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She laughed. “I’m something. I’d better get downstairs, Malichai. I still have a job to do. And just in case those people have hired someone other than your friend to do us all in, I’ve got weapons stashed from one end of this house to the other. I don’t take chances either. I’m not so easy to kill.”

He was very certain she was telling the truth.

“You can do your walk-through and hopefully figure out what’s bothering you.”

“You don’t feel a threat at all?” Malichai asked. “Anything to raise your radar?”

She shook her head. “No. I just feel you. Maybe you short-circuited my warning system, in which case, there’s no more . . . um . . . sex . . . until we’re somewhere where we don’t need a warning system.”

“We’re always going to need one,” he protested.

She shrugged. “Well, I’m sorry then. No more sex for you.” She stood up and acted as if she was going to walk right past him.

Malichai reached out and caught her, pulling her into his body and closing his arms around her, locking her to him. “I’m afraid that’s a total no-go. Sex is going to be right up there with breathing, baby, so you’ll have to learn to keep the radar system in place.”

“I think you’ve permanently damaged it,” she said, looking up at him.

He kissed her. There was no looking down at that upturned mouth and not kissing her. His warning system might work fine, but his ability to stop kissing her was put to the test. He loved the way she tasted. The fire in her mouth. The passion that matched his. When he was finally able to come to his senses, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Listen, baby. Generally, when I have this vague feeling, it means a threat is headed my way, not that it’s here. It means it’s close. I just can’t shake the feeling, so I want you to be extra cautious. If you have to leave the house, let me know. Or let one of my brothers know.”

“I figured if you took the time out to have sex and then a long talk about Starks, the threat couldn’t be imminent,” she said. “I wish I felt it too, Malichai.”

He shrugged and straightened, reluctant to leave her, but knowing he really needed to do a walk-through before everyone else was up. “Promise me, Amaryllis. Had I known that Starks had gotten anywhere near you, let alone the things you’ve told me, I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”

A small frown crossed her face. She did that little nervous thing, stroking the pads of her fingers down her throat as if it ached. He stiffened.

“Babe. Starks. Did he choke you?” If he had, the man was dead. Malichai was going to hunt him down and kill him. He didn’t care if that meant going directly after Whitney and starting an all-out war with him. Half of those in the White House would support the hunt. The other half would probably sanction Malichai’s death.

She studied his face. “Honey, I don’t want to discuss Starks anymore. He gives me nightmares. Let’s just say, he made me so afraid I found the courage to leave and I did it in a smart enough way that I had a good start and could get out in front of them when they came hunting me.”

Yeah, the bastard had choked her. Malichai pushed down anger and forced himself to nod. Amaryllis was far too perceptive. Just as he was able to read her, she was able to read him. She knew, if she admitted what Starks had done, Malichai would go hunting. He didn’t need her confirmation. He’d gone on two missions with Starks. One had been enough to know his character. Two had shown all of them that Starks would put a bullet in their heads if it in any way benefited him. The man was certifiable.

Malichai followed Amaryllis out of the room. The hallways were dimly lit. Just enough light spilled from the ceiling to allow anyone to see where they were going. The lights weren’t so bright that if doors were opened it would disturb guests sleeping in the rooms. She headed toward the kitchen while he turned to make his way down the long hall.

There were twelve mini-suites on the first floor. He knew the layouts and the names of each of those staying in those rooms. He caught the muffled sounds of snores coming from several of the rooms. That was to be expected. He was looking for something that might jar. A single note, anything that would make the knots in his gut either relax or tighten more.

He was a GhostWalker, so he moved like a wraith down the long, snaking hallway. It wasn’t straight, so he couldn’t see all the way to the end. The dim light cast enough shadows that he was able to disappear into them. Someone was stirring in the dolphin room.


Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal