"I know that he did choose women and men by their genetic abilities and IQ as well as the strength of their psychic gifts and what those talents were," Lily admitted. "I've been reading quite a lot on it ever since I became pregnant."
"He's gone to plan B," Ken said, keeping his voice flat and calm and nonjudgmental, when he felt his rage cold and utterly deadly, building with a strength that shook him. "He's forcing the women to be with men they aren't paired with--men who are obsessive about them, but who the women have no real feeling for."
Lily's hand went to her throat in a defensive gesture. "What do you mean forcing? Rape? Are you saying he's condoning the rape of women?"
"It's science," Ken said.
"I think I'm going to throw up," Lily said. "He's given children cancer, sent men into jungles to be tortured--I can't take this. I don't know what to do." She began to cry silently. "How can he do these things? I kept thinking if I worked hard enough to make up for the things he did, I could somehow make it better, but I can't. He doesn't stop. He just keeps doing horrible, unforgivable things."
"Sit down for a minute." Ryland took her hand and led her to a chair. "This is too much for you right now, Lily."
She shook her head. "No, I have to know. You can't keep anything like this from me. When I was growing up, I knew he was always pushing boundaries, but I believed he knew right from wrong. When I discovered we'd all been taken from orphanages, that he bought us for experimenting on children, I knew something terrible was going on with him." She pressed both hands protectively to her stomach. "He wants the babies, and if he has the chance, he'll take them. You're all right. I know you are. I know it." She sounded lost, hopeless.
There was a small silence. Lily sighed, her lips firming. "We have to get the women out of there and we have to protect our children from him."
"Lily," Ken said, "I believe he has psychic talent of his own."
"He always said he didn't."
"But no one can read him, and how could he possibly know which infants had psychic talents. He had to have sensed it in some way. There's no other answer. That's probably why he's always been so obsessed with the subject," Ken insisted.
"He would never admit it, not to anyone," Lily said. "He wouldn't want to be considered anything but a man of science. Psychic talent is still considered freaky, and Peter Whitney would never, at any time, want someone to laugh behind his back."
"Anyone laughing at Whitney is at risk to disappear," Ken said. "I understand you're torn about this, Lily, but the truth is, unless Whitney dies, none of us are ever going to be safe, and neither are our children."
"He needs help. We can put him in a hospital."
"He knows too much. You know he's considered one of the smartest men on the planet. He knows secrets and he has powerful friends. He could name names. They'll never leave him in a hospital."
Lily shook her head and remained silent. Ryland kept his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She knew they would have to kill her father. His experiments would never stop until Whitney was dead. She was finally accepting that there was no real way to save him, and Ryland wanted to spare her the inevitable grief.
Ken felt sorry for Ryland. Ken wasn't married to Mari. Mari wasn't carrying his child. He hadn't even had time to get to know her, yet he felt protective. Ken hadn't known he had protective genes in his makeup, or even tenderness. He hadn't known lust could be so sharp and urgent and intense. That it could crawl inside a man and eat him from the inside out. He hadn't known lust could be wrapped up in dark emotions, black jealousy and obsession, the need to control and dominate. He hadn't known softer emotions could cut through everything dark and ugly inside of him and make him want to be a better man--make him need to be better so that he was worthy of one woman--the only woman.
Ryland had found those things with Lily, and Jack had managed to discover them with Briony. Ken might want to be a better man, but he wasn't certain he was strong enough to overcome his darker tendencies. Mari wasn't a submissive woman like her sister. She didn't have a soft, sweet nature, willing to compromise and soothe Ken's rougher side. Mari would fight his dominant nature, wanting freedom and control, and he would never be able to concede. The more she fought him, the worse he would get, until he would be like his father, a monster without equal, until their fights were real and it became a clash of wills to see who would win.
Not if you fall in love with her, Ken. Jack's telepathic voice interrupted his thoughts. You haven't figured that into the equation. Briony didn't exactly change me, but she brought out the best in me.
And if there is no best? Ken glanced down at the pale face lying so still beside him. She looked too young for a man like him. It was different when she opened her eyes, and he saw her too-old eyes--where he read the same edgy hunger and need. Then he could imagine himself with her, even if it was only briefly, but not like this, not when she was so small and fragile-looking.
Then the old man won after all, Jack replied harshly. And you let him.
Fuck you, Jack.
Right back at you. You've never walked away from a fight in your life. This is the biggest, most important battle you'll ever have. You're going to leave her to Brett? Or Sean? Hell, if you do, Ken, you don't deserve her and you're not man enough to have her. She needs someone who will stand up for her.
Shut the fuck up.
You only swear when you know you're full of shit.
Ken glared at his brother. You walked away from Briony.
The first time, yes. I wasn't strong enough to give her up the second time, and I had to learn more about myself than I ever wanted to know, and that was a good thing, Ken, because I learned I could control the things that would hurt Briony. I don't want to see her disappointed or hurt by something I say or do.
And if you couldn't control it?
How do you know if you don't try?
Ken's eyes glittered with menace. I know I don't want to take a chance with her life. You saw me acting like an animal. The things I want to do to her scare the hell out of me. If I end up hurting her, don't you think that's a win for the old man?
You would never hurt her. I know you better than you know yourself. Jack suddenly turned his attention to Lily. "What do you know about post-traumatic stress, Lily? Can a child suffer a trauma that would cause the symptoms? What about years of tracking and killing enemies? And torture, Lily, would that bring out the symptoms?"
Logan and Ryland glanced at Ken's face, the gridiron mask of scars disappearing into the neckline of his shirt. For the first time in his life, Ken felt color rising and was utterly aware of his patchwork skin. He looked like a freak show, sewn together to keep his body from falling apart. "Go to hell, Jack." His tone dropped to a low caress, a growling purr of warning.
"Of course a child can suffer trauma," Lily said. "Posttraumatic stress disorder is very common in men who go into life-and-death situations. It's usual to have nightmares and not be able to sleep. Often someone experiencing PTSD has feelings of detachment and a belief that they have no future."
"I don't want to hear this," Ken said.
"I do," Jack persisted, keeping a wary eye on his brother.
Lily took a deep breath and continued. "They can easily become irate and have outbursts of seemingly irrational anger. They might become increasingly vigilant and can become paranoid that a loved one may be in danger, so their reaction is intense to the extreme."
"This is bullshit, Jack," Ken warned. Anger swirled close to the surface, threatening to break through the icy calm he presented to the others in the room. If you're spoiling for a fight, I'll oblige, but not here, not around the women, he added.
Are you listening to either Lily or yourself? You hardly ever sleep. You have nightmares all the time. You pace half the night.
So do you.
Not anymore. Briony is there now.
Yeah, Jack, thanks for the vision. I don't want to hear any more. Leave me the hell alone.
Beside him,
Mari stirred, her hand sliding across the bed until she found his arm.
You okay? Cuz I'm a little sore here. I feel like someone beat the holy hell out of my chest, but if you need backup, I'm all over it.
Her voice was soft and carried a tinge of humor and even more determination. His heart did that curious overheating-and-melting-into-a-puddle thing he was beginning to recognize only Mari managed to induce in him.
Shh, honey. Go back to sleep. Everything is fine.
Was I asleep? I thought I was dead, but then I thought maybe you needed me so I came back to you. Her thoughts were completely unguarded, entirely open to him when she reached out to make the connection. I think you need me, Ken. I've never actually thought about being needed, or having a home.
Did she sound wistful? Ken only knew he wished they were alone together. Go to sleep, Mari. I'll be right here.
Don't beat the crap out of your brother. My sister wouldn't like it, and then I'd have to stick up for you and we'd get into a big thing and it would all turn ugly.
