Murder Game

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kadan woke with his arms filled with warmth, and the scent of cinnamon and sin surrounding him. His body throbbed with a monster of a hard-on, his cock full to the point of pain as he lay curved around Tansy. He kept very still, breathing through need, disgusted that he could be dripping like a rutting animal, hot and thick, pressed so tight against the soft tempting curve of her bottom, when she was still reeling in shock from the devastating revelations of her father's betrayal.

What was wrong with him that he couldn't give her the comfort she needed? He pushed his forehead against the back of her silky head, for the first time in his life really wishing he was different. He'd never cared before. It had never mattered to him to articulate his thoughts and feelings to another human being. He had no family or home, and he'd never believed he would either. And now here she was, soft and warm and smelling of heaven, feeling like paradise against his body, and all he could think about was riding her for hours, instead of finding the right words to comfort her, the right way to hold her, without seeming like all he really wanted was a fast, hard ride.

Sometime in the night he had wrapped his arms around her, his hands cupping her breasts so her nipples pushed into the center of his palms and the soft weight of her lay in invitation. He realized he was rocking his hips gently against her, rubbing his shaft along her buttocks, and he forced himself to stop, breathing deeply to stay in control. Cursing under his breath, he pulled his arms free and rolled away from her. With his groin so full and aching, it was a kind of torment to sit on the edge of the bed and just breathe her in.

He felt her move, felt her awareness, heard the small hitch in her breath as she woke. He didn't look at her, because if he had, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from sliding her body under his. Instead, he padded to the bathroom on bare feet and took a long, cold shower that didn't seem to do anything but make him more uncomfortable.

His jeans seemed tighter than usual and his body didn't want to cooperate; there was no comfortable place to tuck his hard shaft, but he did his best. Tansy was already up and in the other bathroom, obviously taking a bath. He could smell the fragrance wafting out from behind the half-open door and hear the splash of water as she bathed. He closed his eyes, trying not to see an image of her nude, rising up out of the water, long hair flowing around her like a silvery waterfall.

He stalked into the kitchen and put on coffee, trying to keep his imagination from running wild, thinking about the water beading on her skin and where it might be running. And what the hell had he ever thought about before she came into his life? He used to have a brain; now all he thought about was sex.

He tapped his foot, determined not to go look at her. All that soft skin. The silky hair. Her enormous eyes. Mouth to die for-a mouth made for sin. He found himself at the bathroom door, nudging it open with his foot. He stuck his head in and lost his breath. She was rising up out of the tub, wrapping her hair in a towel. She looked at him, not even making an attempt to cover up, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"Uh. Breakfast." His voice sounded rusty. "I figured you'd be hungry. What would you like to eat?" Because he'd like to eat her. Or have her eat him. Hell. He was losing it. He had to solve a murder, not turn into a teenage walking hard-on.

"Oh, that sounds great. I'm really hungry." She bent over to pick up the folded towel resting on the vanity, her breasts spilling forward. Small beads of water ran down the soft curves and dripped from her nipples to the floor.

Kadan licked his lips. There seemed to be a strange roaring in his head, and if he didn't adjust his jeans soon, the seams were going to burst. "Egg preference?"

She straightened and shook out the towel. Tiny droplets of water traveled down the valley between her breasts, across her tempting belly, to find the vee of white gold curls at the junction of her legs. He caught himself staring, wanting to drop to his knees and sink his tongue in her. She seemed oblivious, running the towel along the curves of her body, soaking up the tiny water drops.

"Anything is fine, but I really like scrambled."

"Scrambled it is, then."

Kadan left her because she had a small, sexy smile on her face, and was barely rubbing the towel over her skin, and he was going to ruin a good pair of jeans and embarrass himself. He stomped down the hall back to the kitchen, wishing he smoked. He slammed a frying pan onto the stove, muttering to himself. His radar went off and he spun around.

Tansy stood in the doorway, the towel in her hand, the other wrapped around her hair and nothing else. "Have I upset you?"

Kadan shook his head, keeping his gaze on her face, willing his wayward eyes to focus. Unfortunately they focused on her mouth, which did little to help his situation. "Of course not. I'm just feeling a little out of sorts."

"I don't mind cooking. I need you to put the game pieces back on the table for me anyway. I'm not a great cook, but I manage."

Naked. She was going to cook for him without a stitch of clothing on. He wouldn't survive. "Like that?" Now his voice had dropped to pure smoke.

Tansy looked startled. She glanced down at herself. "No, of course not. I was planning on getting dressed first." She turned and stormed off, her shoulders stiff.

Now he'd really upset her, and all he could think about was the sway of her ass as she stomped down the hall. Relationships were complicated when they really shouldn't be. He sighed again and went down to the war room. He may as well set up the pieces before cooking. He needed to get his head straight, and walking into a room with so many victims screaming for justice had a way of reducing everything else to nothing. He might not be good with women, but he knew how to track killers.

She joined him when he'd finished separating the small figurines, using his gloves to ensure no prints or impressions of him transferred to a game piece. She came up behind him, so close he could feel the heat of her body. She smelled so good he wanted to breathe her in.

"I may as well finish the East Coast pieces. I've only got one left."

"Not yet. You need to eat something. Come have your coffee while I cook you some breakfast." He captured her fingers and tugged, taking her with him, wanting to put off the inevitable as long as possible.

She went with him without protest, making him feel a little better. Nothing had ever rocked his world or gotten under his skin until Tansy. Feeling shaken was a new experience for him. He pulled out her chair, brushing a kiss on top of her head. For the first time she sent him a real smile, one that lit her eyes, and he breathed again. When she was settled with a cup of coffee in her hands, he broke the eggs and began beating them into a frothy brew.

"How does your job work?" Kadan asked. "Did National Geographic hire you to take pictures for them?"

She shook her head. "I do freelance work. In this case, they picked up an article and photographs I did for them last year and loved it, knew I was still studying the cougar, and agreed in advance to help fund me. I was pretty thrilled. I had a great tutor in photography, and I've slowly been acquiring a reputation, but this was a huge break for me. But no, technically, they don't employ me."

"Who knew you were up in the Sierras?" Kadan asked. Now that his brain was working again, something was nagging at the back of his mind.

She took a sip of coffee and frowned at him over the cup. "My parents knew. And Charlie, at National Geographic. Well, he didn't know where I was exactly, only that I was filming mountain lions." She put down the coffee mug and leaned her chin into her palm. "How did you track me to the Sierras? I mean, it's a big mountain range. How did you know I was at that exact location?"

"There was no way you were going to go anywhere without contacting your parents. Everything I read about you told me you wouldn't go more than a few days without letting them know you were okay, even if you were in Africa somewhere shooting pictures."

Tansy swept her hair back from her face. "So you just waited until I called home and traced the signal back to me."

He shrugged. "It was easy enough. But no one else was watching your parents. I would have known."

"Why is it important?"

"Your father said something to me that just keeps nagging at me." He put the eggs in front of her and placed the other dish across from her. He sank down across the table from her and picked up his fork. "For just a moment let's set aside the killers we're tracking. They can't know I was sent to find you. But someone knew where you were, and I don't think they followed me."

"Why? You can make mistakes," she teased.

He forked eggs into his mouth, frowning as he chewed. "Not like that. I thought, at first, that they were after me, they were there to get you. To kill you. They weren't going to bring you back to Whitney."

She sat up straighten "I thought they were men Whitney sent to get me, or someone who wanted you dead because of this investigation."

"I imagine a lot of people would like to see me dead, but as far as I know, only the general asked me to clear up this murder mess. Everyone else thinks I'm involved in a different type of mission. So no, the killers weren't there to stop me, they had to be there to kill you and I just happened to be in their way."

"Who would want me dead beside Whitney?"

"Whitney doesn't want you dead, honey, he wants babies out of you. And if I'd been thinking with my head and not my cock, I would have realized that immediately. He wants a baby out of us. You might not have been paired with me, but I was definitely paired with you. He wants our two talents bred into a child."

She swallowed hard. "That's sick, Kadan. What if I do get pregnant?"

He laid his hand over hers. "He'll never take our child. We're building a fortress in the mountains. We'll have escape tunnels and routes and protections, so much so that it will be difficult for anyone to get to us. You'd be safe there and so would our child."

His tone was the same as always, that low, velvet conviction that made her a believer. "So if the murderers we're tracking didn't know you were investigating them and Whitney doesn't want me dead, who does?"

"Your father mentioned a coalition, a group that has formed. We've run into them before, and we thought we'd broken them up when we killed their leader. Evidently he wasn't the only head of the organization. They have a lot of help. Someone in the White House who has access to a high security clearance has been targeting the GhostWalkers for death. They leaked the information that the East Coast and West Coast murders were connected, and they gave a reporter your name. He did a little investigating and realized you were the same Tansy Meadows who had tracked serial killers. The moment he found you, the assassins were on your trail."

"But how did he find me?"

"That's what I want to know. Did whoever tip him off give him that information as well? And if so, how did they come by it?"

Tansy ran both hands through her hair. "I don't have any idea, Kadan, and truthfully, I just can't find it in me to care that much. I want to solve these murders and get the killers off the streets. All the rest of it will just have to take a backseat until we figure out what's going on."

Kadan glanced at her half-eaten eggs. "You didn't eat much."

"It's enough to get me through this. I'm going to do this one right this time."

He took both plates to the sink and left them there, turning to lock his gaze with hers. "You'll do what I say, Tansy. It's my job to keep you safe-and sane. Wear the gloves. If they have to come off, fine, we'll cross that bridge when we need to, but start off with the gloves and see what kinds of impressions you get."

"You're handicapping me."

"I don't really give a damn, now, do I?"

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Tansy shook her head. "We're never going to find them if you don't let me do my job."

He refused to argue with her. He simply followed her down the hall and picked up the gloves, shoving them into her hands.

Tansy pulled on the protective gloves and stood at the table, peering down at the ivory game pieces. She'd already felt the surges of energy, some much more potent than others, and now that she was tuned, the collective pieces gave off a frightening vortex of energy, whirling into one violent mass. Even with the gloves covering her skin, the violence was tangible as she leveled her palm over the top of the last ivory piece from the East Coast.

Without actually touching it, Tansy studied the intricately detailed knife. The blade was sharp and had tiny notches in it. She frowned. Ordinarily she would think the notches might be imperfections, but the carver was too good and had too big of an ego to let anything he worked on be less than perfect.

"The puppet master believes he's smarter than everyone else and he wants them to see him without really seeing. He wants his genius to be in front of them, easy to read, but not to really 'get' it. That way, he can gloat and prove to himself over and over that he's superior, even to enhanced psychics."

"Is he enhanced?"

She drew a breath, allowing her palms to be so close only a piece of paper could separate her from the game piece. The surge of energy was potent and filled with violence. The one she had dubbed "Blade" was definitely a dominant. She wondered what Kadan's energy would feel like if he wasn't shielding her. She imagined it would be something like this. Waves of force, relentless and sure. Blade had to be the East Coast team leader of the game. She didn't want to read him right now; she was trying to get a feel for the puppet master.

"I can't tell. Not like this. His energy is very subtle, but I think he weaves it that way."

Tansy concentrated on the ego, the biggest part of him. The man was fastidious; she had the impression of someone who was very conscious of his clothes and style. He wanted to look well groomed, a GQ man. He wanted to appear cool and sophisticated without drawing attention to himself. He had money… She pulled her hands away abruptly, another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

"This is about money."

Kadan frowned. She was already pale, the drain on her tremendous, and they'd barely gotten started. He could feel the energy in her mind, dark and violent, swirling with edges of red, but she hadn't immersed herself in it at all. "What's about money, Tansy?" Sometimes he thought she put herself in a trance, her eyes opaque and distant, gleaming with that violet silver shine.

"The murder game. It's all about money. That's your connection."

He shook his head. "I looked into insurance payoffs. A few of them had insurance. One or two left a hefty inheritance for a family member, but the majority don't have enough money attached to raise a flag."

