Mind Game

by Christine Feehan

  She heard the pride in his voice. He cared about his home. "Tell me about the house."

  "It's a mixture of East and West. The Japanese design is very open and gives it a sense of tranquility. I feel peace when I'm there. I enjoy working with plants, and fortunately, the weather is mild enough that the gardens stay green nearly year round. You can hear the sound of water running in the creek, and we incorporated a small natural waterfall and pool into the gardens. I have beds of herbs and healing plants as well." He sent her a quick grin. "I was optimistic I'd learn to heal."

  They were close enough to the cabin that Dahlia could hear the sounds of the men's voices as they good-naturedly ribbed one another back and forth. She stopped on the worn trail to look up at Nicolas. The sun cast streaks of light through the midnight black hair and kissed his skin with bronze so that he seemed almost glowing to her. "I can picture you working in your garden. Funny that I never even considered it before. You told me about both of your grandfathers, but I think I was only seeing parts of you, not putting you together as a whole." She slipped her arms around his waist and tilted her head up to his. "I want you to kiss me again so I'm thinking about that when we see the others instead of the humiliation of setting Gator's house on fire."

  Nicolas didn't hesitate. He caught the back of her head in the palm of his hand and lowered his mouth to hers. Each time he kissed her the way she tasted, the melting of their bodies, always moved him so unexpectedly. He doubted if he would ever get used to the feel and taste of her. She had crawled inside of him and there was no way to get her out. He started out kissing her gently, tenderly, but in the end he was a starving man, craving more, kissing her over and over.

  "Hey!" Gator's voice drew them apart. "Nico, you get your hands off cha d'bebe and mind your manners."

  Dahlia drew away, her face coloring in spite of her resolve not to let them embarrass her further. She was definitely not Gator's sweet baby. The man could curl a woman's toes just with his smooth voice. And he knew it too.

  "I think your bebe made the first move," Sam called from the corner of the house. He had a saw in his hands and was grinning at them.

  Gator's hand went to his heart. "Say it's not true, ma cher cherie. You have not allowed this corrupter of women to tempt you, have you?"

  Dahlia raised her eyebrow and looked up at Nicolas. Nothing seemed to affect him, not being caught kissing her and certainly not their teasing. He looked as inscrutable and as composed as ever. "Do you corrupt women?"

  "That's Gator's department. The ladies always go for him. He has that bad boy look and the Cajun accent, and he speaks French and they all go wild."

  Dahlia leaned back against Nicolas, accepting the protection his body offered, not because she needed it, but because she sensed he did. Nicolas had no more experience in relationships than she did, and he was uncomfortable with the easy camaraderie the other GhostWalkers were attempting to establish with her. She realized he wasn't nearly as sure of himself and of her as he let on. "I can see that about Gator. He's smooth when he dishes out the bull, you know what I mean?" She winked up at Nicolas.

  Nicolas felt his heart do a curious somersault. Dahlia created an intimacy with him, a bond, and he knew she did it for him, not for her. He thought there was something remarkable about small, unexpected things when someone did them for him. He had been young when he lost his Lakota grandfather, and his Japanese grandfather had rarely been demonstrative, but Nicolas remembered the impact when he would do some small thing to show affection.

  He cleared his throat. "I know exactly what you mean."

  Gator threw back his head and laughed. "She's a good one, that woman. You hang onto her, Nico."

  "I intend to," Nicolas answered.

  "Gator," Dahlia gestured toward the cabin. "I'm sorry I set your house on fire. Things like that happen a lot around me."

  "A little fire is nothing to worry about, 'tite soeur. We fixed it right up." His grin turned mischievous. "I saw sparks in the air over by the old pond. I was most worried the two of you were having a bit of fight, but now I think it was something altogether different."

  Dahlia couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't just his outrageous behavior, but his easygoing attitude and charming accent. And he had referred to her as little sister. Part of her wanted to bask in that.

  Nicolas was obviously reading her thoughts. Gator is anything but easygoing in a fight, Dahlia. He's one of the best we have. All of them are. Never underestimate him.

