There was a small silence. The GhostWalkers exchanged long looks. “I thought you’d already recovered the research,” Nicolas said. “Why would these people be coming after you if they still had it?”

“Well, they don’t have it. Halfway into the mission, I realized it was a setup. I knew they were dangling bait, false bait—I’d read the original data the professors had before they were murdered. A few days earlier, when I was scouting the building, I thought I recognized one of the men on the same floor where I’d been told the data was. It nagged at me that I’d seen him before somewhere, but I couldn’t place him. I’d already broken in and had accessed the computer and I skimmed the report and realized it was a fake. That triggered my memory of the man. He’d been a student at the university, just walking by in the hall outside of one of the professor’s offices. He had glanced inside the door, and that attracted my attention. He didn’t turn his head in any obvious way, but I knew he was looking in. People just don’t do that ordinarily, so he stuck in my mind.”

Gator rubbed his head. “I’m confused, Dahlia. You spotted this same man in the building where you were scouting to break in?”

She nodded. “But I didn’t place him. It’s been a year since I was at the university taking a look at the documents.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t apologize. Most people wouldn’t have noticed him, let alone recognized him a year later.”

“Well, it would have been a lot safer had I recognized him immediately. Instead, it took me skimming the document and realizing it was a false one as well. For a minute I thought maybe the company had been sold false data, but then I remembered where I’d seen him, and I realized the data was flagged and I’d be having company any minute.”

She glanced at Nicolas. Waves of dark energy swarmed around her. “You’re getting upset. I’m alive and safe, and it wasn’t all that difficult to get out of there. The biggest problem was the research data. I didn’t want them to be able to move it. I was fairly certain they didn’t have much warning so they couldn’t have buried it all that deep. Most people think in terms of protecting a computer, but a really good hacker can get through most computers given the time. I figured they didn’t put anything on the computers just because of that. And if I was right, that meant there was only the one copy. And if there was only one copy, they had it locked up tight.”

“A lot of assumptions in a short period of time, especially when people are coming after you,” Kaden pointed out. “You should have gotten the hell out of there.”

“I was fairly certain I could stay hidden. And I also knew I could provide a few diversions. I was more worried about the security system where they had the data. I assumed they’d beef it up and maybe provided a human guard or two. I wish I had your ability to coax someone to look the other way.”

Nicolas folded his arms across his chest, his bronzed features an implacable mask. “So you stayed even though you knew it was a trap and you had no backup. Calhoun couldn’t have even gotten to you if they’d found you. You saw what they did to him. They would have killed you. You must have known that, Dahlia. They had to be putting out some malicious energy.”

She could feel his level of anger rising, a very unusual emotion for Nicolas. If the others hadn’t been there, she would have reached out to soothe him, but she felt inhibited by their presence. Inwardly she sighed. She had no idea how to act around other people. What kind of relationship did Nicolas and she really have? They’d slept together. Lots of couples slept together and it didn’t mean anything at all.

“Yes it does.” Nicolas said the words aloud deliberately, said them between his bared teeth. He said them aloud to show her he was seriously staking his claim. He didn’t care how primitive she might think him. She wasn’t going to have sex with him and throw him out, damn it. They belonged together. There was law and order in the universe. She wasn’t going to turn him inside out and upside down and then toss him out like garbage.

“Stop it!” Dahlia backed away from him to the doorway. “You’re acting like an idiot.”

The other GhostWalkers exchanged raised eyebrows, clearly not feeling the hostile energy pouring off of Nicolas the way she did. Dahlia didn’t understand how they could be so protected.

“Well, now, ma’am,” Sam said, scratching his head. “This is the first time I’ve ever heard anyone call Nico an idiot.” He quickly held up his hand for peace when she turned to include him in her glare. “I’d be obliged if you let us in on what’s going on. To be honest, no one dares to call him much of anything.”

“Why not?” Dahlia flicked a quick look at Nicolas, who leaned one hip against the wall and managed to look lethal just standing there.

“He’s a dangerous-looking fellow,” Sam pointed out.

Dahlia knew immediately Sam was diffusing the situation, and she was grateful for the instant reduction of energy. She had the impression of a smile in her mind, but Nicolas’s expressionless features didn’t reflect one.

“Please go on, Dahlia,” Kaden prompted with a small warning glance at Nicolas. “What did you do?”

Nicolas’s black gaze iced over, but he refrained from speaking.

“I went into my invisible mode and made myself quite small. I can’t blur my clothes, so I always note the walls of the places I’m going and try to wear clothes that blend. I can manipulate the surface of my skin, which helps to blur my image somewhat. It allows me to slip past the guards. I hid in a vent while they searched the building. I purposely chose the smallest one I could find so they would overlook it, thinking I couldn’t possibly have used it to hide. It was a very uncomfortable couple of hours.”

Kaden nodded his head. “Your ‘invisible mode’ is really more of a chameleon mode, right?”

“Exactly. I’ve practiced until I can blend into most backgrounds.”

Tucker inhaled sharply. “I saw that on the tape during your training. It must come in handy. Wish I could do it.”

“Why didn’t you just get the hell out of there?” Sam asked curiously.

“I figured they’d move the real data. I was fairly certain they’d check to make certain I hadn’t found it and they’d lead me right to it. I wouldn’t have to check every box in the vault, and I’d be able to get it and get out fast.”

Nicolas paced away from the small group. Dahlia’s tales of her adventures were holding the GhostWalkers spellbound, but they made him ill. Nothing and no one had ever affected him as she did. He felt her inside of him. Inside his head, his body, even his heart. It was crippling to a man like him. He had to have a clear head and his body couldn’t be tied up in knots, especially around Dahlia. Just the thought of her in such a dangerous situation sickened him.

He took a deep breath, made every effort to clear his mind.

“Nico,” Kaden called him back to the group. “If we’re going to help Dahlia plan going back in to recover the data, we’ll need you on board. You’re carrying most of the load, moving the energy away from all of us.”

Nicolas glanced at his friend and then back into the murky waters of the bayou. Kaden was carrying a good bit of the load as well. He was every bit as strong an anchor as Nicolas was, and he guarded the other men carefully. He sighed. As much as he liked Kaden, he didn’t want his friend to be the one drawing the energy away from Dahlia, or worse, diffusing it with whatever emotion was the most flammable.

He nodded at Kaden. “Don’t worry, I’m on board.”

Dahlia walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. It was a small gesture, but he knew the cost to her. She wasn’t a woman who touched others, and certainly not publicly. His thumb feathered over her wrist. “What did you do?”

“I waited in the vent until I heard them call off the search and then I followed the primary suspect, a man by the name of Trevor Billings. He heads up one of the many departments at Lombard Inc.” She named a primary company the defense department often used for building prototypes and weapons. The company was reputed to be heavily guarded and under the tightest of security. “Billings has been a suspect for some time. The NCIS believed he was selling weapons to terrorists and other governments, basically anyone who can pay for them, but they can’t prove it. The word is, he has a small army of his own and a couple of senators in his pocket to insure he gets the contracts he wants. Jesse believed someone inside the NCIS was tipping him off when anyone came up with new ideas for weapons and Billings was stealing the data before the contracts were given out. That way, he didn’t have to pay off his senators and he didn’t have to share with anyone. He just creates a couple of accidents for the professor, or whoever happens to think up the idea, and then he claims it belongs to his company and sells it to the government, or whoever is the highest bidder. It’s a win-win situation for him.”

“It’s not a bad idea. If he uses accidents and covers all of the United States, not hitting in the same place too often, he could really have something and no one would be the wiser. People get government grants all the time to think things up. From one end of the country to the other, teachers and students and private corporations seek grants,” Kaden mused aloud. “I can see how it would be much more profitable to him to get the data and suddenly come up with the idea himself and then market it.”

“Jesse wanted it stopped,” Dahlia said. “He wanted proof that Billings had those professors killed, and he wanted the data back.”

“Well we certainly wouldn’t want to disappoint Jesse, not with your life at stake,” Nicolas said. There was a small note in his voice that sent alarms skittering down her spine. There was ice in his eyes and in his veins and his mouth was a merciless slash.