"The two boys. The ones Frog killed. Did they have insurance on them?" Tansy sank into a chair because her legs felt rubbery.

"Why question that particular murder?"

"There couldn't be another motive. Who would want to kill two high school boys who were smart, weren't robbed, and probably had never done anything to anyone in their lives? I got the impression from them that they had barely started their lives. They were shocked. Frog didn't want to kill them; in fact, he was upset with the puppet master and the others on his team and the other team. Really upset. He asked forgiveness and even went so far as promising revenge. He didn't want to kill them, yet he chose those two boys. They weren't random victims. You're going on the assumption that each of these murders was random, but Frog's murder wasn't. He had to fulfill some contract…" She broke off and looked up at him in shock. "Contract murders? Could this game be about paid hits?"

Kadan automatically shook his head. How could that be? A game? But even as he was denying the possibility, her reasoning somehow fit. Her mind worked differently, taking pieces, discarding them, and trying them in ways no one else might think of. Another gift. A talent she didn't recognize.

"Don't touch anything until I get back." He didn't want to leave her, not when information was pouring into her mind, and he was afraid she might grasp the game piece now that she had a trail to follow. "I mean it, Tansy, wait for me."

Tansy found it difficult to resist the lure of the ivory blade. The notches meant something to either the carver or the owner of the piece. Which was it? Her mind refused to stop racing for more details. Once she was on the scent, she found it nearly impossible to focus on anything else, and the energy of both men was much more potent in this piece.

"Tansy," Kadan's voice was sharp. "I said no."

He caught her wrist, the sound of his palm hitting her arm loud in the silence of the room. She blinked up at him, a little distracted by his presence.

"I need to…"

"No." He kept possession of her hand. "I went to check on the file in the war room. The boys were half brothers and the insurance on them was heavy for kids that age. Mother inherits. She'd only recently remarried. Boys had different fathers, and the third husband seems to have gotten along with the boys and was broken up other the whole thing."

"Did you interview them?"

He shook his head. "I haven't had the chance. I got my orders, read everything, and knew I needed you, so I went looking for you."

"But either the mother or the stepfather could have hired someone to kill the boys." Tansy made it a statement, but she was frowning, shaking her head. "Something is just a little off kilter, Kadan. I need to get stronger impressions. I need to actually handle it."

"With gloves."

"I won't get what we want. You said we'd have to solve this fast. I know your friends didn't do this, but whoever wants all of you dead is going to use the murders as an opportunity to get rid of them. By the time the real murderers are found, it will be too late."

He didn't want her pulling off the gloves. She'd be annihilated by the violent energy. He could feel waves pushing at her mind, and she merely had her hands close to the game piece.

"We need to know."

He pulled her off the chair and sat down. "Sit on my lap."

"Kadan." It was a protest. She frowned at him, pushing at the long blond hair falling around her face. "What are you doing?"

"Protecting you. Sit on me. I'm going to keep my arms around you, my hands on your wrists. If I tell you to drop that thing and you don't, I'll be in a better position to force it out of your hand. We both know this is dangerous to you."

"I don't know if I can concentrate like that."

Kadan shrugged. "Take it or leave it, but you aren't touching that thing without me surrounding you with as much protection as I can give you."

He had that tone again. Tansy sighed. There was no moving him from his position when he used that tone. Very slowly, breathing deep, she removed the protective barrier of the gloves. She sank down onto his lap and his arms immediately circled her, his hands resting lightly over hers, which gave her added confidence.

She cupped her bare hands around the ivory knife. The energy swarmed to her, violent, almost angry. Smug. Superior. Oily sludge poured into her brain, dripping with blood, with the need for more blood. Beneath the muck, hidden, she found that small vein that ran under, nearly overwhelmed with the dominant strand, but flowing subtly, a monster at work behind the scenes.

She took a breath and worked at separating the two threads. Blade needed followers, needed them to see him dominate every situation. He looked for fights. Wanted others to argue so he could hurt and frighten them in front of others. He was cruel to his girlfriends and those who loved him, usually subtle cruelties, but he enjoyed the pain in their eyes-and the fear. Ridiculing others and making them look small in front of his friends was a favorite pastime.