The tension eased in his belly and shoulders. The pounding around his temples lessened. We wouldn't want that. I'll let it go this time, but he's being a bit of a bastard. Jack can be like that sometimes.
He was looking down at her face, and even though her eyes were closed, she smiled, her full, sexy lips curving into a smile that made him want to kiss her.
Jack can be a bastard sometimes? Who would ever have thought? He isn't at all like you, now, is he?
Maybe, he conceded. He slid his hand up her arm to her shoulder, caressed her neck, and tunneled his fingers into her hair. "We're disturbing Mari. She needs to rest." It was a good excuse to shut his brother up.
Lily stood up immediately and once again checked Mari's heart and pulse. "She'll be fine. She does need rest. We can go into the other room and let her be."
"We'll have to lock her down," Logan reminded. "She nearly escaped."
Ken shot him a warning glare. "I'll stay here with her. She's not going anywhere."
"Actually she's going to be very weak. GhostWalkers have a tremendous capacity to heal, but their bodies can only take so many traumas."
Ken tried not to wince at the word. He knew what Jack was trying to say, but if he took a chance and kept Mari, and he was like his father, she would be the one to suffer.
Lily led the others out of the room, leaving Ken alone with her. He knew he should go to. She was temptation and he was weak, but he couldn't bring himself to give her up quite so soon--and she was safe from him in her weakened state, he was fairly certain.
CHAPTER 9
"So, you're all set to beat up the world for me," Ken whispered, stretching out beside Marigold. He turned toward her, scooping her close to him with one arm, trapping her leg with his thigh.
"Mmm." Her voice was drowsy. "Of course. It's the least I can do. After all, you did save my life when your brother was going to shoot me with that gun of his. He needs help, you know. He can't just go around offing people he doesn't like."
Ken smiled, for the first time in a long time feeling it was genuine. "I've been telling him that for years." He found the drowsy note in her voice unreasonably sexy.
"What did they do to me?"
"A little torture. We tried extracting names, but you held firm." He watched her face, and sure enough, he was rewarded with that same brief, intriguing smile.
"Good for me. I would have sung like a bird if you'd tried to make me eat peas." She gave a little shudder and opened her eyes, blinking up at him. "That's how all the interrogators get information from me."
"I've made a note and we'll go that route next time." He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close to his body heat. "You scared the hell out of me, Mari. That was close. Way too close."
She shifted toward him, wincing a little. "I think the Zenith did the job healing gunshot wounds and broken bones, but I feel like a truck ran over me."
He ran the pads of his fingers down her face in a small caress. "You'll feel better in a couple of days. You need lots of sleep."
Mari's lips tightened and her dark eyes went somber. "You know they'll come for me, Ken. Everyone, including Lily, is in danger with me here."
"We know. We're taking precautions."
"They'd better be darn good precautions. Don't underestimate them."
"We won't," he assured.
She liked having him lying beside her. "I've never lived anywhere but the compound. I've never been away from it except when they sent me on a mission, and we were always closely supervised. I've been on a lot of missions, and actually it was a relief to go somewhere and get away from there. Funny how this feels so different to me when it should feel the same. It's a research facility, isn't it?"
"Yes. It's part of Whitney Trust. Lily inherited everything when Peter Whitney supposedly was murdered. She kept everything going--everything legitimate, that is." On his side, propped on one elbow, he pushed the hair from her face with gentle fingers. "You've got to rest, Mari. You've got three IVs in you and Lily's still running fluids. Zenith is nothing to fool around with. I should have known when you were healing so fast, but no one uses it. It didn't occur to me that Whitney would deliberately endanger your life."
Mari enjoyed the feeling of his fingers stroking across her forehead. His touch was light and gentle, and no one had ever caressed her that way. "Why are you being so nice to me, Ken?" Because she didn't want to trust him--or the strange feelings she was beginning to develop for him.
"I'm never nice to anyone, Mari," he said, a smile in his voice, although it didn't show in his gray eyes. "Don't go ruining my reputation."
