Toxic Game (GhostWalkers #15) - Christine Feehan Page 0,46

his forehead, that strong jaw and aristocratic nose. He was breathtaking. More, he looked at her as if he thought she was beautiful and someone to respect, even admire.

“That isn’t true, Shylah, not anymore. You’re here with me because you chose to save my life and in doing that, the virus got a foothold in you. I want to take your blood. I’ve already taken mine. They’ll be able to see how advanced the virus is in each of us. While I’m explaining this, I may as well take your blood and get started.”

“I thought you didn’t like needles.” She stepped back, rubbing her arm for no reason at all other than anticipation.

He flashed her a grin that made butterflies take flight in her stomach, and her sex actually fluttered. She ignored that and sent up a silent prayer he had stayed out of her mind. He didn’t need to know he sent her body into meltdown mode.

“I detest them, but we need this done.” He took her arm, his touch so gentle it turned her heart over.

“I’m okay with you taking my blood.” Shylah felt as if she had to reassure him. He was such a mixture, tough as nails and lethal, but with her, unfailingly a gentleman, tender and sweet, looking out for her so carefully. She knew he was more upset that she had the virus and was all but condemned to death than that he shared that same fate.

His gaze flicked from her arm to her face, his eyes smiling. His mouth curved, and that combination of eyes and lips set her heart pounding and her sex pulsing with need all over again. “The thing about that blood I was examining is that the virus didn’t attach to the surface of the protein cell as it should have. I checked it multiple times. I read their notes on it. I’ve only examined two of the samples and a different virus was used in each case. The virus wasn’t able to attach to the surface of the cell.”

He deftly pulled the needle from her arm. She hadn’t felt it go in.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not certain, because I don’t know where the blood came from. Does the P stand for prisoner? X1 and X2 usually would mean times one or times two, but that doesn’t make any sense. In their notes, all three men refer to the blood they’re testing as belonging to P-001 and then indicating times one up to five. Each was studying the blood separately from the other, so this particular GhostWalker was important to them.”

“How would they get blood from one of you?”

“Shylah.”

The way he said her name made her heart pound. Her body went instantly still, as if he were a predator and every cell in her told her she needed to go into prey mode and find a way to hide. She refused. She lifted her chin and faced him, not willing to be a victim. This death was her choice and she’d made it because of this man. She wouldn’t hide anything from him because he refused to hide from her.

“What is it that I’m not getting?”

“I think this blood is yours. The P is for Peony. I think they were studying it because, aside from the obvious, something in you is quite extraordinary.”

She had to get past the “aside from the obvious.” In the middle of a discussion on why three maniacs considered her blood worth spending copious amounts of time studying, she couldn’t very well encourage him to tell her what about her was so obviously extraordinary.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” She didn’t want to know. Her breath felt as though it was trapped in her lungs and she couldn’t reach the air.

For the first time, when he was discussing anything to do with the virus, his expressionless mask slipped and excitement and interest slid over his perfect masculine features, enhancing them even more. “Joe will be picking all this up and taking it to Trap. He’ll be able to make sense of this. He’ll have their notes, but it looks to me like they began developing stronger and stronger viruses in order to infect you. The viruses they designed were specifically targeting each individual. Bellisia and Zara could be infected. You couldn’t. At least the viruses they tried in those samples didn’t work.”

Shylah frowned at him. “I was aware Whitney had the Williams brothers and Orucov design viruses to kill each of us. That’s the reason