Distaste. Smug satisfaction that someday… She almost had the puppet master, but Blade wouldn't give up the spotlight. Something important eluded her as it moved by. She couldn't focus properly because the violence in Blade was his primary characteristic.

More oily sludge coated her mind as he pushed deeper into her brain, determined to imprint himself there when she was really looking for the more subtle thread. Looking big mattered to him, almost more than anything else. He despised having to salute. He wanted to take out some of the officers and their families. He fantasized about it all the time.

The son of a bitch who wrote him up for beating the crap out of the stupid private that dared to contradict him. Yeah, he wanted to show Officer Showoff just who really was in charge. Damn the rules of the game. He'd agreed to them, but no one would know if he spent a few hours carving Mr. Officer up. Of course, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun if the others didn't know what he was doing.

Another voice began to rise, one she couldn't push down. A woman, pleading. Begging. Stirring Blade to further action.

He loved the begging. The victim had no idea she was rousing him to further acts of torture for his own pleasure, and Tansy had no way of warning her.

Shut up bitch. Stop sniveling. Whiny, stupid bitch. Of course I'm going to kill you. I'm going to gut you and leave you hanging on a meat hook in the cooler. What did you think I wanted with you? Your fancy jewelry? Your grotesque body? No, I want you dead. But don't worry, you'll be like one of those fine fat pigs your family slaughters and butchers; I'll leave you hanging there for the world to see. Or maybe your husband will carve you up and sell you to the markets to make a few extra bucks.

Blade laughed, the sound wholly evil, and Tansy's stomach lurched. She would have problems getting his vile imprint out of her head. The stain was thick and intrusive, coating the walls of her mind and finding every niche and crack, until it seeped beneath the door where the other voices wailed to be let loose.

Look for the other one, Kadan murmured, his voice a breath of fresh air, like a cool breeze running through her brain.

Tansy made an effort to push the evil Blade to the back of her mind, ignoring his insistence on sharing his handiwork with her. His voice receded a bit, allowing her to find the lighter tracks buried beneath his thick, oily presence. The puppet master. There he was. She had to be careful, very cautious not to alert him to her presence. She tried to keep her touch light, but she'd never had to worry about her own back trail before when she tracked.

She drew another deep breath into her lungs, fighting to keep her stomach from churning. She leaned against Kadan and drew his masculine scent into her lungs. For a moment her world righted again, as she breathed him in, the clean outdoor spice of him. Blade receded a bit more, his voice dimming, and she seized the thread that was the puppet muster.

The impressions she received from objects such as this one often seemed like a giant spiderweb, thread after thread wrapped intricately around one another until the killer and victim were bound together and it was difficult to tell the threads apart. The puppet master had carved the game pieces, leaving a great deal of himself in the ivory long before he'd given them to the players and he'd left his own threads. They were light and subtle, but they permeated the entire web.

In all the years she'd tracked killers, none of the threads had been attached to a mind. There was no way to backtrack and find them; she had to piece together information until she received a large enough picture to get the killer. She wasn't certain how the puppet master was still attached, but he had found her particular thread and backtracked. She had to be very careful to step lightly and cause no vibration of her own to warn him she was seeking him again.

She allowed the killer and his victim to wail and gnash around her, as she waded through the blood and gore to examine each thread until she found the strongest impression of the puppet master. She matched the flow in her mind to that subtle energy, taking care that there was no signal as she examined it. Yeah. He was there all right. She just couldn't quite get him. Without hesitation, she closed that breath of a gap between her skin and ivory.

Heat seared her palms. The screams of the victim nearly shattered her. The killer was so strong she had the impression of him bursting through the door, his mouth stretched into a grin, his face shadowy, but there was no facial hair and no mask. The woman fell backward, trying to crawl away as he loomed over her. Tansy jerked herself away from the sight, trying not to hear or see, but looking for the shiny radial that formed the support of the web. It was several strands thick, the shiny primary thread, from the handling and carving of the knife.