“I take a great deal of pride in what I do. I’d never failed before, and I wasn’t about to do so this time.” Dahlia wanted to sound calm, but to her horror, she actually sounded as if she were appeasing him and that brought her own temper flaring. Snatching her hand back, she glared at him and paced away from the suddenly smothering group. “I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else. I stayed to get the job done, that’s all.” Why did she feel she owed him any explanation at all? No wonder there was a need for a relationship manual. Men were idiots. Supreme idiots, and women were just as bad trying to soothe men’s egos.

Nicolas followed her, feeling a fool. He knew part of the problem was the close proximity of so many men to Dahlia. He was still fighting off the feeling of watching her slip through his fingers. Combined with his fear for her safety, he was reacting to the amplification of his own emotions by the very energy he was drawing away from his men and from Dahlia. He sighed. So much for self-discipline and control.

She wanted to stay angry with him. There was a form of protection in staying angry, but the aching sincerity in his voice was her downfall. She took the hand he held out to her. He drew her close to him, so close she could feel the heat of his body through the thin material of their clothing.

“I’m good at what I do, Nicolas. If there’s danger, I’m careful to keep it to a minimum. And my size is an advantage. I work at night when most people are already gone. Most of the time, I’m in and out and no one is ever the wiser.”

“Dahlia,” Kaden said, “you must have to travel. Do you fly? How do you get around the traveling aspect of your job?”

“Private plane. I always use the same pilot. He’s ex-military as well and works for the NCIS. He was a Green Beret. Most of the men I’ve met from the NCIS division were in some kind of Special Forces training.” She looked at Kaden. “That’s not normal, is it?”

“Are they GhostWalkers, Dahlia?” Kaden asked.

“I have no idea.” She shrugged lightly and then pushed a hand through her hair. “Maybe. Maybe that’s the connection between them. They all seem to know one another and are close. Max is the pilot, and when I’m with him, I never seem to have problems. We don’t talk much, so I didn’t give it a lot of thought. He’s very quiet.”

“Max who?” Kaden signaled to Tucker to bring out the satellite phone to call Lily. The more information they had the better.

“Logan Maxwell. Everyone calls him Max.” She watched as Tucker talked into the phone, relaying the information. It amazed her that Lily was on the other end. For so long she didn’t know if Lily was a figment of her imagination or if she were real. Now, she was almost afraid to believe in her.

Tucker looked at them, his expression grave. “Someone’s been trying to track us. They’re using sophisticated equipment to do it. This place might not be safe anymore.”

Dahlia felt her heart thud. None of the men looked particularly concerned. They were used to the violence in their world. She took a deep breath and tried to look unafraid. It wasn’t so much the terror of having mortar rounds fired at her, so much as the onslaught of the violent energy seeking her out in the aftermath. It seemed such a weakness in the face of the strength the other GhostWalkers possessed.

Nicolas slipped his arm around her shoulders. “How do you contact Maxwell for a ride when you’re heading out for a mission?”

“Jesse usually arranges transport, but I also call Henderson’s secretary and she arranges it for me. She gives me the location of a small field and a time. Max is always there well ahead of me and ready to take off.”

“So let’s do that. Call the secretary, what’s her name?” Kaden asked.

“Louise Charter. I’ve never met her face-to-face, but I’ve spoken numerous times with her on the phone. She’s a nice woman.”

The men exchanged a long look. Dahlia’s eyebrow shot up. “What? You aren’t going to tell me that Louise is behind all this. She’s close to sixty. She’s the widow of an FBI agent.”

“We’ll see,” Kaden said. “Let’s arrange for transport to the DC and Maryland area so we can pay a little visit to the agents. I think it would be most helpful to get to know them.”

“And dangerous,” Tucker pointed out. “If they’re GhostWalkers.”

“And if they are, where did they come from? Why haven’t we heard of them?”

“Calhoun knew about us,” Nicolas said quietly. “He recognized my name, and he didn’t bat an eye over my talking telepathically to him. He knew.”

Dahlia immediately felt the impact of the weight of their combined gazes. “Don’t be looking at me. I’d never heard of you. If Jesse knew, he didn’t say a word to me.”

“Where is the data now, Dahlia?” Nicolas asked point-blank.

“In the vault. I just moved it from one box to another. They have a very secure vault, each of their researchers has access using codes and prints and keys to sensitive materials. I didn’t have time to get it out of the building. I was afraid I’d be caught, and I wanted to safeguard it. I thought it was better to let them think I smuggled it out and go back later and get it. So I moved it.”

“How’d you get past the security?” Kaden asked.

She shrugged. “I followed them in. It wasn’t that difficult. They weren’t looking for me and I jammed the cameras. I’d been doing it on and off for days so they thought they had a glitch. No one thought to look in the shadows to see if I was following them. It was more difficult getting out than getting in.”

“So now you need to break back into the building and bring the data out before they discover they still have it,” Kaden concluded.

“That’s about it,” she agreed.

“Call the secretary and set up transport, Dahlia,” Nicolas said. “We’ll go along and make certain things run smoothly. And if we’re lucky, we’ll flush out the traitor while we’re at it.”

Dahlia shook her head. “I work alone. I can’t work with anyone else. You know that, Nicolas. It’s too dangerous.”

Kaden laughed lightly. “You obviously haven’t worked with the GhostWalkers, Dahlia. The recovery is your job. We’re just going to go along to smooth the way. Don’t worry, we work well as a unit.”

Dahlia hesitated, wondering if they were railroading her. She needed time to think things through before committing herself any deeper into the company of so many others. But somehow, in spite of her misgivings, the phone was in her hand.

“I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do,” she pointed out.

“Exactly,” Nicolas said.

The men watched Tucker as she talked to Louise Charter. He was carefully looking at the screen of his laptop. “Oh, yeah. We’re being traced, people. I’ve thrown up a couple of smoke screens, just enough to keep them thinking we aren’t on to them, but they’ll find us. We already know they have a team in the area.”

“Or what’s left of it,” Nicolas said.

“Keep talking, Dahlia, let them get a good fix on us,” Kaden advised.

Dahlia scowled at him. She was unused to taking orders and especially not used to allowing enemies to pinpoint her exact location. She was a woman of the shadows, and being in a spotlight was extraordinarily uncomfortable. She looked up at Nicolas. His wide shoulders blotted out the sunlight, so that for a moment, she saw only him. He seemed invincible, a man who would never give up, never stop. She kept chatting with Louise, talking about nothing important, yet counting every second until Tucker signaled to her.

“Henderson wasn’t available, which means he was out of the office, or he would have insisted on talking to me. Louise wanted to forward my call to him, but I declined,” she explained. “So now what?”

“Now we know someone in that office is hunting you,” Kaden said.

“I knew that already. How does that narrow it down?”

“I don’t think it’s all that easy to bug the NCIS secretary’s office and trace a call,” Kaden answered. “I’d have to say we need to look very closely at the secretary.”

For some reason, the idea that Louise could be the traitor made Dahlia feel sick. She liked Louise. Maybe she didn’t know her all that well, but she liked her, and she had contact with very few people. She was beginning to believe most of the world was made up of deceivers. Part of her wanted to remain forever in the shadows. It seemed so much safer there. Out in the open, she was so much more vulnerable. She forced a small smile. “I need a little space. While you all eat, I think I’ll take a little time for myself.” She didn’t look at Nicolas when she said it. She needed space from him as well.

Dahlia went for the roof, the safest place she could think of while she sorted things out. They had little time. Either the NCIS had traced the call to ascertain her whereabouts, or someone else had done so, someone who wanted her dead. Either way, it was more than likely they would have company very quickly. She pressed her hands to her face, forcing the air through her lungs. Her life had been turned upside down in a few short days. She’d had no real time to think, or plan. She just kept moving to stay alive. She hadn’t even been able to grieve properly for Milly or Bernadette.

She felt for the familiar comfort of the amethyst spheres in her pocket. She had to focus on the mission. Before anything else, she needed clothing. Everything she owned was gone, blown up along with her home. She’d need to use the money Jesse had stashed in the safe house for clothes. She knew the importance of blending into her surroundings.

Dahlia lifted her face to the slight breeze coming in off the water and listened to the comforting sounds of the bayou. All the while she knew a part of her was waiting for Nicolas to come to her, and that frightened her more than the coming trouble. Music drifted up to her, cheery, upbeat strains of reggae. Gator began to sing. She watched as he pulled out a grill and began to prepare for a barbecue. It was strange to sit up on a roof and think that she might actually be part of something like a backyard barbecue.

