Murder Game

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tansy woke in Kadan's arms. He was wrapped around her so tight she wasn't certain where she left off and he started. He was literally sprawled over her. One thigh lay wedged between her two bent legs, and his arm was around her waist, his hand over her breast. She noticed that even in his sleep he seemed to protect the injured side of her, careful nothing brushed against the laceration. Even the sheet was tented with pillows. He'd thought of everything to make her comfortable.

She didn't remember falling asleep. There had been so much pressure in her head, pain stabbing at her. She couldn't stand the light or any noises. Somehow she'd gone to sleep, and there'd been no dreams, almost a first for her. She rarely slept at night, and now she was afraid the puppet master might find her in her dreams. She'd been afraid to close her eyes, yet dawn was creeping through the window, she felt fine, and she'd obviously slept with Kadan wrapped protectively around her.

She shifted her body experimentally. Instantly his hand tightened on her breast, his thumb stroking over her nipple.

"Don't move."

His voice was a blend of smoky sex and black velvet. His breath was warm on her shoulder and she felt his mouth skim over her back.

Truthfully, she didn't really want to move. She loved lying in his arms, feeling decadent and lazy, loving her naked body cuddled so tight against his. Every stroke of his thumb sent ripples of arousal from breast to thighs. It was a wonderful way to wake up.

"Where are the others?"

He licked her warm skin, grazed his teeth over her neck, taking his time just nibbling, his eyes half-closed while he just absorbed the feel of her. "Does it matter?"

"No." Her answer came out a little breathless. His hips rocked against her, rubbing the hard length of his cock along the curve of her bottom. The sensation was delicious.

"They went home to their women. Gator's wife is researching, and he wants to see what she found for us. They'll be back soon. I thought it would be better for us to be alone when you handle the other game pieces. I noticed it makes you uncomfortable when they see you afterward, although Nico was a huge help and I've asked him to be certain to be back by this evening."

His hands moved, cupping and kneading her breasts a little more aggressively, tugging at her nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until she was stiff and aching for him.

She closed her eyes, arching into him. "Thank you for being so thoughtful. I can't help but feel vulnerable afterward, and it is hard to have anyone see me like that. Half the time I don't know what's going on around me. And I'm always afraid I might end up fragmented and institutionalized again."

"You won't. I'll always take care of you."

She smiled at him, aching inside, wanting to believe he would always be with her.

"Stay still, baby." He levered himself over her so he faced her on his side, keeping her injured hip safe from jarring.

She loved his face, the hard angles and planes, his strong jaw with the dark shadow, his sensual mouth and straight nose. Most of all, his dark blue, almost black eyes. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, positioning himself so he had easy access to her breasts. "I love how warm and soft you are," he murmured, tracing a finger along the shape of her lips, down her chin to the valley between her breasts. "I love the thought of eating you for breakfast."

Her womb clenched. Liquid heat pooled. She loved the way he wanted her. His focus was always intense and complete. Wholly on her. He could make her wet just by looking at her.

His tongue teased her nipple, first licking, as if she were an ice cream cone, then harder flicks, before his mouth settled, hot and greedy, sucking strongly. She couldn't stop the ragged cry that escaped, or the way her body involuntarily pushed deeper into the heat of his mouth. He alternated between hot licks, small stinging bites, and sucking, so that her body just kept coiling tighter and tighter and she was left gasping for breath.

She held him to her, cradling his head, stroking his hair, sometimes yanking when another bite sent fire sizzling through her bloodstream. She watched his face, those incredible lashes, the concentration, the lust rising dark, almost frightening in its intensity. She loved that in him-the way he craved her, the way he needed her to give herself wholly to him. He made her feel beautiful and sexy and so wanted. At the same time she was so desperate for his mouth and hands and his body. The mix of emotions was incredibly sensual.

Kadan lavished attention on her breasts, teasing and stroking, his tongue a sensual weapon, his teeth erotic, his hands magic. He kissed his way down the curve of her breast, licking at the underside and trailing more kisses along her rib cage.

"You're so soft and warm, Tansy. I love the way your body responds to me." His hand was well ahead of his mouth, moving down her soft body to the junction at her legs, testing her wetness, her desire for him.

Kadan wanted to take his time and feast, a leisurely exploration of shadows and hollows, finding every hidden sweet spot, every trigger. He wanted an intimate map he could use to pleasure her. And he wanted this for himself. This absolute giving to him, her body open to every sensual thing he wished to do, her giving herself to him without reservation. She trusted him; whether it was instinct or not, or the connection of their minds, he didn't know, he didn't care-he knew only that she put herself entirely into his hands and gave him her body.

He moved over her, taking in every inch of her with his hands and tongue, tasting and teasing, dancing his ringers across her body until she was rewarding him with shivers of pleasure and soft moans she couldn't repress. He didn't want her to be silent. He needed to hear every sound, see and feel every response. His teeth raked again at her nipple and she choked out a strangled cry. His tongue flicked and curled around the peak and then drew it into the hot depths of his mouth. Each hard flick of his tongue sent sensations crashing through her, rushing to her womb, where his hand lay over her lower stomach and he could feel heat and the bunching of her muscles, while his mind shared every pleasure.

He licked his way over the slope of her breast again, down through the valley, and tasted cinnamon. Sheer pleasure rocketed through him. There had to be some kind of aphrodisiac in the lotion she used on her satin-soft skin. His, all his. Every last inch of her. She arched into his mouth, pressing herself deeper. He slid his hand down lower, over her damp mound, his thumb sliding into slick heat, finding her hard bud and rasping over it with the bristles embedded in the pads of his ringers. Her breath came in ragged, breathy little moans, and her hips writhed and bucked in need.

He didn't let the flames licking over his skin or the wildfire burning along his shaft hurry him. He wanted to drive her into a frenzy. He wanted cinnamon candy for breakfast. Her scent called to him, and every nerve, every cell responded. He spread her thighs apart, and looked up at her. She looked sultry, face flushed, eyes glazed with a hot, desperate hunger. He lowered his head.

His tongue lashed at her, sending lightning whipping through her body, white-hot, threatening to consume her.

Tansy nearly bucked from the bed, but his arms pinned her down and he continued his greedy feast. His teeth scraped and tugged, his tongue teased and probed, and then his fingers joined in.

She cried out, unable to stop the pulsing pleasure pounding through her. Lightning zinged from breasts to womb, spilling more cinnamon candy into his marauding mouth. He took her up, winding her into a tight coil of desperate need, until there was only heat and fire and the sinful ecstasy of his tongue and teeth.

He pressed tight against her hard, aching bud, and the sensations heightened; flames flashed like a firestorm, and she lost her breath and most of her mind.

"I love the way you taste," he murmured, licking at her hungrily.

His fingers plunged and curled, pressed deep and stroked, driving her wilder, pushing her to the very edge of the precipice, but never quite allowing her over it. She teetered there, reaching for the orgasm, but he refused to give it to her, drawing the pleasure out on a torturous rack until she shuddered and moaned and heard herself begging for release.

"What is it you want from me?" He breathed fire into her spasming womb.

"Please, Kadan… please." All she could do was writhe under his wicked mouth.

"Is this what you want, baby?" He rewarded that breathy plea. His fingers pushed deep, right through the tight folds. She could feel her muscles grip desperately. And then his mouth was on her tight, hard bud, already inflamed with need, and he suckled while his fingers thrust deep. He used the velvet bristles on the pads of his fingers ruthlessly, twisting against her swollen, sensitive nerve endings, and she screamed, her body clamping down in a vicious spasm, again spilling cinnamon candy into his waiting mouth.

He kissed the insides of her thighs and her stomach, then leaned down to lick at the offering still spilling around her rippling sheath, before he came up onto his knees and pressed the broad, flared head of his shaft into her hot, slick entrance.

"Easy, baby," he whispered when she arched into him, trying to impale herself on the thickness. "You're so fucking tight. Let your body accept mine." He worked his way through her soft folds while her muscles gripped and strangled, nearly milking him right then.

"I need…" She couldn't get anything out. She just desperately needed to be filled.

"I know what you need."

He sank deeper and deeper into her folds, until he was buried completely and his tight balls rocked against her buttocks. The sensation only added more flames, burning hotter, scorching them both. He blanketed her body, stretching out, wanting every inch of her skin against his. His lips found her throat, his hands her breasts, fingers sliding possessively as he licked at her pulse and nibbled his way to her mouth.

He rocked his hips gently, pressing down, the thick length of him rubbing along her swollen, stretched muscles, sending more lightning shooting down her thighs and up her belly to her breasts. His fingers pinched and tugged at her nipples, so that the lightning forked out and shot back to her clenching, slick sheath. She shuddered beneath him. And then he filled her mind, flooding her with everything him.

She pulsed around him, her body relaxing a little as her muscles became used to the stretched, burning feeling of his penetration. He took a long, slow stroke, pulling back and driving through the tight folds. Instantly electricity sizzled and arced through her as his shaft rubbed against engorged flesh. She gripped his upper arms as he levered himself over her, keeping that slow, steady, torturous rhythm that brought her right to the edge again, but kept her from falling.

Kadan looked down into her face, into her eyes. She was his. It was there in the depths of her gaze. That unconditional giving of her body to him. More than her body. Each slow stroke of his shaft, driving through the stranglehold her muscles had on him, sent waves of pleasure rocking through him, but this was so much more. When she touched him, when she was with him like this, the cold of his soul was gone completely. She brought heat and fire and melted the ice, or at least pushed the monster in him so far down he couldn't find it. She gave him her warmth, her heat, so that they burned together. So that he was alive.

Tell me you love me. Say it out loud. He kept the same torturous rhythm, while her body writhed under his and her hips bucked upward, desperate for relief. Say it, Tansy.

Her hands caught his face. Her gaze stayed locked on his. "I do love you. Every part of you. Can't you feel it when I give myself to you? Feel me, the way I need you."

She moved her body in little circles, squeezing her muscles, so that it felt like velvet fists massaging and kneading his sensitive shaft, suckling at him like a tight mouth, hotter than hell and just as sinful. He heard his own hoarse cry mingling with her ragged moan, and he gave up all pretense of control. He thrust hard and deep, over and over, his hips in a frenzy, reaching for the ecstasy, racing toward it. His head felt like it might explode, his blood boiled, his balls drew tight and hard, and still he pounded into her.

He drove deeper and harder, over and over, because she loved him and, God help him, he needed that love-was desperate for it, desperate to show her how he felt in return. He felt her tighten around him, and he gripped her harder, holding her helpless, pinned beneath him while he drove into her again and again. Her mouth opened wide and her eyes went opaque. She screamed and her body pulsed and clamped down, ripping his seed from him, suckling so strongly the sensation washed up his spine and nearly exploded out his skull. She drained him, taking every hot pulse of his body and milking him for more. Her body shuddered again and again in rhythm with the powerful jerking of his. Her womb rippled and convulsed around him, gradually lessening in strength and then fading as they lay together, gasping.

Kadan collapsed over her soft body, fighting for air. He nuzzled her throat as he rolled to the side, one arm still tight around her. He'd never come like that before in his life. He'd never felt that surge of love and emotion tied so tight with lust and desperate need. He'd never even imagined he could feel like that, and a part of him didn't trust such good fortune. She'd said she loved him, but he was in her mind, and there was something he couldn't quite put his finger on that shook him.

He kissed her again, wanting to be whole, wanting all doubts gone, and not certain how to achieve that when he couldn't find the way through sex.

"When I can walk, I'm going to take a long, hot shower," she announced.

He bent his head to her breast, pulling the soft mound into his mouth. He suckled for a moment and then bit down, needing to leave his mark. She gasped, a soft little cry of protest, her body arching closer to him, but she didn't stop him, rather her hands caressed his hair while she held him to her as if she knew what he was doing.

Kadan, standing in the doorway of the living room, watched Tansy through half-closed eyes. She sat curled up on the couch, legs drawn under her, long hair sliding around her body like so much silk. As usual, she hadn't bothered with makeup and she was barefoot. She wore his button-down-the-front shirt and he could just see the outline of her breasts and the darker nipples through the thin material. There was something very satisfying seeing her in his shirt and knowing she wore little beneath it but his mark.

If he crossed the room and took her to the floor, he had the feeling she'd be more than willing, even though she was exhausted. She sipped at her tea and flipped through a magazine, but her eyes, when she lifted them, to his face, had more violet than blue in them, and he suspected her mind wasn't on him-or the floor. Her brain was fitting pieces of the puzzle together. Or maybe it was on him and he was coming up short.