The notches were made with care, each one exact and polished as per request. Idiot smug bastard wants the world to see how scary he is, but he's a child wanting attention, wanting to be feared when he should be hiding. They'll catch this one first, openly showing his kills on his game piece. And he'll turn on his friends because he really isn't so tough. He doesn't like women, but he despises men, mostly because he's afraid of their strength.

Tansy breathed away the thoughts the puppet master had while carving. Her fingers stroked over the blade, trying to pick up the puppet master's essence, not his thoughts on the killer. A desk. He sat at a desk, stacks of paper all around him. She had the impression of movement, as though others flowed around his desk or were near it. The sound of muted voices. A telephone ringing. She caught a glimpse of a leg clad in a uniform. A military base. He had to work at a military base.

She breathed through her mouth, trying to keep from smelling the blood that thickened around her mind as she concentrated on her prey. The killer wanted to show off, terrifying the woman deliberately. Tansy shook her head, trying to rid herself of his evil nature. There was no conflict in him, only an eagerness to appear larger and more terrifying than anyone else. He wanted the world to fear him, thinking that would get him the respect he deserved.

She shivered, pushing the killer away from her to grab at the anchoring thread. The puppet master, so the opposite of the killer. He wanted no fame or recognition. He pulled the strings and made the others dance. If they were caught, he could walk away, no ties whatsoever to the killings. His concept, his hand-picked killers, and no one knew, not even Whitney. His bank account grew and the homicidal maniacs had their fun. It was all a nice little game any way you looked at it.

Tansy held her breath. He sat at a desk, his clothes impeccable, even the pleat of his trousers exact. He had a strong physique, took good care of himself. His hair was trimmed short and he wore glasses, which made him look distinguished, but not handsome. He had to take care with his image that no one focused on his appearance one way or the other.

"Drop it, baby," Kadan hissed, alarmed. "You're too close." His hands closed hard over hers, prying at her fingers to release the ivory knife.

She could almost smell the puppet master. The sounds of his world crowded in, and if she could just catch that elusive scent. It smelled like…

Cinnamon.

"Shit! Damn it, he's found you." Kadan dragged her up, knocking her hand against the table in an effort to dislodge the game piece. Her eyes had gone all the way opaque. She was deep in a trance, caught in another world.

The puppet master turned his head, removing his glasses as he did so. She found herself staring at pale blue eyes. Shiny eyes.

Hello, beautiful. You took the bait and came to visit me again. I'm delighted to meet you. He held up a file with her name on it. I've been reading about you. Such a gorgeous girl. Too bad you let those sick bastards get to you. Are you feeling better now? The voice was pitched low, solicitous. He believed he was stronger than she was, that he could control her too.

Kadan popped open the tin of Altoids Gator had tossed onto the front seat of the car, and he shoved one into his mouth. He caught Tansy's chin and ruthlessly brought his mouth down on hers, his tongue demanding entry, sweeping inside to claim her. She was lost in the labyrinth of a spider's web, and he needed something stronger to bring her out. The only thing he could think of was him and the way he showed love. Feeling desperate, he kissed her, pouring everything he was into that kiss. His personality, such that it was, dominant and controlling, ruthless and dangerous, protective and loving her with every fiber of his being. He shared the taste of cinnamon, the wild call between them. You belong to me. He can't have you. It was a command, hard and firm, demanding absolute obedience. Come to me now.

No! You fuck. She's mine. The puppet master screamed the words in Tansy's mind, trying to hold her to him, his web of threads wrapping her up in a cocoon.

Tansy tasted cinnamon and heard the demand in Kadan's voice. There was no way to defy him or ignore him. This was Kadan at his most dominating, his tone promising swift retaliation if she didn't listen. She shivered and reached for him. The moment she did, the sticky hold on her loosened. She felt Kadan's strength yanking her to him, his mouth hard and aggressive. Then she felt his hands on her, the force of the blow against the table.

Drop it now, baby. Drop that fucking thing now.

Don't you dare! The puppet master lost his smooth edge and snapped his own command, two dominants determined to control her.

