Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,117
ahead and sneer if you want, but I was hoping to learn more about how to use it.”
She kept her voice low and even to cover the lie. She felt bad lying to him—almost. She had no way of helping these people. And they’d kidnapped her.
Sean shook his head. “I read every single article you read. We went over and over the links you followed. We could almost feel your frustration when you ran into dead ends. You were looking for something besides the ability for natural healing.”
The little lightning flicks hit her again. She rubbed her temples. Rubin was seriously upset now that he knew who had kidnapped her. He wanted her to tell Sean who he was going to be dealing with.
She tapped out a big fat no. Rubin’s protection was in the fact that Sean was unaware of who Rubin was.
Rubin came right back at her. If she didn’t drop the bomb, he would do so himself—by contacting her telepathically so those listening in would hear.
Jonquille closed her eyes for a moment, feeling as if she were being forced to give Rubin up.
“Jonquille?” Sean persisted. “You were looking for something besides the ability for natural healing.”
Jonquille took her time before responding, breathing deeply in and out. She made certain she kept her facial expression exactly the same. She wasn’t about to give this man any intelligence on what she had been looking for. It was a pipe dream anyway. Maybe she should just come clean and tell him that. As far as she knew, no one could do what she had hoped—remove the psychic enhancements Whitney had put on them.
“I wasn’t nearly as clever in the laboratory as I thought I was,” she finally said. “All those months of research on lightning and healing. I thought I was very clever sneaking in under a different name.”
“You were, actually,” Sean agreed. “We caught you in a random security screening that we do on and off. We never tell anyone ahead of time, we just conduct them. Your prints matched, everything did. In fact, your profile was so impeccable I nearly passed it over, but then I looked at you again. Really looked at you. Those eyes. That hair. You’re very small. You look almost fragile. There’s no hiding you even in baggy clothes. I’d seen you in films countless times. Chandler had watched them over and over. I knew you were the same Jonquille from Whitney’s lab. You were either spying for him or for someone else.”
“I can see how you’d come to that conclusion,” Jonquille agreed noncommittally. “I’d never spy for Whitney. He could pull my fingernails out one by one. As for another country, that just would never happen. If I did get one thing out of being with that bastard, it was to love my country. So, no, I wasn’t spying. Just doing research and helping out someone who needed an assistant.”
“You say you were researching to learn natural healing to help those here in the mountains who refuse traditional medical aid because they don’t like outsiders,” Sean continued. “You aren’t from the Appalachian Mountains, so wouldn’t you be considered an outsider?”
Jonquille drew up her legs, promptly swatted another mosquito and then gave the men a faint apologetic smile. “I can take a bullet better than a bug bite. I detest them. There’s something about that silly bug chowing down on me.”
It was rather ironic playing such a girlie girl when she practically lived in the woods half the time—and Rubin called her Lightning Bug.
“Yes, to answer your questions, I would be considered an outsider and wouldn’t get in the front door, but fortunately, I have friends here and they introduced me. So far, I’ve been accepted and I count myself very lucky. The people I’ve met have been lovely.”
“You’re a research assistant for Colonel Rubin Campo. There isn’t much known about him other than that he is out in the field with his unit bringing back wounded. A colonel, no less. They say he actually goes to the hot spots and doesn’t have the others go, but then most of those in his unit are officers now, aren’t they? In fact, they get regular promotions quite often.”
There it was. Her opening. Her heart accelerated and she had to force it back under control. She refused to be the rabbit. She stayed mute, rubbing at her neck as though it itched. Fishing, Sean. You can do better. She didn’t blink.