"You okay, baby? I ended up being a little rougher than I intended." He rubbed his shadowed jaw and knew her thighs were chafed. He needed her back with him; he was not yet willing to have her go down that dangerous path again. Nor did he want her thinking she might do better than be with a man who had done nothing but bring chaos back into her life.

"I'm better than fine." She smiled up at him, but there was something sad in her eyes and her smile was wistful.

His heart did a funny twist in his chest, and deep inside, everything stilled. Even the way she sipped at her tea was sexy to him, and yet she seemed so far away, as if she was distancing herself. The one thing he couldn't have with her, the one thing he would never be able to live with-was distance.

He leaned one hip against the wall, his eyes never leaving her face. "I can't remember ever having a home. I never expected to have my own woman or live in a house with her." He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her without blinking, using his cool, catlike stare. "When this is over, are you going to marry me?"

He had her full attention now. She blinked rapidly and her lips parted slightly. He had the urge to kiss her, but he stayed where he was, never taking his eyes from her face.

"You already asked me that question and I said yes."

"No, I told you we were going to get married. I bullied you until you said what I wanted to hear. I want to know if you're really going to marry me."

Her tongue touched her full lower lip, the pouty one he often found himself staring at. She remained silent, a little shell-shocked, and although he knew he shouldn't, he touched her mind, needing to know what she was thinking.

She had been in a hospital for several months after a breakdown. It could happen again. What kind of genetics would she pass to her children-their children? Would he even want children with her? And her father, what about him? She had to wear gloves almost all the time, would that become an embarrassment? What about her work? She loved being far away from people, where she could just exist in peace. What about his work? He was a born warrior and would never be happy doing anything else. How much time would they have together?

More than anything she wanted to be with him, but was it right for him? Could she do that to him? Be selfish and take what he was offering her even though she had no idea what could happen…

"Stop"

Her gaze jerked up to his. She looked frightened.

"Can you love me the way I am, Tansy? Can you live with a man like me? That's what you should be asking yourself, not all that other nonsense."

"How would we live?" She sounded sad, almost forlorn. Her fingers wrapped around the tea mug until her knuckles turned white. "Like this? On the run? As long as you're with me, you'll never have a real home, Kadan. Whitney isn't going to stop and we both know it."

"You didn't answer my question. Can you love me the way I am?"

"You know I already do, but that isn't the point, Kadan. You push so hard sometimes, and whether you think so or not, my concerns are legitimate. You'll wake up one day and wonder why you ever wanted to be with me."

"So it's settled then. You'll marry me. Say it."

"I already said it."

"Well say it again. I want to hear commitment in your voice this time. For me, divorce is not an option. I want that same commitment from you. No matter what happens, no matter what we face, we do it together. We fit. You fit me and I don't want to be without you. I don't like you sitting over there, mulling over whether or not you're going to stay with me once we're done here. I want to absolutely know you're mine-that there's never a question, never a doubt that we belong. So tell me. Say it out loud."

Tansy kept her gaze on his face. He sounded so tough. So hard. His face could have been carved of stone, his body sculptured from steel, so very still. When he ceased all movement, he became part of his background, every part of him completely motionless-waiting. For her. He looked as if whatever she said didn't matter, as if she couldn't shatter him into a million pieces, but his mind was in hers and she knew better. She knew air might be flowing through his physical chest, but deeper inside, where ordinarily he was safe from anyone seeing him, he was holding his breath-waiting. For her.

"I love you, Kadan. I want to be with you always. And I don't bully so easily. I'm not afraid of you, and no one pushes me anywhere I don't want to go. I'm committing myself to you-to us. So yes, I'll marry you when this is done. I have no idea what kind of future we'll have, but even if I only get a small part of you, I'll have the best part."

Kadan couldn't move even if he'd wanted to. For a moment he had the strange sensation of falling on silken sheets and into her warm, soft body, of sharing her skin and sliding into the sheer intimacy of her mind. Everything in him settled.

"Okay." It was the briefest of words.

He had no idea what else to say. He could show her, but he couldn't say it. She didn't seem to mind. She flashed a sassy grin at him, just as if she caught glimpses of how much she meant to him; he hoped so-she deserved to know.

"At the end of the day, when we sit in our rocking chairs, Tansy, and watch our grandchildren play, I can promise you, being with me will have been worth it." Because he was going to devote himself to making and keeping her happy, and in a lot of ways he was very single-minded.