Dahlia watched the men gather around Gator as he drew the outline of the small island in the dirt beside the grill with a long stick. Gator drew in the shoreline and trees. Nicolas stepped up to study it. Dahlia strained to hear them over the music. None of them seemed to care whether she heard or not as they planned what appeared to be a defense against an invasion.

“We’ll want to know where they’re going to come in. Gator, you know the island best, as well as the terrain. Let’s choose our spot and direct them to an appropriate landing area,” Nicolas instructed. He glanced up at Dahlia and winked.

Somehow, under the circumstances, she didn’t find it all that reassuring.

“Away from the cabin,” Gator said. “We’ll have to block off a couple of the landing areas using natural barriers as roadblocks so they don’t get suspicious. I’ve got a few signs that will scare them off anyplace we want to protect.”

“We’ll want to draw them into a natural ambush area. Set up a few claymore mines with trip wires,” Nicolas said.

“I’ll cook,” Sam offered. “Ian knows his way around the claymore mines. Besides, he likes all those bugs in the swamp.”

Nicolas ignored him. “We’ll need trip flares set up anywhere there’s a possible landing site where they can sneak up on us. Tucker, you want to take care of that? I’ll need the rest of you to help with barriers once Gator gives us a location for the ambush. I want this tight, no mistakes. Let’s limit where they can come onto the island as best we can. We want them all in the same spot before we spring the trap.”

Gator’s stick continued to draw lines. “This is the canal. I’m thinking we set up shop here, Nico. It’s not too marshy, and they’ll be more apt to choose to walk through it then some of the other spots. They’ll think the bushes will be to their advantage as well, but they’ll be in a box. Half a mile up is a rock face and we can close in on either side and behind them.”

Nicolas studied the map drawn into the dirt from every angle. “It’s a go then. We have to take out the dock, Gator, otherwise, they may try a frontal attack using a mortar to take out the cabin.”

Gator shrugged carelessly. “We all have to sacrifice.

“They’re safe with me,” Sam said. “I’ll tear down the dock while the ribs are cooking. Watch for leeches, boys,” he added cheerfully, waving at them.

The men split up, jogging toward the areas directed. There were three main docking areas and one that could be used if necessary. Tucker set up the trip flares while Gator posted warning signs of sinkholes near the shore. He’d used the signs years earlier to keep the police from searching the island for his wayward brother. To make the intended landing spot more enticing, they drove a couple of old posts deep into the mud for a boat tie off and stamped vegetation into the ground to make the path appear used.

Dahlia stood on the roof and watched them work. The men shed their shirts and spent time dragging brush and placing objects in various locations. She could see a film of dirt rising in the air, but she couldn’t really tell what they were doing. All the while the music blasted a happy beat, and the smell of barbecued ribs provided a rich aroma.

Dahlia climbed off the roof to stand on the shoreline as Sam pulled apart the rickety dock. He carefully carried each plank out of sight. “What are you maniacs up to now?” she asked, her hands on her hips. If they were planning violence, she wasn’t catching a hint of fear or anticipation. They all seemed to be working readily with a happy smile. If anything she caught hints of hunger as the aroma spread across the small island.

“We’re just working up an appetite,” Sam assured. “Turn those ribs over, will you? If I burned them, the others would feed me to the alligators.”

“Speaking of which, one or two have joined us,” she pointed out.

Sam glared at the creature closest to him, sunning itself on the bank not more than a few feet from where he was waist-deep in the water. “Ugly things, aren’t they? Damn thing looks like it’s just waiting for me to turn my back on it.”

Dahlia sauntered over to the grill and frowned down at the ribs. “I’d offer to keep an eye on the alligators for you, but I’m thinking you’re holding something back from me. You and your little band of island boys busily working up an appetite just doesn’t work for me, you know?” She glanced past Sam deliberately. “Oh, look, a little friend for alligator to play with.”

Sam whirled around hastily, staring out over the water. “Where?” He twisted back in an attempt to keep an eye on the alligator sunning itself on the bank. “Where is it?” He yanked a plank loose and held it up as a weapon.

Dahlia carefully turned each rib over, secretly thrilled with the new experience. “I may have been mistaken.”

“That’s not nice. That’s just not nice at all,” Sam said, glaring at her.

“Well, it could have been an alligator, but more likely it was just bubbles or a floating stick or something like that. You aren’t nervous standing in the water like that, are you? I read a book on alligators, and I think they like to come up from the deep to strike, but maybe that’s sharks.”

Sam swore and hurried out of the water, dragging the plank with him and keeping it between him and the alligator on the shore. The creature didn’t move or give ground, but it did emit a low warning growl.

Dahlia burst out laughing. “You’re afraid of that little bitty alligator, aren’t you? It’s not even full grown.”

“That’s just wrong, girl,” Sam said. “I hope Nicolas knows what you’re really like. I’ll bet he’s never seen the mean side of your mouth.”

“Of course not.” Dahlia admitted blithely. “Are you going to tell me what your little merry band is up to?”

“Merry band?”

“I read Robin Hood, didn’t you?”

Sam wiped the sweat from his face as the others came back to camp. “Thank God, you’re back, don’t leave me with her again. She’s worse than the alligator.”

“Hey! I did the cooking.” Sam glared at Dahlia. “And it wasn’t easy.”

“I’m going to be seriously pissed if someone blows up my cabin,” Gator said. He winked at Dahlia. “I’ve got a few little surprises of my own if they set foot on my property.”

“It isn’t going to help much if they use mortar rounds,” Nicolas pointed out. “Let’s get out of here before we find ourselves in a trap.”

Dahlia watched as the men silently shouldered their packs. She had no idea why they’d calmly waited for the enemy, going so far as to tear into the food with gusto, seemingly without a care in the world. She could feel the tension rising in her with each passing minute, yet none of them exhibited the least amount of anxiety.

She set out with them in the boats. Nicolas was with her and Kaden was with Tucker and Sam in a second boat while Ian and Gator took the third. They moved without haste along the channel toward another small inlet only yards from Gator’s cabin.

Dahlia cleared her throat as they began to pull the boats through the reed-choked marsh. “Exactly why aren’t we headed for the airstrip?”

“Don’t worry, Dahlia,” Sam called cheerfully.

Too cheerfully, she decided. She looked at Nicolas suspiciously. “What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m going to stash you somewhere safe, and we’re going to do a little recon.”

“And you didn’t think it necessary to tell me about it?”

“I should have,” he admitted, “but to be honest, I just presumed you’d know we’d bait the trap and draw them in. We don’t like unfinished business, Dahlia. These people are here for one purpose only. That’s to get you. I’m not leaving until there’s no threat to you from anyone here.”

His merciless tone sent a shiver down her spine. She looked away from him, back toward the river. Whatever code Nicolas lived by, hunted by, believed in, was intertwined inexorably with the man he was. The man she was beginning to fear she was falling in love with. She should have known he would never leave a threat to her. He was incapable of such a thing. There was no point in protesting the danger, or pointing out they could make a run for it. Running wasn’t in his character unless it suited his purpose—unless it suited his hunt.

She looked at him and saw the warrior in him, a throw-back to a people of integrity and honor. To a people valiant and courageous. He would take the fight wherever he needed to go, and he would be relentless in his pursuit. Dahlia sighed softly. “I can just bet what your recon is going to be.”

Nicolas turned to signal the others to get rid of the boats. He took her arm. “Let’s get you out of the line of fire. How far do you have to be to keep the energy from finding you?”

“I’ve never actually measured the distance.” She didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful. That was the trouble with relationships, she decided, a woman was always torn between feeling protected by a man like Nicolas and wondering if she should just kick him for his overbearing behavior.

He brought her hand to his mouth and nibbled on her fingers, his black gaze studying her face even as they picked their way through the brush. “You aren’t worried, are you?”

“Why should I be worried? It’s just another day in the neighborhood. You know—bombs, fires, people shooting at you. Why would I be worried? Especially since we could be clothes shopping or boarding a plane. I’m not in the least worried.”

“Hmmm,” he mused aloud. “I read about this in the relationship manual. It’s called womanly sarcasm and usually means a man is in deep trouble.” He found a cool spot hidden near the center of the island. “You stay here until I come and get you.”

“What exactly do you think you’re accomplishing by this?”

“I’m keeping the enemy off our backs while we hunt the traitor and recover the data,” Nicolas replied. He bent his head to kiss her. “Be here when I get back.”

He made himself walk away from her, telling himself she’d be there waiting for him when he returned, knowing her decision could go either way. As he approached the others, he signaled and they immediately went into combat readiness, taking out their weapons and shouldering their packs, scattering into the thick reeds to lie in wait for the enemy to arrive.

The sound of oars splashing in the water was enough to send several birds into the air and to silence the hum of insects for a few moments. And it was enough to warn the GhostWalkers. Gator signaled he’d spotted the boat as it cautiously circled the island, looking for a suitable landing spot. Gator used the sounds of the bayou, a perfect imitation of an aroused alligator to give them a number. Five occupants. Nicolas spread his fingers, gestured to the others.

The moment they knew the incoming boat was docking exactly where they’d planned, the occupants tying up to the two posts standing upright in invitation, the GhostWalkers slipped into the water, using reeds as breathing tubes as they sank beneath the surface to make their way across the canal to box in the enemy. Once in position, they waited beneath the murky water for the signal from their point man to proceed.

Nicolas felt the tap on his arm and sent the gesture through the line to his men. They raised slowly, blackened water creatures armed with M-4s and knives, their choice weapons of war. As still as statues, they remained in the water, camouflaged by the reeds and plants with only their heads and shoulders above the surface, rifles trained on the enemy.

The five killers spread out, moving onto the island in silence, two using the path that had been made for them, the other three a good distance away. Nicolas and the GhostWalkers rose up out of the depths of the waters without a sound, slithering onto shore, bellies to the ground, rifles ready. They were a solid unit, had worked many missions, and knew exact positions without ever having to look. They pushed their way through the dense shrubbery following the five assassins, staying low to the ground, unseen, unheard.

A frog set up a chorus of sound. An alligator bellowed. A large bird rose into the air with the flapping of great wings, and the wind moaned through the brush. Gator lay flat, concentrating on the beehive clinging to the branches of a tree just ahead of the five men. At once the bees became agitated, buzzing angrily, emerging from the hive in a black swarm. Snakes plopped into the water, the sound carrying loudly through the waterway. Lizards and insects skittered in large masses across the ground.

The five men began slapping at the bugs and bees swarming around them. They ran in an effort to get away from the stinging bees. One ran into the first claymore mine and tripped the wire. The explosion was loud, and the others immediately went to ground, blasting away with weapons at empty air.

Nicolas took the higher ground, maneuvering into position to pick them off one at a time. Kaden flanked him, choosing a target as well. They fired almost simultaneously. The two remaining turned their weapons toward the sound of the rifle fire. Sam signaled he had the shot and took it, Tucker following suit.

Almost at once they heard the explosion behind them, coming from the other island. A fireball whooshed through the air and landed in the water, sizzling as it disappeared in the midst of black smoke. Nicolas swore. “Clean up here,” he snapped and ran to the water to cross the canal.

Dahlia was in the middle of a seizure when he found her, the violent energy burning through her veins, convulsing her body again and again. He knelt beside her, took her hand, hoping to draw the energy away from her.

“How bad?” Kaden came up behind him.

Knowing it couldn’t be helped, but that Dahlia would hate anyone seeing her so vulnerable, Nicolas indicated for Kaden to take her other hand. Between the two anchors they were able to draw the last of the violent energy away from her body until she lay still.

She turned her head away from them and was sick repeatedly. Nicolas handed her a wipe from his pack. She took it with shaky hands. Her head was pounding, a ferocious pain that refused to let up. “I don’t think we judged the distance very well.” It was a poor attempt at humor, but the best she could do under the circumstances.

Nicolas’s stomach knotted at her words. He lifted her, ignoring her protests, and took her to the boats. “We’ll find a place to shower and change clothes. You can rest while I go shopping for you.” It was all he could think to do. Even holding her, she was hunching away from him, avoiding his gaze, keeping her face averted from Kaden.

“The transport will be waiting,” Kaden reminded.

“Let it wait,” Nicolas said grimly.