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“Justice,” Shaker said. “It isn’t the same.”

“Revenge if you’re willing to murder innocents, Shaker,” Camellia pointed out. “What does killing children have to do with what you believe happened to your brother? I don’t understand that at all.”

“Ryland Miller has to suffer.”

“Yet he’ll be dead and his wife and child alive,” Camellia said. “And what about Team Two? They had nothing at all to do with it. Why include them?”

“They’ll hunt us,” Angel answered. “You have to be with us, Camellia. This is your chance. You can’t want to be with him, knowing what he did. Jonas Harper is a monster.”

“You’re going off one report that makes no sense. Those are men of honor, and yet not one of them behaved honorably, according to the story you just told. Before all of you throw away your lives like this, shouldn’t you investigate what happened a little bit more? Don’t you owe it to yourselves?” Camellia felt as if she was pleading for all of their lives. For their honor as well. “Angel, you and Shaker seem like good men. You have to know this isn’t the right thing to do. At least take a little more time and make sure you’re right.”

Jeff groaned again. How could they have gotten ahold of my nightmare? I didn’t talk to a shrink about it. I didn’t even talk to Lily about it, not even when she asked me.

I remember when you weren’t sleeping, Kyle said. I asked you about it.

We talked, Jonas said. You told me you were having nightmares and what they were about. You don’t have any reason to feel as if any of this is your fault.

You saved my life that day, Jonas. He was your friend. You loved him like a brother. If you hadn’t been there, I’d be dead. I was the one who forced you to make a choice. Jeff’s voice was filled with pain and regret.

Camellia found the entire exchange heartbreaking. She realized, in part, why Jonas hadn’t explained more to her with the two men so close. The explanation was very personal to Jeff. He blamed himself. He was blaming himself even more now. She supposed it was human nature to take on guilt for things it was impossible to control.

No one forced me to make a choice, Jeff, Jonas said flatly. I’ve never been forced to do anything in my life. My choices are my own, and I stand by them, even if they might be difficult to make.

I was there that day, Kyle said. We all were. Oliver would have killed a lot of us before he was through. He was out of his mind. If anyone was to blame, it was Whitney.

“You need to choose whose side you’re on, Camellia,” Angel hissed, his voice a thread of sound, as if he were hiding it from those below. “Choose now.”

They’d run out of time. There was no more negotiating and no finding out more information. Shaker was going to make his move against Jonas.

19

Camellia couldn’t help Jonas. She didn’t know exactly where he was in the dense fog. Like her, he was capable of disappearing into it. Pops and Lowell, the two men hunting him, had climbed up onto one of the helicopters. She had the vague impression of each of them through the droplets of mist, but she couldn’t let herself be distracted by trying to figure out what they were doing. Jeff, up in the tree, and Kyle, lying on the forest floor, were most at risk.

They’re going to attack, she warned the others and turned her attention first to Angel. She wanted to be able to keep her entire focus on Jeff and Kyle and not worry whether Angel was going to attack her the moment she turned her back.

She called on the mycelium network, bringing her weapons close to the surface. Mushrooms began to push through the forest floor, shoving aside the dirt and leaves. Rotting vegetation gave way to bright capped heads and subdued tanned ones. Several blackened cones pushed through the leaves to sit among the rocks and downed trunks. Little mushrooms sprouted on the living tree trunks as well as those that had fallen years earlier.

“Don’t do this, Angel,” Camellia pleaded. She let the fog drift around her. Let him catch glimpses of her. She sat on a flattened boulder, one hand planted firmly to give her the ability to push off.

“You’re either with us or against us, Camellia,” he reiterated. “Loyalty is everything.” He leveled a gun at her. “Make your choice.”

“Clearly, you made yours.”

The jerk on his ankles was extremely hard, taking him to the ground and destroying his aim at the same time. His legs became completely tangled in thick fibers made of natural polymers created from the fungi running beneath the soil. The long ropes of fibrous material tightened the loops wrapped around his ankles and legs as more and more snaked out of the ground like the arms of an octopus. He tried to roll and, at the same time, squeezed off several hasty shots at her.


Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal