Lethal Game Read online Christine Feehan (GhostWalkers #16)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 151345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
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“Are you still in touch with the other girls?”

For the first time she looked at him directly, her gaze moving over his face, a touch of suspicion in her eyes. “Not really, why?”

He shrugged. “They’d be your family. I never go more than a couple of days before I check in with Ezekiel or Rubin, with any of my brothers.”

“You didn’t have a sister?”

He shook his head and rubbed his aching leg. She immediately began to massage the cramping muscles. Her hands felt warm—they felt magic. The cramping stopped almost immediately.

“You have a gift, Amaryllis. My leg aches quite a bit and for the first time in a long while it feels better.”

She hesitated. “Malichai, I can try to fix the damage that’s being done to your leg, but I’ve never really tried anything that severe. I think you should call your doctor and get them to do an MRI, something that will reveal the damage to the bone. If you don’t do something soon, there’s a possibility something could go really wrong.”

He knew that. Subconsciously, he knew it before he’d ever agreed to take a vacation. He supposed he’d really come there to think about his future and what he’d do if he lost his leg. He’d allowed himself to be distracted because the last thing he wanted to do was face his reality. The leg had started off fine during all the physical therapy, feeling strong and sound and little by little it had begun to ache. And then hurt. His gut had begun to give him that alarm that always told him when something was really wrong.

When he was a boy, he’d worried about losing a limb. Every time he’d gotten a cut and an infection, that had been his biggest worry, although he’d never shared it with his brothers. The worry had carried over into his career when he was carrying out the wounded with their many losses of limbs. At first, when his leg just ached, he’d told himself it was his old paranoia; now, with Amaryllis clearly concerned, he was more worried than ever.

“The docs have done everything they know how to do,” he admitted. “I don’t have any more options.”

She remained sitting very still, her hand on his leg gently rubbing up and down the ragged scar tissue, a soothing gesture that was comforting.

“Can you do something?” He had to be careful, not act like he knew too much about the kind of gift she had.

She hesitated. “I don’t honestly know, Malichai. I don’t have a lot of practice and I’m not very good at toning it down. It feels like a lot of power, almost too much. Okay. Too much. If I do something wrong and damage the bone further . . .” She trailed off.

“You think I could lose my leg.” He had to say it out loud to someone. It seemed ridiculous there on the beach with the ocean rolling in the background.

Amaryllis bit her lip and then nodded. “I don’t know. Maybe, but I don’t want to carry that responsibility. I’ll have to think about it, maybe practice on something first. There’s so much heat . . .” She trailed off, looking up as a tall, gangly man with a surfboard tucked under his arm came bounding up to them like a shaggy collie.

“Amaryllis. Dude. You should be ridin’ the waves. They’re perfect today.”

His blond hair looked darker slicked back, the salt water still dripping.

“Malichai, this is my friend Dozer. Dozer, this is Malichai.”

Dozer shoved out his fist to do a bump. “Gnarly scars, man. I saw some on a man who had a shark take him down, but they weren’t even close to that. Cool.”

Malichai resisted pulling down the material of his pants. He wasn’t five.

Dozer beamed at him, his teeth gleaming almost as white as his hair. “What’s the good word?”

“Nice morning,” Malichai observed, uncertain what one said to Dozer. Amaryllis, from the way she introduced Dozer, had made it clear he was her friend. “Everything good?”

Dozer frowned. “Had some whack job in full diving gear grab my ankle and pull me off my board just now. It was on purpose too. I don’t understand these tourists anymore. There’s a big ocean out there. Why get upset because a few of us are riding the waves?”

Malichai sat up straighter, exchanging a long look with Amaryllis. “Is Dozer given to fantasy? Because if someone pulled him off his board and—” He broke off.

“Right here, dude, and no, I’m not given to fantasy. Some asshole in full scuba gear came off the shelf underwater right at me.”

“You’re telling us a diver caught your ankle and deliberately jerked you off your surfboard? What else did he do once he had you off the board?” Amaryllis demanded.

“I kicked him in the head before he got me off,” Dozer admitted. “At first, I thought he was a shark, then I got a good look at him. I’ve heard of divers messing with surfers, but he could have drowned me. He came at me a second time, like maybe he was going to try to take me under, but I punched him, right in his face mask. Three of my buddies swam over to make sure I was all right and he dove deep and was gone.”


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