"Are we going to have grandchildren?"

"I want everything. I never thought I would have a home or a family, and with you I have both, but you made me want it all. Lots of grandchildren."

She took another drink of tea and regarded him steadily over the cup. "And when you're off doing your thing with the boys, am I going to be at home alone with the children?"

He wasn't going to lie. "This is who I am. I can provide a safe home with others like us, with GhostWalkers. We all help one another. You won't be alone, but I'll be leaving for short periods of time frequently and we have to live in a safe environment. We have no choice."

"I don't worry about being alone. I'm good at it. When you're gone, I can do my photography work up in the mountains." She flashed him a small, seductive smile. "You can come looking for me."

"You can stay where I put you," he corrected. "During the times I'm gone, you won't be able to go to your parents, where I can't protect you and our children from Whitney or anyone else who might want you for their own reasons."

"That makes sense when we have children, but certainly before, I can still work."

His jaw tightened. "You can be in a safe environment."

"And my photography?" Her voice dared him to tell her she couldn't do something she loved.

"When I come back, we'll both go. I'm good at carrying equipment. Trained for years in it. I'll have dinner ready when you get back to camp every night."

Her eyes lit up, and he knew he wanted to see that look on her face for the rest of his life.

"Good then." She surprised and pleased him, capitulating without further argument, as if she knew that when it came to her safety, he couldn't compromise. "I'm not into big weddings, but I'm a fairly traditional girl, and torturing you with a formal dress and tux sounds like a good idea, just so we start off right."

He blinked. A muscle ticked in his jaw and there was no way to stop it.

Her smile widened.

"You aren't nice."

"Just making sure you know what you're in for." She tilted her chin a little with a mixture of challenge and defiance. "Did you tell Tucker and Ian the puppet master threatened my parents again?"

"Of course I did. We've stepped up security. Three more of my team members are arriving today to help Tucker and Ian, although the location is secure and I doubt they'll really need it. I wanted you to feel comfortable with their security. Did you want to call your mother today?"

She looked away from him, carefully setting the tea mug on the end table and plucking at imaginary threads on her jeans. "I think I'll wait another day or so."

"She'll be worried about you," he persisted. "You've always called her. Your mother is as much a victim here as you are, Tansy." He kept his voice low and gentle, a stroking caress rather than judgment.

"I know she is. I just don't know what I'm going to say when she wants me to talk to my father. I'm not ready for that, and I don't want to say or do anything that would hurt her."

He wanted to argue with her. The longer she waited, the harder it might be for her, and if she didn't call, her mother would become more upset and probably ask more questions, but her hurt was too raw, too painful, and he let it go. He'd force the issue another time for her sake, but not now, not when she was so pale and her eyes looked like two bruises. He crossed the room and took the seat at the opposite end of the couch, reaching for her bare foot and pulling it into his lap so he could begin a gentle massage.

"Are you up to giving me details about the puppet man and Hawk? I've been compiling notes and we have quite a bit already." He worked his fingers along her heel and up into her ankle and calf. "Once we finish that, I think I can find the others just by identifying the ones we already have."

Tansy's face stilled; her gaze jumped to his face, and any semblance of a smile was gone.

"No. We're not done until I handle every piece and gather as many clues as I can. We have to be certain who these men are. We can't take a chance of identifying the wrong person, or leaving one of them out there to kill more people."

"I'll find them," he said, his voice confident.

Her eyes flashed silvery violet, and she drew her leg back toward her, trying to get her foot back. His fingers tightened around her ankle, holding her in place. Tansy shoved her braid over her shoulder and glared at Kadan. "My leg is injured not my brain. Quit treating me like I'm about to break in half."

He appeared unmoved, other than lifting an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm the one about to break in half. The last thing I need is for some freak to be trying to play mind games with you." While one hand held her tight, the other began to massage her foot again.

Her glare deepened into a scowl. "This isn't about you. We're supposed to be finding killers, remember? If I can handle it, then so can you."

His hands stilled on her foot, his eyes darkening like a thundercloud. "You're feeling very sure of yourself now that you think I can't-or won't-retaliate."

Her heart jumped. She had been sure of him, of the way he was treating her like a porcelain doll. A ghost of a smile teased her mouth before she could stop it. She liked this side of him, all ferocious and ready to pounce. "You won't."

