Lightning forked in the bottom of the clouds, a jagged, hot, sizzling display, leaping from cloud to cloud overhead. Rubin noted where the enemy lay flat in the grass, using his toes and elbows to push forward, working his way toward an animal tunnel that would take him to thicker brush cover.
The ground ten feet away crackled with electrical energy, and he saw the white glow in the brush as Jonquille continued to run forward. Heat burst around him. Then she was still, lifting her arms wide, throwing them forward toward the meadow where their enemy had flattened, making himself small.
Thunder rolled, a deep booming drumbeat straight over their heads. All the while those lightning forks glowed and crackled ominously in the dark clouds above them. Bright spinning luminescent yellow spheres of various sizes surrounded by bluish-white halos dropped straight from the sky to rain on the meadow. Some seemed to detonate, while others traveled parallel to the ground. A few bounced low. All lasted longer than the brief flashes of lightning bolts, but at the most, ten to twelve seconds.
He’s not moving. He’s down, Diego reported.
Don’t approach him, Rubin cautioned. He’s a wily opponent. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still alive and has some kind of killing bite or a way to shoot poison into one of us. Let’s just wait until we see what he’s going to do.
Rubin came up beside his brother and crouched low, not taking his eyes off their prey. The squirrel man was lying facedown in the grass, unmoving. Rubin didn’t take his gaze off the man. Both he and Diego could be utterly still for hours. He had no doubt that their enemy could as well, but he was wounded and he had been losing blood—a lot of it. He might not have the time to pretend.
Jonquille? She should have been right there beside him.
There was a moment of hesitancy. His heart did a funny little hitch.
Be there in a minute.
His heart resumed beating normally, although she didn’t feel normal. He couldn’t take his gaze from their enemy long enough to look behind him to find her. I need to know if you’re doing all right, sweetheart.
Diego spoke for the first time. Jonquille, you have to tell us the truth. If using your gift tires you out, we need to know so we can take steps to protect you when we ask you to use it. We’re a team and we work together. We’ll do the same, let you know when we need you to take our backs.
Like that’s ever going to happen.
It happens all the time, Diego said. We go into combat. We get shot. There are accidents.
Rubin took over. You seem to have a very big problem with the fact that you’re the first-generation GhostWalker and we’re the fourth. Team One, Ryland’s team, is every bit as respected among the GhostWalkers as Team Four. We don’t look at each other’s psychic gifts and put one ahead of the other either. Or we shouldn’t. Diego is a little arrogant because he thinks he’s a hotshot tracker with mad skills, but now that you’re with us, his status is in jeopardy.
The man on the ground was definitely becoming much harder to see. The clouds had darkened. The electrical activity had died down, leaving behind very black clouds that were drifting away on the wind. The light from the moon came only in strange patterned tears like rips, streaks of thin stripes when the thick cloud formations parted just enough to allow a small beam to escape and slash across the ground. In a way, the streaks looked like a giant claw had ripped at the grass, tearing at it and leaving it blackened and torn in the wake of a massive cat taking its aggression out on the world.
Rubin thought in terms of a predatory animal. The man sprawled out on the ground didn’t remind him of prey, not even now, when he should have been dead. He hadn’t been struck by any of the lightning bolts or the plasma spheres—but he had been shot.
Can you tell if he is bleeding, Diego? Fresh blood. That would indicate he’s alive.
He fell covering that side.
How convenient. More and more, Rubin was convinced their quarry was not dead and that he was just as lethal now, if not more than he had been. Don’t approach him. I’ve got a bad feeling about him. Remember Whitney’s last experiments? All of the women could inject lethal poisons. We don’t know what this man is capable of. I don’t believe he’s dead. He may have been stunned for a few minutes, but he isn’t dead.
He isn’t dead, Jonquille confirmed. She sounded a little stronger, but she wasn’t closer to them. I can feel him. He’s very aware of us. Of me in particular.
Rubin didn’t like the sound of that. What do you mean, of you in particular? Are you connected to him in some way? Did Whitney connect you? Pair you? There was sharp demand in his mind. Even anger, when he wasn’t an angry man.
Mellow out, Rubin. How could she possibly know the answer to that? Diego said. I’d like to tell you he’s sane most of the time, Jonquille, but since he’s never been crazy over a woman before, I have nothing to go by. Judging by his behavior with you, I don’t think there’s much hope that he is.
Jonquille’s soft laughter sounded like music, a breath of fresh air, clearing out the dark stirrings of strange jealousy that had crept into Rubin’s mind unbidden, striking such a discordant and unnatural note.
It doesn’t feel like a pairing, Jonquille mused, after a moment. But he’s tuned specifically to me. That device he used was to draw me out. You weren’t supposed to be here for another three or four weeks. If Whitney sent him to get me, why now? Why bring me in all of a sudden after all this time? That would mean the retrieval team is after me, not you.
It was impossible not to catch the worry in her voice. Jonquille had thought of herself as being flawed, and because of that she was off of Whitney’s radar. He shouldn’t want her back. If Whitney had sent a team of very sophisticated supersoldiers after her, he meant business. He wouldn’t risk his multimillion-dollar high-tech soldiers for the return of one flawed orphan experiment that had gone seriously wrong. She might be imperfect and a mess, but she was still lethal. Why risk his elite soldiers?
Rubin, none of this is making any sense. You and Diego should back off. This might be some elaborate trap. Diego? Can you sense anyone else near? Rubin? We’ve been concentrating on this man. Is it possible he’s the bait? We’re exposed out here just like he is.
Jonquille had a point. Not one thing about this squirrel man made sense. None of his actions did, unless he was deliberately holding their attention. They hadn’t spotted him immediately. Rubin hadn’t known he was there until the elk had been so nervous.
Diego, slide back into the thickest brush. Once you’re under cover, no one can spot or track you. Take a look around and see if he’s alone. Lightning Bug and I will be sitting ducks waiting for you to get back to us, so don’t fall asleep on the job.
Diego didn’t argue, although Rubin felt his reluctance. His brother slipped away, a silent wraith, moving quietly so he wouldn’t disturb the insects or wildlife. Rubin didn’t dare take his gaze from the man lying supposedly dead not thirty feet away.
Are you feeling any better, woman?
I thought it was Lightning Bug.
He let his laughter slip into her mind. You can produce superb lightning. I was very impressed. I could use another pair of eyes on this character, although I’m beginning to think maybe we need to watch each other’s backs.
I’m watching your back, she assured. I’ve got a bad feeling that man is faking it to keep us right where we are.