Home > Lethal Game The queen of paranormal romance(81)

Lethal Game The queen of paranormal romance(81)
Author: Christine Feehan

“She’s under the weight. Axel is just the weight.” Reluctantly, she transferred the baby very carefully into Trap’s arms.

Immediately, the little girl’s eyes opened. Malichai wanted to point out the intelligence there, but he was certain he didn’t have to. Trap would see it. How could he not? He watched Trap swallow hard and then his eyes misted over. He smiled down at his daughter.

“There you are, sweetheart. You are like your mother. Quiet and lethal, and very strong. That’s the highest compliment I can pay you.” He leaned toward Cayenne. “Kiss me, baby. I know you’re upset with good reason, but I’m not being this way because I don’t love this little one. She’s tiny, and I’m afraid of crushing her. Kiss me, Cayenne.”

Cayenne, always, always, gave Trap anything he wanted when he wanted it. She shocked Malichai by hesitating. She really was upset with her man. There were beautiful lacy webs hanging around their bed, giving them privacy, but the ones she’d woven around the portable units had been taken down by a nurse and Trap hadn’t protested.

She glanced at Malichai and he put Axel into her arms, lifted a hand and made his way upstairs to the lounge to wait for Amaryllis to finish up in the kitchen. Life was complex with another human being. Trap and Cayenne were made for each other, were perfect for each other and yet there were still complications and misunderstandings. Where did that leave him with Amaryllis? He didn’t know the first thing about relationships, and neither did she.

As he took a seat in the lounge, Billy Leven came in, looked around and took the chair closest to him. Billy had definitely bugged the room where the representative for Ideas for Peace from Egypt was going to stay. Marie had made a sudden room change, due to the fact that the GhostWalkers needed the room. She’d placed Draden and Shylah there, stating she’d messed up the bookings, that the couple were supposed to get the larger suite. The suite had been thoroughly cleaned again and the bug was swept away. Most likely Billy had been the source of the bug that had been found in Malichai’s room as well.

Marie had acted agitated and then let it slip that Jacy needed more medical attention and she was going to have to leave. Everyone understood. She’d hired more help so Amaryllis wouldn’t be the only one working long hours with the bed-and-breakfast completely full.

“Your leg hurting again?” Billy asked, sounding mournful.

Malichai had noticed he often sounded as if the world were coming to an end. “A little. I overdid the physical therapy. I’m used to training hard and pushing myself. I guess it’s not the best thing for me.”

“Now that I’ve got you alone”—Billy lowered his voice to a conspirator’s level—“what the hell happened? One minute everything was fine, then you came home in a Navy ambulance and then your friend’s wife went into labor . . .”

Malichai shrugged casually. “That’s about it. That’s what happened. I was shot multiple times and the bone was shattered in multiple places. For some reason it just doesn’t want to heal. The bone fragmented and I went down. The Navy guys had a van, not an ambulance, and they got me. They were friends of my friend, the one visiting me. His wife was pregnant but not due for another month. While everyone was trying to figure out what to do with my problem, she suddenly not only went into labor but skyrocketed to delivery. There was no moving her to a hospital and Trap has enough money to buy and sell several planets, so he just set up a hospital right here.”

“That’s why he has all those guards downstairs,” Billy said. “He’s rich.”

Malichai had to hide his smile. It was clear he’d tried to go down to the basement to spy. He was a very curious man and wanted to know what was going on throughout the inn. “They mean business too. Trap takes the security of his wife and children very seriously. As soon as they can, he’ll get them out of here.”

“He didn’t come for that peace conference?”

“No, he came to see me. I don’t get away that often and he thought he’d take the opportunity. I didn’t come for it either. I came to see Amaryllis.”

“How did you get your leg all shot up?” Billy asked.

Malichai almost dismissed him out of hand, the way he did anyone asking, but something in Billy’s voice stopped him. It was more than mere morbid curiosity. It was important to the man to know. Malichai was very certain Billy was mixed up with Callendine, and for some reason knowing what happened was critical to the man.

“I can’t give you specifics because it’s classified, but I was on a rescue mission. Two of us went in and patched up the real heroes as best we could, but our mission was to take out the heavy guns that were preventing our helicopters from making the pickup. There were a lot of guns. We went in at night and took out a slew of them. Thought we got them all. We didn’t realize they had a replacement crew coming in that morning.”

He rubbed his thigh. It hurt like a bitch. Before it had taken days and a lot of activity before the pain reached this level. He would bet his last dollar that when Amaryllis went in to look, there would be more hairline fractures.

“They pinned us down when we tried to take the boys up to the rendezvous point. Something had to be done, so I charged the guns and hurtled a few grenades. Shockingly, I survived my idiot charge and started back. The helicopters were already landing, and my partner was helping the wounded to the site. A machine gun opened fire and took me down, by painting a permanent zipper right up the side of my leg.”

Just talking about it made his leg hurt even worse. He smelled the gunpowder. The stench of blood and death. Heard the beat of the helicopter rotors. The bark of Rubin’s gun. So precise. So deadly. The pain of his shattered bone. It felt shattered all over again.

“You’re still in the service,” Billy said, respect in his voice.

“I’ll always be a soldier,” Malichai said.

“Someone called you ‘doc.’ Said you were a doctor when I asked.”

Malichai shrugged. “I’m a soldier and, yes, I’m a doctor because when I go out into the field to see to a wounded soldier, I want to be able to send him home to his wife and family, not his body in a bag, so yeah, I went to school.”

“I was in the service as well. Army. Lot of years ago, but Recon. Best years. Good men. A few friends stayed in and they’ve made great careers for themselves. I should have done that, but my wife was sick, and she needed me at home.”

“I’m sorry, Billy, that’s tough. I would have gotten out too. Is it okay if I ask—”

“She didn’t make it. She had cancer. She lingered for a long time. Three years, and I spent every day with her and am grateful for each of them. But she died and I’ve been alone since. I spend a lot of time with my online buddies, and my cousins, Tania and Tommy.” He scratched his head. “With all this medical crap going on, you probably missed the hit man story going around.”

Malichai lifted an eyebrow. “Hit man?” He sounded skeptical. Inside he was triumphant.

“Yeah, it was in all the papers. Apparently, a local businessman, a stand-up guy by all accounts, churchgoing, had a wife and kids, was a hit man. But someone offed him. The cops arrested another man, accusing him of being a hit man—”

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