Viper Game
Page 103
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Cayenne gasped. Hope leapt into her eyes. “You weren’t kidding. You really can get the cell unlocked.”
Trap didn’t bother to state the obvious. His hand closed over the third lock. It was more complicated in that along with the combination, one steel bolt slid right while two slid left. The key that unlocked the round, solid bolts would have made it much easier. He wasn’t feeling his best and the way she smelled was just a little bit too heady. She was disturbing his senses and playing tricks with his mind.
Every breath she took was like a breath of air drawn into his own lungs. He didn’t want this woman around anyone he knew. She was well aware she couldn’t play him, and that left her frustrated. She didn’t know that the closer he was to her, the harder it was to get her out of his mind.
He took refuge in the familiar logic of numbers, pushing her away, grateful he could. His world was one of reason and rationality. This woman was so far outside that realm, he didn’t know exactly where to place her – and that disturbed him – but he knew she was dangerous. Lethal even.
A part of him wanted to stop before he could open the third lock, but there was the male in him, the alpha that drove him to accept challenges and not back away from a fight. There was the GhostWalker that didn’t allow for one of their own to be left behind. This woman had been created, enhanced and then tossed aside. She’d had no life but that of a soldier. She knew little of the outside world, and he could tell she felt nothing but contempt for men. Who could blame her?
The worst of it was, he very well could have been like Whitney, pushing the envelope to see what he could do without asking whether or not he should, because some things were simply morally wrong. He always had to consciously remind himself of that. He kept emotion out of it, but still, he surrounded himself with others he admired, such as Wyatt, who knew right from wrong.
Wyatt, from the moment they met, had become somewhat of a moral compass for him. He’d cultivated the friendship deliberately, both because Wyatt had an amazing mind and a rivaling intelligence, but also because Trap knew he lacked the things Wyatt had. Trap was too controlled and needed to control everything and everyone around him. His world had to make sense. He didn’t fear much and he could be extremely violent when a situation called for it. Wyatt had always provided a way to judge his own morality and he’d been wise enough to allow himself to let the man fully into his world.
He wasn’t certain Cayenne knew the difference between right and wrong, but he wasn’t going to leave her there. The lock clicked free and he wrenched, first left and then right, destroying the bolts. He stood there a moment and lifted his gaze to hers. Her eyes went wide.
Chapter 17
The door to the cell swung open and Cayenne simply stood there, staring at Trap with her amazing green eyes, almost as if she couldn’t believe he had actually done what he said he would. He stepped back to give her room. She inhaled, drawing the first taste of freedom into her lungs. Still, she didn’t step out of the cell.
They stared at one another. Trap realized she was waiting for something. Long lashes veiled the expression in her eyes, but she appeared wary. He took another step back. There wasn’t a lot of room in the holding area, just enough for each of the three cell doors to swing open. He backed all the way against the elevator doors and held his hands away from his sides to show her he wasn’t armed.
The moment he moved, she thrust her palms outward and rushed toward him. Long thin strings of spun silk rained down on him, nearly smothering him. Within seconds he was wrapped up like a mummy from head to toe. She jumped back, flattening herself against the wall.
“If you really are who you say you are, then I’m sorry, but I can’t take a chance. I’ve been experimented on enough for twenty lifetimes. I made certain the wrappings were loose enough that you should be able to get out of them.”
Trap glared at her. Beneath the silken filaments, he splayed his fingers wide. He was a man who rarely felt strong emotion, but now, it ran through him like an erupting volcano. Hot blood surged through his veins. His gut churned with absolute fury. He’d risked his life to help this woman and she was leaving him tied up like a chicken for the soldiers to find?
She gasped, and he knew she saw the killer in him for the first time. His cat sprang forward, all roped muscle and sinew, sharp claws, ripping through the silken cords as if they weren’t even there. In a fury the beast in him shredded the strings into tiny pieces. She turned and sprang for the wall. He sprang after her.
Trap was on her before she could get up to the ceiling, not that it would have done her any good. He was cat, and he could jump and leap long distances. He dragged her to him and she turned her head, her small white teeth heading straight for his arm.
“Don’t.” A single word. A command. He bit it out between his own teeth, his fingers tightening around her throat. She stilled, her incredible green eyes moving over his face. “I’ll fucking kill you if you bite me. It will take me one second to snap your neck and whatever venom you have in you won’t be that fast acting. Don’t think for a minute I won’t.”
They stared at each other, both in a fury. “Do it then,” she challenged him. “They’re going to kill me anyway.”
“I’m trying to help you, but you’re not quite bright, are you?” Trap didn’t like the fact that her body registered with his. He was suddenly too aware of her shape. Of her soft skin. Of the fact that she was every bit as lethal as he was.
Trap didn’t bother to state the obvious. His hand closed over the third lock. It was more complicated in that along with the combination, one steel bolt slid right while two slid left. The key that unlocked the round, solid bolts would have made it much easier. He wasn’t feeling his best and the way she smelled was just a little bit too heady. She was disturbing his senses and playing tricks with his mind.
Every breath she took was like a breath of air drawn into his own lungs. He didn’t want this woman around anyone he knew. She was well aware she couldn’t play him, and that left her frustrated. She didn’t know that the closer he was to her, the harder it was to get her out of his mind.
He took refuge in the familiar logic of numbers, pushing her away, grateful he could. His world was one of reason and rationality. This woman was so far outside that realm, he didn’t know exactly where to place her – and that disturbed him – but he knew she was dangerous. Lethal even.
A part of him wanted to stop before he could open the third lock, but there was the male in him, the alpha that drove him to accept challenges and not back away from a fight. There was the GhostWalker that didn’t allow for one of their own to be left behind. This woman had been created, enhanced and then tossed aside. She’d had no life but that of a soldier. She knew little of the outside world, and he could tell she felt nothing but contempt for men. Who could blame her?
The worst of it was, he very well could have been like Whitney, pushing the envelope to see what he could do without asking whether or not he should, because some things were simply morally wrong. He always had to consciously remind himself of that. He kept emotion out of it, but still, he surrounded himself with others he admired, such as Wyatt, who knew right from wrong.
Wyatt, from the moment they met, had become somewhat of a moral compass for him. He’d cultivated the friendship deliberately, both because Wyatt had an amazing mind and a rivaling intelligence, but also because Trap knew he lacked the things Wyatt had. Trap was too controlled and needed to control everything and everyone around him. His world had to make sense. He didn’t fear much and he could be extremely violent when a situation called for it. Wyatt had always provided a way to judge his own morality and he’d been wise enough to allow himself to let the man fully into his world.
He wasn’t certain Cayenne knew the difference between right and wrong, but he wasn’t going to leave her there. The lock clicked free and he wrenched, first left and then right, destroying the bolts. He stood there a moment and lifted his gaze to hers. Her eyes went wide.
Chapter 17
The door to the cell swung open and Cayenne simply stood there, staring at Trap with her amazing green eyes, almost as if she couldn’t believe he had actually done what he said he would. He stepped back to give her room. She inhaled, drawing the first taste of freedom into her lungs. Still, she didn’t step out of the cell.
They stared at one another. Trap realized she was waiting for something. Long lashes veiled the expression in her eyes, but she appeared wary. He took another step back. There wasn’t a lot of room in the holding area, just enough for each of the three cell doors to swing open. He backed all the way against the elevator doors and held his hands away from his sides to show her he wasn’t armed.
The moment he moved, she thrust her palms outward and rushed toward him. Long thin strings of spun silk rained down on him, nearly smothering him. Within seconds he was wrapped up like a mummy from head to toe. She jumped back, flattening herself against the wall.
“If you really are who you say you are, then I’m sorry, but I can’t take a chance. I’ve been experimented on enough for twenty lifetimes. I made certain the wrappings were loose enough that you should be able to get out of them.”
Trap glared at her. Beneath the silken filaments, he splayed his fingers wide. He was a man who rarely felt strong emotion, but now, it ran through him like an erupting volcano. Hot blood surged through his veins. His gut churned with absolute fury. He’d risked his life to help this woman and she was leaving him tied up like a chicken for the soldiers to find?
She gasped, and he knew she saw the killer in him for the first time. His cat sprang forward, all roped muscle and sinew, sharp claws, ripping through the silken cords as if they weren’t even there. In a fury the beast in him shredded the strings into tiny pieces. She turned and sprang for the wall. He sprang after her.
Trap was on her before she could get up to the ceiling, not that it would have done her any good. He was cat, and he could jump and leap long distances. He dragged her to him and she turned her head, her small white teeth heading straight for his arm.
“Don’t.” A single word. A command. He bit it out between his own teeth, his fingers tightening around her throat. She stilled, her incredible green eyes moving over his face. “I’ll fucking kill you if you bite me. It will take me one second to snap your neck and whatever venom you have in you won’t be that fast acting. Don’t think for a minute I won’t.”
They stared at each other, both in a fury. “Do it then,” she challenged him. “They’re going to kill me anyway.”
“I’m trying to help you, but you’re not quite bright, are you?” Trap didn’t like the fact that her body registered with his. He was suddenly too aware of her shape. Of her soft skin. Of the fact that she was every bit as lethal as he was.