She closed her eyes because she couldn't look at him anymore without feeling the burn of tears. She told herself it was because she'd nearly died, but she knew better. Ken Norton was giving her a taste of what life could be like--and she didn't have a life, could never have a life.
"He owns us, you know. We talk about escaping, but we don't do it, because we don't know how to survive away from the compound. We've never walked a real city street. We've trained in urban warfare, in simulators, and we have mock cities we enter to face each other in battle, but we've never really been out of the facility, other than to go to a jungle or some drug lord's little kingdom. Like I said, going on missions was a kind of vacation, as silly as that sounds."
Her voice was soft and drowsy, the note hitting just the right pitch to make his body come alive. Hell. Everything she said and did, everything she was, brought out the worst in him. Ken fought to keep his mind centered on their conversation. "Were you ever in the Congo?"
"I've been in every jungle, rain forest, and desert there is," she said without opening her eyes. "And every place they have leeches, I've managed to find them. Leeches are right up there with needles and peas for me. Before Whitney's breeding program, I was a damned good soldier."
"You're still a damned good soldier."
She flashed a small, grateful smile and moved just slightly, a small shift in her position, but it brought her soft breasts right against his chest. He managed to suppress a groan, feeling more a pervert than ever. "If I put my arm around you, are you going to shove me off the bed?"
"No. Should I?"
"Do you want me to be truthful?"
Mari smiled and snuggled closer to him. "No. I hurt and I want to go to sleep. You feel safe. I need to feel safe."
"Then you're perfectly safe with me."
Ken wrapped his arm around her and tried not to feel more than the surge of sexual awareness the heat and softness of her body brought. Emotions were something he refused to deal in. She looked so young, her lashes long and thick, lying against her pale skin. Her hair gleamed with platinum and gold strands. Lily must have slipped something into the fluids to push her toward sleep, or Mari would never have made such an unguarded statement. He hoped she wouldn't remember it when she woke.
"I'm here, baby. Just go to sleep and I'll keep watch," he murmured, his lips against her temple. She
should have smelled of death--not life--but when he inhaled her scent, he could taste her in his mouth, feel his heart beating in time with hers, strong and steady with a perfect rhythm.
"I can't go to sleep; it's too quiet in here."
He groaned softly. "You're going to make me turn into a fool, aren't you?" He glanced toward the door. "You'd better never tell anyone I did this." Ken wrapped his arm around her head, his arm blocking the light from the window, wishing he had his guitar.
Jack had turned to books in the long years of their childhood and Ken had turned to music. He could play nearly any instrument, but he preferred the guitar. The feel of it in his hands and against his body was the same he felt when he held his rifle--an extension of himself. It was calming and took him away from the world, just as the rifle did. He couldn't play for her, so he sang softly, filling the room with his rich voice, using his own creations, songs he'd written over the years--songs of loneliness and heartache, of rage and death, and songs about the beauty of the earth and sea. He kept watch while her breathing evened out and she slept lightly. Whenever he stopped, her body jerked and a slight frown crossed her face, urging him on.
He glanced at his watch when Lily entered the room; he was shocked that several hours had passed. Embarrassed to be caught singing, he busied himself smoothing out Mari's hair while Lily checked her pulse and heart rate.
"How's she doing?" he finally asked.
"Much better. You saved her life, Ken, getting her here so fast. Another few minutes and I couldn't have done anything." Lily began removing the IVs from Mari's body. "Zenith is an amazing healer, but like dynamite, it's highly unstable. I've never been able to isolate what causes cell breakdown, and what the exact timing is. It always varies from patient to patient. It would be miracle drug if it stopped after healing the body. Look at her wrist."
Ken remained lying on the bed, holding Mari close to him. She was awake; he could tell by the racing energy in her mind. She'd awakened the moment Lily entered the room, but she hadn't stirred, keeping her breath slow and even.