  I wasn't worried. I just think he's . . . she hesitated, substituted, cute.

  Cute? You think he's cute? What's cute about him?

  She loved the teasing note in his voice. Nicolas was so much more relaxed around her now. They were actually reaching a point where they seemed to fit with one another. He could tease her about another man and the earlier jealousy didn't flare up. Well, yes. He's got that smile, that really bad boy smile, and a great backside.

  On page eighty of the relationship manual, it clearly states you cannot look at another man's backside, especially if you think it's great.

  Her laughter floated out over the bayou. Great tall herons flapped their wings and continued walking on their stilt-like legs through the reeds. Several frogs croaked, and both Kaden and Ian stuck their heads around the corner.

  Kaden gave her a little salute. "I'm glad to see you're feeling much better."

  "Much, thank you, although I'm a bit embarrassed that I set Gator's house on fire."

  "I told you there was no need to be upset, ma cher," Gator said. "We wouldn't want the men to be getting bored. I put them to work."

  "Still, I hate the loss of control," Dahlia said, determined to try to fit in with the GhostWalkers. If she was the same as they were, and they could understand the complications facing her and maybe find a way to make her life better, she was going to give it her all. "I've worked very hard for as long as I can remember and yet I'm still making childish mistakes. Part of it is my own temper."

  Nicolas ruffled her hair, wishing he could find the right words to say to comfort her. "You're too hard on yourself. We're all learning about this. Did you ever think one of the other missing girls might be out there somewhere alone, not knowing what happened to her? Maybe thinking she's insane? The more we find out what you can and can't do, the better it is for all of us. Experiments are risky and there are mistakes made, but they're necessary. You have to think of being around the GhostWalkers as an experiment. None of us would ever condemn a mistake."

  The men gaped at Nicolas. "That's the most I've heard him say in three years," Sam said. He turned to the others. "You ever hear him talk that much?"

  "I wasn't sure he could talk," Tucker Addison replied straight-faced.

  "He talks," Dahlia said defensively.

  "Beggin your pardon, ma'am, but he's just plain antisocial," Sam pointed out. "Always has been, always will be."

  Dahlia lifted her face to the breeze, inhaling deeply. "Why is it so much easier? Is it because I'm outdoors? What are you all doing differently?"

  "We're capable of keeping our own emotions in check, Dahlia," Kaden said. "We talked it over and decided that was the best course of action for your comfort when you're around us."

  Unexpectedly she felt tears burn behind her eyes and she slipped her hand into her pocket to feel the familiar comfort of the amethyst spheres. "Thank you. It's amazing that all of you can keep a barrier up around your emotions. None of you are going to suffer any ill effects are you? I'm well aware the use of talent can sometimes be painful."

  "No, it just requires a little discipline," Gator said. "Some of us have it naturally, but Tucker there, he's working on it."

  The men grinned at Tucker. Tucker's one of the most patient and calm on the GhostWalker team. Nothing riles him. He used to work on the antiterrorist team before he came to us and he's as steady as a rock, Nicolas supplied via their mental connection.

  "Can you teach me the same thing?"

  "Sure." Kaden spoke again
. "Lily has us all do mental exercises every day, just like weight lifters. It's stopped most of the side effects, although the first few weeks were difficult. Now we just do them automatically. It keeps us sharp for the work we do."

  Dahlia walked with Nicolas around the cabin to the front entrance where a new door and frame were already in place. "Do all of you have different psychic abilities?" It was much easier dealing with the men now that they were doing their best to barricade all emotions, sparing her another bombardment of energy.

  "We share various talents," Sam said, "although each of us has several and some unique only to us. For instance, Gator comes in right handy when guard dogs come running at us. He can get wild animals to turn into pets."

  Dahlia turned her head to look at Gator, who was draped against the wall looking sexy in his open shirt with his white teeth flashing and his dark hair spilling across his forehead.

  Gator grinned at her. "I'm reading your thoughts, ma cher cherie."

  Nicolas pulled a knife out of his boot and studied the long blade. "She isn't your anything, swamp man." His voice was as cold as ice, but Dahlia dealt in energy and to her relief, Nicolas was definitely amused.

  "That be the jealousy talking," Gator said, in no way perturbed. "I can't help the way the women love me. I was born with the gift."

  The men hooted and made rude noises. "You were born with a gift of bullshitting," Sam pointed out, "but that's about it." He looked at Dahlia. "Pardon me, ma'am, but it's the truth."

  "I rather thought it was," she agreed.

  Another roar of laughter went up. Gator clasped both hands over his heart. "Tu m'a casser le coeur, j'va jamais."

  Dahlia smirked. "I didn't break your heart, Gator, and if I did, I'm certain you'll recover from the blow."

  He grinned. "But French has a music all it's own. D'accord? "

  Gator could definitely melt hearts with that grin. "D'accord," she conceded.

  "Quit flirting, Gator," Tucker said. "You're riling up Nico. You mess with the wrong end of the crocodile and you're going to get teeth."

  "He doesn't look too riled to me," Gator answered. "He looks like he's fallen into a deep dark well and there's no bottom in sight."

  Another roar of laughter went up. Dahlia found she was actually enjoying herself. It was a momentous moment, one she'd always remember. She was in the midst of several people for the first time in her life, laughing and conversing, and the energy hadn't swamped her. If it never happened again, she would always be grateful to the GhostWalkers for giving her this time. "It's such an amazing gift you've all given me," she said. "I've never done this before. Just had a conversation with a group of people."

  "Better you picked us than anyone else," Gator teased. "We're all good-looking, 'cept old stone-faced Nico there. Why trouble yourself with anybody else?"

  "I don't suppose you cook?" Tucker inquired hopefully.

  "Did you think because she can start fires she'd be great with a grill?" Gator asked.

  Dahlia tried not to let the color sweep up into her face, wanting to enjoy the camaraderie they were offering her. They teased and razzed one another and now extended it to her. She couldn't object over the subject matter, as sensitive as she felt over it. She'd have to get over it around them.

  "The thought occurred to me," Tucker admitted. "I'm starving. Gator, didn't you stash us some genuine food?"

  "That wasn't my job. I'm not the supply person," Gator denied. "I found shelter for us, isn't that enough?"

  Dahlia glanced up at Nicolas. He reached out and took her hand. "Don't mind them, they'll find something to eat. Besides, Gator never goes anywhere without food."

  "If he didn't this time, Gator's going to be alligator hunting," Sam said. "I've heard they're good to eat."

  Dahlia shook her head. "I'm not eating an alligator. I was raised with them. It would be like eating the family dog."

  "They are the family dogs," Gator said, glaring at Sam. "You keep your hands off my gators. They've been in the family for years. If you're all that hungry, go pick a few shrubs. There's edible weeds on this island, you're just too lazy to find them."

  "Can you talk to the alligators?" Dahlia asked. It suddenly occurred to her how astonishing that would be.

  "I don't exactly talk to them," Gator explained. "It's more like directing them. It's easier with dogs or cats, but I've tried it with reptiles. Alligators are fairly difficult, but I've gotten them to move away from an area they wanted to stay in. I don't think it's useful because it would take me too long to get them to obey me. If we were in a firefight, we'd be moving too fast."

  "A lot of what we can do is easier and faster if we're all together," Kaden explained. "We all have talents, but we seem to become stronger when we're together, which is why, when we go on a mission, we generally go in small units."

  "I've always worked alone. If I had a partner and he or she became frightened, or excited or was injured, I wouldn't be able to function properly," Dahlia said and looked up at Nicolas to make certain he understood what she was saying.

  He frowned at her. "You're functioning with no problems right now," he pointed out.

  "True, I am," Dahlia said, "but some of you are having trouble keeping emotions and thoughts in check. It isn't natural to do it for long periods of time."

  "We do just fine together," Nicolas said.

  Dahlia rolled her eyes. This is exactly why I don't have a partner. I'm the one who has to guard my emotions when people act idiotic. I can't take it, Nicolas. It's just plain silly to get all chest pounding on me.

  I was stating a fact.

  No, you weren't, you were giving me one of your mini lectures.

  "I don't give lectures," Nicolas said aloud.

  "What about Jesse Calhoun," Kaden interrupted quietly. "Did you do much work with him? Did he ever go out with you on a mission?"

  It seemed a casual enough question, but Dahlia instantly felt the shift. Tension went up just a notch, and everyone was suddenly paying close attention, waiting for her answer. "We worked together. He was always the handler, sending me in. I only had contact with him when it came to my missions, but he never accompanied me, it didn't work that way." She chose her words carefully, searching the energy for a sign of where the sudden change of subject was heading.

  "Nicolas mentioned that Jesse Calhoun is a GhostWalker. Is that true?"

  Dahlia nodded her head slowly. "He's definitely an anchor and a strong telepath. He's an ex SEAL and a very good agent. He can track almost anything."

  "How does this whole thing work with you and the NCIS? Do you do investigative work for them?" Kaden continued.

  Dahlia's fingers curled around the amethyst spheres in her pocket. "No, I'm strictly recovery. Jesse does investigations."

  "Who else?"

  She shrugged. "Todd Aikens. He's a SEAL as well. He and Jesse are very close. Martin Howard, he works with both Todd and Jesse sometimes, and there's Neil Campbell. They're all friends. I've not met them, just heard Jesse talk about them. I've heard him mention a couple of other names as well."

  "How many others? Are they like Jesse?"

  "I told you, I don't know. I just know of them. I've never worked with them." She was beginning to feel as if she were being interrogated.

  "Would any of them know you were going into recover the data?" Kaden asked.

  "Only Jesse as far as I know. Well, his boss would know, and maybe Louise, the secretary. I mean she'd guess. If Jesse's called in and asked to do an investigation and then I'm called in it would be obvious they're using me for something to do with the investigation, I'd think. And I only do recovery."

  "By boss, you're referring to Frank Henderson?" Respect crept into Kaden's voice. Henderson was a legend in the military.

  "Yes, he heads up the NCIS. Nothing happens without his knowledge. He's very hands-on with the investigations and he wants up-to-the-minute reports. He runs a tight ship."

  "How do you pass the data to Calhoun?" Kaden persisted.


  "I recover, drop it in a safe zone, and tell him in person where it is. He goes and gets it and takes it back to the NCIS."

  "Have you checked in to the office at all?"

  She shook her head. "I figure someone there has to be selling information. I walked into a trap. And they knew where I lived. And they knew about the safe house in the Quarter. That could only have come from the NCIS office. The computers are regularly gone over by the techs, so I doubt if someone could have found me through all the security that way."

  "And someone took a shot at her," Nicolas added.

  "Call them now," Kaden advised. "Talk only to Henderson. Tell him you think there's a rat and that's why Calhoun was taken to a safe location and is under guard. Tell him you want to bring the data in, but you don't trust anyone. He'll set up a meeting to do the exchange, and we'll be there to protect you."

  She shook her head. "It's too risky. He could get killed."

  "You don't think he's the traitor?"

  "Not for a minute. I don't have a single doubt about him. Have you ever met him?" Dahlia's voice was fierce. "He loves his country. He's served it all his life. He would never, under any circumstances betray it or his men. He has a code of honor he lives by and he's as solid as they come."

  "You like him."

  "I've grown to respect him." She glanced apologetically at Nicolas. "He talked me into working for the NCIS when I was just a kid. I'm not going to use him as bait to bring out the traitor. Besides, he'll expect the data, and I don't have it yet."

  "What did you just say?" Nicolas's voice was very quiet and sent a shiver of alarm down her spine.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Dahlia shrugged her shoulders, striving to appear nonchalant. "That data still has to be recovered."

  There was a small silence. The GhostWalkers exchanged long looks. "I thought you'd already recovered the research," Nicolas said. "Why would these people be coming after you if they still had it?"