He leaned forward, hand spanning her throat. "Maybe not this minute, but your hip will heal soon and then you aren't going to be so lucky."

She turned her face into his palm, scraping at it with her teeth and then pressing a kiss in the exact center. "I'll be lucky. Whatever you do, I think I'll end up enjoying it."

Her voice sank into his groin, hardening his shaft so that his jeans were suddenly far too tight. Worse, she was right. What was he going to do to her? He'd never strike her, and if he tried anything like turning her over his knee, it wouldn't be a punishment, not the way his body went hard the moment he touched her. He couldn't even say he'd withhold sex-he'd never last.

Heat slid into his brain at his next thought, and he shared it with her. I'll spend all night just bringing you close and never letting you get off.

She blushed, just the way he'd known she would, the color creeping up her neck into her face. She looked slightly shocked, a little too innocent, and very much as if she believed he might actually resort to his threat. "You're so wrong, Kadan." She couldn't wipe the goofy smile off her face, and that would just encourage his perverse behavior. You're probably very capable of using sex to control me, and worse, you'd probably enjoy yourself while you were at it.

I'd say the probability was extremely high.

Why that would make every nerve ending in her body come alive, she didn't know. "You're so wrong," she repeated, shaking her head. "Seriously, Kadan. You have to understand me. There's something in me that can't let this go now, not until it's done. I've always been like that. My mind won't leave it alone."

"It's getting too dangerous."

"It was always dangerous. You know that. You knew it when you came looking for me and when you offered to let me out of this entire mess. Nothing's changed since then."

"Everything's changed." His jaw tightened. "I…" The damn word wouldn't come out, but his heart hurt, gripped in a vise. Everything had changed. Before he'd had nothing to lose; now he had everything to lose, and everything was sitting right beside him on the couch.

"Kadan." Her voice went soft, silky, sliding over him like the touch of her fingers. "Life is a risk. You know that better than anyone. You have to be who you are, a warrior, a man who risks everything to serve others. I have to keep doing what I do. I chose this path and I'm on it now. I can't be less than who I am any more than you can."

"Damn it, Tansy, you're asking me to risk your life. Your sanity. You didn't see yourself last night when I carried you bleeding to bed. You had a seizure and you couldn't even open your eyes or stand noise. If Nico hadn't been here, I have no idea what I would have done."

She waited a heartbeat, just looking at him. Once his eyes locked with hers, she leaned toward him. "I love you, Kadan. I'm not going anywhere. For the first time in years, I've been able to touch someone without wearing gloves. I've been able to use my talent again when I thought I'd never be able to. Yes, immediately afterward, I'm having repercussions, but the exercises you've given me are working. I don't have the headaches constantly and I can sleep at night. To me, you're a miracle. You always will be. Tracking is important to me. I want to be able to do it when I need to, and I believe I can get to a place, with your help, where I can. Until we figure it out, of course we're going to run into some rough patches…" She paused when he made a derisive growling sound, but then continued. "I want to be able to help too, to give back and stop murders when no one else is able to do it."

"I don't like it."

"I know you don't. I don't like you putting your life on the line either, Kadan, but I understand why you need to do it, because I have the same drive."

He shook his head. "I don't have anything else. I could never make it in normal society. We both know that. You've seen inside of me. You recognize what I am. You, on the other hand, have a million other things you can do."

Tansy leaned back in her seat. "You know one has nothing to do with the other. You're arguing because you're afraid for me."

"And for me. I can't lose you."

"Then you'll just have to find a way to protect me. I believe in us. You brought me back so much faster this last time, and I was really far in. We're getting better and better at it. I think the stronger we are as a couple, the stronger team we'll be when I track."

"I'm never going to win any arguments with you, am I?"

"Probably not, not when it's something that matters to me, but I won't argue with you often," she promised.

"This would work much better if you just did everything I said, Tansy"

She flashed him another smile. "It's going to work just fine."

"All right then." He managed to keep his face entirely blank, but his fingers sank deeper into her calf, massaging her muscle. "Let's get this done. In order for me to eliminate both teams successfully, as well as the puppet master, we have to have all the identities and try to get them all in the same day. As for the puppet master, he's going to be the most difficult, but I have an idea."

"Did someone go to the site of the snake's murder and hunt for a camera? That was a huge mistake on his part."