No matter how rough his hands, how hard his voice, Kadan's mouth was tender, loving her. Craving her. Needing her. Nothing else mattered. She became aware of the ivory piece digging into her palm, the cries of the victim, the killer mocking the woman as he gutted and lifted her, still alive, to the meat hook overhead. She heard the insidious whisper of the puppet master, calling to her. And then Kadan flooded her mind, filled her with-him.

Strong arms. Broad shoulders. Heavily muscled chest. The scent of the outdoors and danger. His mouth, sensual or cruel. His eyes filled with love and desire. She leapt, throwing herself to him, giving him everything she was, turning her back on everything else in her life until there was only Kadan, trusting him to catch her.

Kadan watched the ivory piece fall to the table as he wrapped his arms around Tansy, preventing her limp body from hitting the floor. Blood leaked from her ears, mouth, and nose. He'd expected that, but not from her eyes. She was hemorrhaging internally and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Hell, he'd probably broken her hand trying to break the seal of the tracker. He could see it was already swelling and turning color. Her palm was imprinted with the blade, the details etched into her skin.

He lifted her, cradling her high against his chest, detesting that he had been the one to bring her back to this life. Nearly running, he took her through the house to the bedroom they shared, placing her carefully on the bed.

"Tansy. Wake up, baby. I'm afraid to let you sleep." He didn't know how powerful the elite tracker was, or even if he could find her like this, but the voices were still trapped in her mind and that meant there was every chance the puppet master was there as well. "Come on, honey, open your eyes for me."

Kadan soaked a washcloth and wiped the trickling blood from her face and ears. He had the pills for her headache as well as a glass of water. This was going to be a bad one. She was shivering continually and when he touched her mind, he found chaos instead of awareness.

"All right, baby. It's going to be all right." He said it more to comfort himself than her. He sank down onto the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms, wanting to surround her, wanting her to breathe him into her body. He rocked her gently. "Wake up for me. Open your eyes."

She remained limp, although tremors rippled through her body repeatedly. He lifted her swollen hand, examining it carefully to see if any of the bones were broken. Ordinarily he could open her hand easily, but when she was in her hypnotic tracking state, her pressure points didn't react as readily as he would like. If they continued, he would have to figure out some way get rid of the object she was reading without injuring her.

He turned her hand over and opened her fingers to examine her palm. The details of the knife were pressed deep, but there was no burn, just the imprint as if she'd been holding it so hard her skin had picked up the impressions-and he didn't want them there. Kadan used the pad of his thumb to rub gentle caresses back and forth over the knife etched into her palm. The bristles were hard, but velvet soft, and he was careful to keep the sticky side from touching her skin, wanting only to soothe her.

Something moved in her mind and she winced, but he was there first, standing guard, standing in front of her. He would have to insist she do more exercises to strengthen her barriers, especially now, with the puppet master actively hunting her. Their enemy knew who she was. And he would have the details of her life, including the names and address of her parents. Fortunately Don and Sharon Meadows were under guard, but the man might try to find them, using his military contacts.

Tansy stirred, the heavy fringe of lashes fluttering. Her stomach lurched and her muscles tightened beneath his hand. Blood trickled from her nose again and she shuddered. "My head." She mouthed the words rather than spoke them aloud.

"I've got your medicine right here." He held the pills to her lips and then, half sitting her up against his chest, held the water for her.

Tansy swallowed with her eyes closed tight. "It hurts worse this time and it's growing stronger. I'm in for a bad one. Will you make certain the drapes are closed and there's no light in here?"

"Is it safe?" He didn't want the puppet master visiting her in her sleep. Was it even possible? He doubted if she knew, but it worried him.

She was shaking and turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see her so sick and vulnerable. She was afraid to be alone with the voices in her head, afraid if he left her he'd take his shield with him, but she didn't ask him to stay.

He leaned close to her, his lips against her ear. "You don't have to ask me to stay, Tansy. I'll always be here." He stretched out beside her and pulled her close, pillowing her head on his shoulder, his arms holding her. "Go to sleep." He brushed kisses in her hair. "Don't dream, Tansy, just sleep. I won't leave you."