Toxic Game Read online Christine Feehan (GhostWalkers #15)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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“Whitney paid them very well.”

“Not when they didn’t deliver a virus that would kill Shylah. According to Shylah, and I know we have to take this with a grain of salt because Whitney lies, he specifically told them they were not to create anything resembling the Marburg or Ebola viruses. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. Whitney might very well have wanted to have the ultimate weapon, but first he would have wanted the vaccine. Who knows? At this point it doesn’t matter. You have to find them and take them out. And you have to get that virus back.”

“We’ve got people on Whitney’s scientists,” Joe said. “I’ll put someone on Montgomery. The most important thing for us now is to save your life and Shylah’s.”

Draden didn’t think Joe was a very good liar. “Were those we extracted able to collect tissue or blood samples from any of the people in Lupa Suku for the labs?”

Joe shook his head. “No, the MSS ambushed them before any of the work could actually get started. They said it was bad, Draden.”

“It was. I burned the bodies and the village to the ground. I didn’t want to risk animals feeding on them, or monkeys getting near them. I felt it was the safest thing to do.”

Joe indicated the supplies stacked on the ground. “We’ve brought fresh food and medical supplies. I’ll be back tomorrow, so let us know if you need anything else when you call in.”

Draden stepped back and saluted his friend and commanding officer. He had no idea what condition he would be in when he woke up in the evening. “It’s been an honor to serve with you, sir.”

Their GhostWalker unit didn’t stand on formality as a rule. They were different, and they would always be apart from society. They only had one another, so they were more friends than one having authority over the other unless it was military business. He felt it was important for Joe Spagnola to know how he felt about the man.

Joe looked stricken, but his back was ramrod stiff. “Fight, Draden. Trap and Wyatt and the others will work day and night to pull this off for you. You have to know that. And get some rest. You’re running on empty.”

That much was the truth. Draden shouldered the bags of supplies and made his way back to the ranger’s cabin. Shylah waited on the porch for him. The light hurt his eyes, but it didn’t matter. She looked beautiful there, waiting for him. His breath caught in his throat and he just stood at the bottom of the stairs staring up at her.

Her smile faltered. “Is something wrong?”

It was the absolute best question she could have asked. They were both infected with one of the worst viruses on earth and were sentenced to a horrific death, and she greeted him at the door, a smile on her face, and then asked if anything was wrong. What the hell kind of woman was she, and what had he ever done to deserve her? Nothing that he could think of, but it didn’t matter.

He was well aware he was weaving a fantasy around her, and she was doing the same around him. That didn’t matter either. If his arms weren’t filled with the supplies, he would have swooped her into them and carried her across the threshold.

“No, sweetheart. I think they sent us real food here. We’re not going to have to eat those nutritional”—he coughed a couple of times and made a show of clearing his throat—“rations Whitney sent you with.”

She laughed, just as he knew she would and then stepped back through the open door, allowing him entry. It was only then that he saw she had a rifle lying close to her thigh, out of sight when he’d first walked up.

“Who was that for? Me? Or Joe?”

“You I like. Joe, not so much.”

“He’s a good man, Shylah.”

“Maybe so, but that good man had a sniper in the tree just over your left shoulder. If the shooter made a move against you, he was dead. I let Mr. Badass sniper see he was in my sights.”

Draden didn’t like that. “Don’t risk yourself like that. I mean it, woman. He would have radioed to someone on the ground to cover you.”

“I would have gotten the shot off.”

He didn’t know whether to kiss her or yell at her. Since there was no use in yelling, and nothing to say because he would have done the same thing, he brushed a kiss along her temple as he slid past her and set the two bags of supplies on the floor beside the refrigerator.

“I’ll cook unless you really want to,” Shylah said. She pawed through the bags and then began to put the various items away. “I’d rather you rest.”


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