"We're on it. Let's profile the last two, and if we get as much information as you did last night, I should be able to start hunting them as early as tomorrow. Lily and Flame are both researching for us, and I can get put both of our Ghost-Walker teams on standby. They'll all help. Time will be everything."

"Do you want to go into the kitchen?"

"No. I'll bring the last two pieces in here. And your gloves. I'll get Nico's powder and your pills too." He set her leg carefully aside as he stood.

He needed to take a breath where she couldn't see that just the thought of her touching those game pieces made him break into a sweat. He had thought that he could control her, control the situations they were in, but he was finding having a partner meant giving up some of his control.

She sat in the same place, her chin on her drawn-up knee, looking too fragile to go after killers, but he knew she wasn't; she had a steel rod for a spine and more heart than most. When he handed her the gloves, she tangled her fingers with his.

"Kadan. Kiss me."

He didn't hesitate, leaning down to capture her mouth with his, loving her, tasting her fear, her belief in him. He cupped her chin and took his time, savoring her taste, knowing she needed him inside of her the same way he needed her. Then, because he couldn't resist, he opened a few buttons of the shirt she wore-his shirt-and leaned down to bathe the mark he'd made on her with his tongue before pressing kisses over it. He felt her shuddering breath, and something in him eased.

He carefully buttoned her up again. "Tell me what you're planning."

"I'll find him this time and try to observe, but at some point he'll spot me. I'm going to let him and see if he makes a mistake." She rested her forehead against his. "Hang in there with me. I know it will be hard, but just trust me. I'll need you."

He had to be honest. "I don't know if I can, but I'll try."

"This time, you hold the piece in your palm, be the table. I'll cover it with my hands and try to pick up impressions. If I have to, I'll touch the top of the piece and see what I get. That way, you can remove it the moment it's necessary."

Kadan liked the plan. He controlled the situation, and he needed to feel in control when she was putting herself in danger. He nodded and settled himself next to her while she pulled on the gloves.

Tansy took a breath, let it out, and laid her palm over Ka-dan's open hand where the ivory scorpion lay, tail poised to sting. Waves of rage poured over and into her, flooding her mind. Anger pulsed through her and with it the desire to strike back, hard and ugly. Hurt something. Someone. She had the impression of a woman cowering on the floor crying. A child in the doorway sobbing.

His head hurt, the pressure unbearable. He didn't want to hurt them. Not them. What had he done again? He tried not to hear the sounds of their weeping. She would leave him this time. She should leave him. Next time he might kill her, and he never wanted it to be her. He needed to find the others, tell them he had to go next, take a turn out of order if necessary, or move his timetable forward. He couldn't hurt her ever again.

The others understood him, the terrible voices that drove him. Maybe he would have been okay if he'd stayed in the military, but somehow he'd lost control of his temper. Every day, it just seemed to escalate until he couldn't stop rampaging. One wrong word and he had to pound something; if he didn't obey the voices, the pain in his head was unbearable. The satisfaction of feeling his fist slamming into flesh was becoming too short-lived. Now he needed to take it all the way when this happened. He had to find someone to pour his rage into-but not her. Never her.

He gathered her into his arms, rocking her back and forth, trying to comfort her, trying to comfort himself. There was blood on his hands-her blood. He'd gone to three counselors, but nothing helped, certainly not the medicine they'd given him. If he touched her again, he was eating a bullet. He had to find a way to stop the rage that consumed him. His head hurt so bad, vises squeezing until he thought his head would explode. And the voices, whispering all the time, telling him he was nothing. And that one voice that never let up, not for a moment.

Angela, I'm sorry. Take Tommy Jr. and go to your parents. Get the hell away from me until I figure out what's wrong. He needed to say it out loud. She probably feared leaving him. And he was afraid too. If she left and he got angry, there was no telling what he'd do. He wept silently, terrified for all of them, but the pain in his head was relentless, and he needed to find someone to pound until the hurting stopped…

Tansy frowned. The faint whispers in his head held a familiar cadence. Was the puppet master actually taking part in driving this man to murder? He wasn't like the others she'd tracked. This man was ashamed and scared and filled with remorse. He was desperately fighting to keep from giving in to the madness. He had a wife and child. He didn't want to harm anyone, but he couldn't stop himself. The voice and the relentless pressure in his head caused terrible rages. Was the puppet master the voice?

"Don't," Kadan cautioned. "Don't give him any more to track you with." He watched her eyes, the way he always did. She was moving further away from him, the violet completely taking over the blue and the silver encroaching on the violet, until her eyes shimmered with that strange opaque that signaled she was deep inside the tracking lane.

Tansy didn't respond, didn't act as if she heard him. Her mind was completely focused now. He couldn't follow her, only read her thoughts, and she was on the thread of that voice. It was faint, the strand so thin, but razor-edge sharp, a bite cutting into the walls of Scorpion's mind, causing pain and enraging him with the relentless pressure. She stayed very quiet, letting her mind travel along the thread, careful not to disturb it until she found the second thread that led directly to her prey interlocking with the first.

Impressions swamped her mind. A shed. Benches and tables with cutting tools. A man sitting, his hands busy shap-ing the perfect piece. A masterpiece, museum-quality really. Few could ever top his skills in carving. Each detail so precise. He peered at the specimens gathered around him. Drawings. The live one in the glass cage. The dead one pinned to the table. Scorpions of various sizes. He needed this one perfect. It took work and discipline, but he had never minded either, rather he valued the traits.

This one had probably been a mistake, but he'd had no real choice at the time. Scorpion had maybe one to two more murders in him and then he'd probably kill himself. He didn't like making mistakes. He placed his tool on the table and moved it a couple of centimeters. Precise. Absolutely precise. Tansy drew in her breath sharply. The puppet master had OCD. His work shed was immaculate, every tool labeled and placed in an exact, designated spot. Nothing was out of place. Even the shavings were caught in a small container, so that not a speck was on the table or the floor of the shed.

This was his private residence and she doubted if it was on base. She tried to look around to see anything that might identify where he was. The longer she stayed, the better the chance of alerting him, but she wanted to give Kadan something more to go on.

She could make out windows, four panes darkened, but she could still see out. He must have been looking outside while he carved the ivory. He was humming off-key. And he was "pushing" at Scorpion, slashing at his mind with deliberate, painful strokes to provoke him. The man had no filters, and too much testosterone flooding his body, making him more aggressive than normal, his genetic altering deliberate.

A mistake. He made another careful cut into the ivory. He had chosen Tommy because he was already aggressive. His psychic talents were already strong as well, but like the others, Tommy had failed his psychological profile, not, like the others, due to his violent tendencies, but Tommy had them, buried beneath the surface. He'd thought he could bring the aggressive tendencies out and manipulate Tommy as easily as he did the others. He'd been wrong. Wrong. He detested mistakes and never allowed them, yet Tommy was living proof.

He should have listened to his instincts and waited just a little longer to find the right candidate.

Tansy stroked a finger along the back of the scorpion, following the movements of the puppet master's fingers. Up the curved tail, feeling each groove. There was something there. A watch. A very distinctive watch.

You're getting to be a nuisance. Or maybe you're just lonely. Are you lonely, Tansy? Tell me where you are. Talk to me. I tried to visit you, but no one was home. Are you going to be waiting for me?

Tansy forced down fear and stayed still, breathing in and out, following the pattern of Kadan's breath. Kadan was there in her mind; she felt him, yet he didn't yank her out of the situation as he always had done. He waited with her, believing in her, and that gave her the confidence to carry out her plan. She wanted to keep the puppet master talking, hoping he would make a mistake while trying to draw her out.

He believed himself stronger, a better tracker, but she didn't think so. He manipulated eight men, but he didn't track killers. She'd been doing it for years. His ego was going to be his downfall.

I know you can hear me. Are you enjoying our little game as much as I am? I've found out quite a bit about you. Things you probably don't know about yourself. I have access to several very secret files. I'd share if you were interested.

Deliberately she stirred, sending a vibration along the thread, somewhere between apprehension and curiosity, spinning her spider's web to catch herself a fly. The puppet master would want to talk. He'd never had the opportunity to show off before. This was his big chance. He couldn't let her live long, of course, but while she was alive, he could share his superiority. Someone would know.

Tansy let him make the connection stronger, sending his energy back along the thread to find her. And with his energy came more information. She saw the box on the table, the bold, precise lettering. James R. Dunbar.

Kadan opened his hand and dropped the scorpion. They had him.