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Jonas had most likely believed his “danger sense” was one of many other mammalian or reptilian attributes Whitney had enhanced him with. When he realized none of the other GhostWalkers were aware of danger as early as he was, he had to have figured out that Whitney had given him something the others didn’t have. Something more, when he was already contending with enough.

She suppressed a sigh. She didn’t want to feel compassion for him. She wanted to sever all connection to him and make a run for it without feeling the least bit guilty. Instead, she was already remembering every word Whitney had said about these first soldiers and how they were going to be able to go undetected behind enemy lines and wipe out entire camps without anyone ever knowing they had been there. He had designed them for perfection. They weren’t going to be the failures the women had been, because men were steadier and had better nervous systems and were so much stronger than women.

Whitney lectured the women, telling them he had bumped up the soldiers’ levels of aggression and enhanced their abilities to see and hear in any situation. They were perfect killing machines. He had bragged to them until he realized the soldiers were having the same problems as the women, some of them unable to go out on their own without severe repercussions.

It was the first time Camellia had ever seen Whitney thrown, if only for a short time. He was furious with the soldiers but soon turned the blame on the women. Somehow, it was their fault Whitney hadn’t prepared for the problems the soldiers faced. She knew some of the other women had taken his accusations to heart; by that time, thankfully, most of them knew better.

Camellia needed to change the subject, to steer it away from the things Jonas wanted to know and anything she might learn about him that would put more compassion in her heart. Already she melted each time she looked at him or heard his voice. She didn’t need to know things about him that would make him more amenable to overlooking his reaction to her.

“There was another girl I grew up with, Laurel. She was very quiet. Dark red hair and the greenest eyes you ever saw. Whitney named her after the English laurel, which is often called the cherry laurel. She had that dark red hair and did when she was a baby, so I guess all that hair reminded him of a cherry laurel.”

She waited, trying not to hold her breath or give any indication that finding out about the women meant everything to her. She didn’t want him to have anything to hold over her. Whitney was good at finding weaknesses and exploiting them. Growing up together, the girls had inevitably formed attachments to one another, and Whitney used those feelings against them as a means of manipulation, punishment and control. She was determined that no one would ever do that to her again.

Jonas shook his head with obvious regret. “I’m sorry, Camellia. I wish I could say I knew where she was, but I haven’t heard anything at all. I would think if Whitney had managed to get her back, we would have heard something. We do have a way of spying on him. We have to be very cautious, but if he had one of the women from that first group, we would know.”

If she could believe him, and he seemed certain, at least Laurel was still safe, even if no one knew where she was. Like Camellia, she’d found a place to hide.

“You said that your people were able to keep Whitney from tracking the dust particle trackers in our tattoos? Laurel has one on her ankle as well. It’s beautiful, with glossy leaves and clusters of cherries. She would have found the tracker in her hip and removed it, like I did. We all suspected Whitney had implanted us with microchips.” She pushed her hand through her hair. “Maybe she thought of her tattoo. I didn’t, but she may have.” Camellia doubted it. She was the least trusting of the women, and it hadn’t occurred to her that the one thing Whitney gave her that she loved was just as poisonous as all his other “gifts.” She should have known.

“From what I understand, he isn’t able to use that tracking system to find any of you women anymore, at least not most of the time. I’ll find out more information for you,” Jonas promised.

She wasn’t going to stick around to find out more information. The moment he headed back down the mountain with his friends, she was leaving. She’d planned for an escape. She had already decided on a destination if she had to leave. Middlemist Red would travel with her. The rest of the exotics would stay behind with the mycelium grid to buy them as much time as possible if anyone tried to follow them.


Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal