on to him. Craig Williams stood a few feet from them beside a smooth little Mazda, and when he saw her nearly go down, he rushed over.

  “What can I do to help? Should I call an ambulance?” He looked genuinely upset, although clearly curiosity was eating him up.

  The van carrying Malichai pulled up to the back door of the bed-and-breakfast and Craig swiveled around, watching as several GhostWalkers exited the vehicle. One opened the back doors and reached in. Amaryllis held her breath. She hadn’t wanted to leave Malichai, but she didn’t have a choice. Now she stared into the van, her heart beating overtime.

  The two men, twins it appeared, pulled out the gurney as if they knew exactly what they were doing. They were strong too. Malichai was a big man and heavy with muscle, but they handled the gurney as if it was an easy task. Blood and fluids were still going into Malichai as they carried him toward the back door. They moved fast, as if they did this sort of thing all the time.

  Mordichai leapt from the front seat and rushed to open the door. Craig stared after them, his mouth wide open, and then he turned back to Amaryllis. Ezekiel lifted her into his arms and carried her right around the man to follow Malichai and the others inside. Craig abruptly closed his mouth and hurried after them.

  Marie came halfway down the hall, saw Malichai on the gurney and, without a single word, led the way to his room, unlocking the door quickly to allow them in.

  “Ma’am,” one of the SEALs said as he moved past her with the gurney. “I’m Jack Norton. Thanks for helping us out.”

  “Ken, ma’am,” his twin introduced himself as they gently placed Malichai in his bed and hung the equipment as high as possible on the bedpost. He was the more scarred of the two. He had very symmetrical scarring down his face and neck. Every bit of exposed skin showed those scars. “He’ll be fine. Just wanted a little sympathy from his girl and went a little too far. Navy won this round.” He winked at Marie.

  Amaryllis thought he was one of the most charming men she’d ever been around. Once he started talking, it was easy to see past the scars to the man.

  Marie fussed with Malichai’s pillow before looking up at Amaryllis. “Are you certain he’s going to be all right?”

  “It’s his leg,” Amaryllis assured her. “He reinjured it, but with a little rest, he’ll be fine. There’s a little thing in the parking lot, with my car, their cars, whatever. Too many cars, you know how it goes, and not enough parking spaces. Do you think you could go with Ezekiel and straighten it out for me? Zeke is Malichai’s older brother.” She wanted to give Ezekiel his time alone with Marie.

  She hoped if anyone was listening in, it would make sense that, even though Amaryllis was engaged to Malichai, his family weren’t frequent visitors to San Diego.

  “Of course,” Marie said readily, clearly happy to do something to help out.

  Ezekiel was all charm, taking the van keys from the Navy men and then gently putting his hand on Marie’s back as he escorted her past Craig, who lingered in the hallway, staring into the room. Mordichai reached over and closed the door without looking at the man.

  The moment the door was closed, Rubin shoved a bottle of water into Amaryllis’s hand. “You need to drink that.” He leaned back in the armchair and downed just about an entire bottle of water.

  “I have to check his leg again,” she protested. She took the bottle of water and then perched on the bed beside Malichai. Her hands felt hot, the healing energy already pushing out of her, needing to find the fragmenting along the bones, those tiny lines that would spread and widen until his bones would no longer hold up and he would lose his leg.

  “You have to rest, Amaryllis,” Rubin said firmly. “You won’t do him any good if you collapse. Drink the damn water and give yourself a few minutes.”

  She removed the cap and took a drink. The water seemed to soak into her parched throat. She crawled up on the bed beside Malichai, ignoring everyone, and lay next to him, intending to just take a minute to rest the way Rubin instructed. He was experienced and knew what he was talking about and he clearly regarded Malichai as a brother. Her eyelids drooped but she saw one of the twins go over to Rubin and set up an IV in order to give him fluids.

  She jerked awake about an hour later, shocked that she’d been asleep. Rubin was already standing beside Malichai, his face a mask of concentration. She could see that he hadn’t been the only one given fluids. While she’d been asleep, the two GhostWalkers from the other team had been busy giving fluids to her. She slid off the bed and knelt beside Malichai’s leg, careful to keep out of Rubin’s way.

  Her attention refused to stay focused on the two men who were moving around the room, pulling shades, changing the bag of blood, checking Malichai’s pulse and blood pressure. Her mind kept straying to his leg, to those horrendous wounds, to the damage Mills had done to him. She’d had episodes in the past when someone was injured where she’d been unable to stay away from them, knowing she needed to help heal them. This was different. This was far more intense. Everything in her seemed completely focused on Malichai’s injuries. She had to help him. She had no choice. The healer in her was becoming much stronger, much more demanding.

  “Amaryllis, work on his calf,” Rubin suggested, as if understanding or feeling the powerful energy amassing in her.

  He didn’t look at her. He was, like her, seeing a different way altogether. She could tell by his eyes, the way they were crystallized, his vision seemingly turned inward. It wasn’t that at all. Vision expanded outward; she saw the injuries through skin and muscle. His entire leg was stretched out in front of her as if she were a surgeon and that bone was under a bright light and a magnifying lens. She saw every detail in sharp relief.

  Amaryllis knew her talent was getting stronger with use. She’d never seen an injury so clearly. The tiny cracks had done just as they had before, moved through the bone like an invasive cancer, spreading out from the points where the bullets had struck and where Mills had landed the worst of his kicks. She could see the impact point and the spreading destruction. His bone was dense. Why was it so brittle and open for destruction?

  That made her wonder about his other bones. Had they also suffered similar damage? She would have to remember to check. In the meantime, she had a lot of work to do. She started at the worst point, where the cracks radiated outward like a giant tree with many branches coming off of it. She was patient. She wanted her repairs to be stronger than ever so that if anyone did something similar to Malichai again, there wouldn’t be a recurrence of this problem. Each jagged line was knitted back together with meticulous attention to detail.

  Because the lines weren’t even, she had to be extremely careful as she filled in those tiny cracks, to get all the way to the very bottom of each of them. Some of the cracks were extremely deep. The uppe
r surface was deceptive in that the fissures could look shallow, just barely a faint line, but beneath that, on the next layer down, the crack extended at an angle, a much deeper gap. That would make the bone more unstable than ever.

  The heat gathering inside her became a laser to work with. The pinpoint of light made it easier to see into the fissures, noting which ones were truly shallow and others that continued farther down at an angle. She had managed to work almost the entire calf when the energy suddenly just left her body. As it did, she found she couldn’t kneel upright any longer. She actually slumped over, hitting her head on his hip.

  Mordichai was there instantly, his arm around her, helping her to slide down beside Malichai and then half sit so Trap could push another bottle of water at her.

  Ezekiel gripped Rubin by the shoulder. “You have to stop. You two have been at this for hours. Rubin. I mean it. Sit the fuck down.” He poured command into his voice.

  Rubin looked so pale she wanted to make him stop, even though she knew Malichai’s bone was a disaster. And maybe there was no saving it. If Rubin couldn’t do it, no one could. He stumbled once to the chair Ezekiel took him to, but his hands were steady as he drank from the water bottle and then he sent her a faint smile.

  “How you holding up?”

  She felt a real camaraderie with him. He knew what Malichai’s leg was really like and what it was going to take to keep it from shattering. He also knew the drive a healer felt when they saw that kind of horrendous damage. She sent him a small smile. “I’m doing okay. It’s strange, but I don’t even feel time passing. Do you?”

  He shook his head. “We were at it for hours though.” He glanced across the room.

  Amaryllis followed his gaze with her own. Ezekiel was seated in the armchair. His fingers drummed on the small table. There was a cup of coffee right beside his hand.

  “I don’t think either of you should keep these healing sessions quite so long,” he said. “I don’t want to risk your health. If you slow it down, Rubin, won’t you still accomplish the same thing without such an obvious risk? Amaryllis?”

  She didn’t answer. She was too tired to do so, and she wasn’t certain what she would have said. She didn’t know if she could slow down. Her mind mapped out the injuries, and that powerful healing energy inside her insisted on working. She hadn’t noticed the passage of time. She only saw the injury and needed to fix it. She thought that need was more of a compulsion than anything else. How could she stop herself if she wasn’t even aware of time passing?

  “The injury is quite severe,” Rubin said. “Mills was wearing steel-toed boots and his kicks landed right on each of the spots where Malichai was shot. Even so, the bone should have held up. The exact same weird fracturing occurred. It doesn’t make sense. Some other factor is at play here, and honestly, the only thing I can think of that’s suspicious is the field dressing.” He glanced at Trap, who remained a silent sentry, his back to the door.

  “Can you repair the bone again?” Ezekiel asked. This time his voice was grim.

  “We’re trying. The damage to his artery was severe. Had I not been there, he would have been gone within a matter of a couple of minutes,” Rubin said. “The bone”—he looked at Amaryllis—“I don’t have an answer. We’re trying.”

  Beside her, Malichai stirred, trying to pull himself into a sitting position. Instantly, Mordichai helped him. Malichai slipped his arm around Amaryllis.

  “How does your leg feel?” Ezekiel asked his brother.

  “Like it’s on fire. Much hotter than the last time. She generates so much energy, it’s brutal.” He looked at Rubin. “You’re icy cool. It’s interesting to have both sensations at the same time on my bone.”

  It comforted her that Malichai was talking. He lay in the bed, his upper body propped up on pillows while his legs were stretched out in front of him. He had one arm around her and that didn’t move, as if he feared he would lose her if he let go of her.

  Amaryllis turned her face away from all of them. She just wanted to sleep. If she was able to get a little bit of time to sleep, then she could start again.

  “Need a half hour or so,” she murmured and turned her face into Malichai’s rib cage, closing her eyes. The light in the room was dim, but everything was beginning to hurt, especially her eyes, as if she’d burned them. One leg ached until the ache became a pain so intense, she thought she might have to scream. She just wanted a few minutes to sleep.

  Ezekiel picked up his coffee cup. “The magic shop has been deserted, which is no surprise. Nothing was left behind that was incriminating or a clue to what those people were up to, but clearly it isn’t good.”

  “They walked right in here and took Malichai. They could have come in and shot Amaryllis, Marie and Malichai,” Mordichai said, a bite to his voice. “But they took him with clear intentions to interrogate him.”

  There was no going to sleep now. Amaryllis wanted to hear every word. She couldn’t pry her eyes open, so she just lay against Malichai’s side and listened.

  “Who are they? You get anywhere with that?” Rubin asked.

  “Callendine is a lieutenant colonel in the Army. Major Roseland Salsberry worked with Callendine for several years and is very devoted to him, although they aren’t romantically involved. Mills is under Callendine’s command. Callendine, across the board, has commanded respect and admiration, both from his superiors and from his men. More than once I was told Callendine’s men would follow him anywhere, straight into the jaws of hell,” Ezekiel informed them.

  “What’s he doing here? Did I mess up an investigation of some kind?” Malichai asked. “Because even if I did, whatever they’re up to can’t be good.”

  Ezekiel put his coffee cup back on the small table and once more drummed his fingers. “No one seems to know what he’s doing here. He—and the major—are supposedly on extended leave along with a number of their trusted unit. Joe is looking into it. He’s discussing it with Major General.

  “I’ve gotten Marie to agree to bring Jacy to Louisiana. I don’t like any of this, and the two of them are civilians and in danger through no fault of their own,” Ezekiel continued. “Trap’s sent the jet back for our team, and Marie and Jacy can go back in his jet once they get here.”

  Malichai sent the man standing silently against the door a small smile. “Thanks, Trap.”

  Trap shrugged. “Wyatt’s got those five little girls. Too many for me to stay home and guard.” He sounded gruff.

  Amaryllis didn’t smile. She was beginning to believe that Trap wasn’t nearly as antisocial as he pretended to be—at least not with those he claimed as his family.

  “How close is Cayenne to giving birth?” Malichai asked Trap straight out.

  Trap shrugged. “You know Cayenne. She’ll give birth when she’s ready and not before. You’ll know soon enough.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She’ll be on that plane. She doesn’t like to be away from me, and she’s gotten so she doesn’t listen to a damn thing I say. Told her flying wasn’t good for her. She’s not showing at all so she thinks she can pretend she isn’t pregnant.”

  “I just don’t like the idea of her near combat when she’s so close,” Malichai said. “I have a bad feeling about this. If Callendine was telling the truth and orders came down for him to come here and carry out some mission, you and I both know someone at the White House wants to stamp out all GhostWalkers.”

  “They were here before you were. There’s no way for them to have guessed you’d be coming,” Ezekiel said. “This isn’t about you.”

  “Amaryllis was here and she’s a GhostWalker.”

  “You’re just worried on her behalf, Malichai. Believe me, I understand the feeling. They had no way of knowing Amaryllis is a GhostWalker.”

  Amaryllis felt warm—very happy—when Ezekiel acknowledged that she was the same as they were.
She’d never thought of herself as being a GhostWalker. She was part of the flawed group—a woman easily disposed of because she was so inferior. These men, elite soldiers, made her part of them with just a few words and the inclusive camaraderie she needed.

  “Speculation on Callendine?” Malichai said.

  “He is very committed to whatever his mission is, and so are his men,” Mordichai said immediately. “When they took off, they carried their dead. The only body we have is Mills.”

  Ezekiel shook his head. “We don’t have that either. Less than forty minutes ago, I got word that someone broke into the medical examiner’s office and took the body. We know who Mills is. We have a clear identification, so the why of taking such a risk eludes me.”

  “Callendine hired a hit man,” Malichai said. “Why would he do that? And what business did Mills have killing Anna and Bryon? This is so crazy.”

  Mordichai moved close to the bed, took Amaryllis’s pulse and then tried to nudge her to sit so he could give her more water.

  She tried to wave him away.

  “You need it. You’re badly dehydrated. Your lips are so cracked they’re bleeding. If you don’t drink this water, I’m hooking you up to an IV.”

  She didn’t like that idea. She tried to open her eyes. They burned, refusing to cooperate. When she tried to move her head, it pounded, lashing at her. Mordichai was right, she was dehydrated.

  “It’s a good idea anyway, Mordichai,” Malichai said. “No matter how much water you push into her that way, she’s never going to catch up.”

  “She’s awake,” Amaryllis muttered, trying not to sound rebellious. “I can drink water.”

  No one seemed to pay attention to her. Mordichai was fast and very efficient, finding her vein without doing much more than looking at her arm. She couldn’t summon up enough energy to protest. Malichai’s arm pulled her tighter against him, making her feel safe and secure, so she just settled beside him and continued listening.

 

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