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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“You’re fearless, aren’t you?” He hesitated a minute. “You’re very good, Shylah. I ran right at you, and very few things get past me when I’m in hunting mode. I didn’t see you until I was practically on top of you.”

“You thought about killing me. I saw it on your face.”

“Then why didn’t you kill me immediately?” He looked as if he might shake her.

“We clearly were on the same team. You killed over a dozen of the bastards and I wasn’t about to reward you by killing you. They deserved it.” She kept her voice mild, but she felt very strongly about it. The moment she had spotted him, moving like a deadly shadow from guard to guard, to the commander’s house, the little infirmary, everything in her rose up to protect him. He had been magnificent. He had done what she wanted to do.

Her orders were clear. Find her targets and take them out. She couldn’t deviate from that, not even to retaliate against the Milisi Separatis Sumatra, no matter how much she wanted to. Personal retribution wasn’t allowed, not when the stakes were so high. “Why didn’t you? You could have killed me. You jumped right over me.”

He’d cleared her by several feet and had done it with ease. He hadn’t even been breathing that hard. She could run, not like Zara had been able to, but she could run when she had to. He’d made it look easy.

Draden turned away from her, staring down at his machine. “You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

When he said things like that so casually, he stole little pieces of her heart. No one had ever talked to her like that. She had freckles. That was girl-next-door, not beautiful. She wasn’t exotic, a real beauty, like Zara, or tiny and perfect like Bellisia. She thought of herself as gangly, all arms and legs. For the longest time she was a string, thin and long with a mop of wild, untamable hair and eyes too big for her face. Her skin was so white she probably blinded people if she showed her tummy, and then there was always the freckles. No amount of makeup was going to cover them up completely, so she didn’t bother trying.

It had taken forever for her to get any kind of a figure, a butt and breasts. They came late in her teens, very late. Now, she couldn’t complain, but she’d been lying in the dirt on her belly, partially covered with debris and plants. She could lie still for hours, so still, the surrounding wildlife eventually crawled or slithered over her as well. Creepy, crawly things normally left her alone and very few spooked her.

“I’m ready. Let’s go get some sleep,” Draden announced, before she could reply to his compliment.

She didn’t really know what to say. Being attracted to him was out of her field of expertise. He held out his hand to her as they went out the door and without thinking she took it. His fingers instantly closed around hers. He was strong, but careful. He didn’t crush her, but instead, folded her hand with his snug around it, to his chest. He held it as if her hand was the most treasured thing he possessed.

It was silly to feel a thrill just at hand-holding, but it was a new experience for her. It was clear Draden liked taking her hand and walking close to her. She hadn’t thought she would like it; before no one ever touched her, or they’d find themselves on the floor, but it was totally different with Draden.

“I love the night.” She looked around her. So much of the day had already passed. She should have forced him to go to sleep earlier. He looked very tired, and his skin color was off and he was very clammy. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead. She had the feeling he was standing from sheer will. Alarm skittered down her spine. She didn’t want to lose him. More, she didn’t want to be the one to put a bullet in his head. She would—for mercy—but everything in her rebelled against it. She forced air through her lungs. “Darkness falls fast in the forest.”

Night creatures were beginning to stir. Owls flitted from tree to tree, looking for a perfect place to wait out their prey. Rodents and lizards scurried in the thick vegetation, rustling leaves as they sought food. The frogs called, and the cicadas sang. To Shylah, there was harmony in the forest’s song—it was rich and teeming with life.

“I believe you’d like where I live,” Draden said. “Louisiana is beautiful. I don’t think a lot of people appreciate it for what it is. The people have had to carve out their livings under difficult conditions, but for most of them, it’s been worth it.”



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