Ghostly game, p.1
Ghostly Game, page 1
TITLES BY CHRISTINE FEEHAN
THE GHOSTWALKER NOVELS
Ghostly Game
Phantom Game
Lightning Game
Lethal Game
Toxic Game
Covert Game
Power Game
Spider Game
Viper Game
Samurai Game
Ruthless Game
Street Game
Murder Game
Predatory Game
Deadly Game
Conspiracy Game
Night Game
Mind Game
Shadow Game
THE DRAKE SISTERS NOVELS
Hidden Currents
Turbulent Sea
Safe Harbor
Dangerous Tides
Oceans of Fire
THE LEOPARD NOVELS
Leopard’s Scar
Leopard’s Rage
Leopard’s Wrath
Leopard’s Run
Leopard’s Blood
Leopard’s Fury
Wild Cat
Cat’s Lair
Leopard’s Prey
Savage Nature
Wild Fire
Burning Wild
Wild Rain
THE SEA HAVEN/SISTERS OF THE HEART NOVELS
Bound Together
Fire Bound
Earth Bound
Air Bound
Spirit Bound
Water Bound
THE SHADOW RIDERS NOVELS
Shadow Fire
Shadow Storm
Shadow Flight
Shadow Warrior
Shadow Keeper
Shadow Reaper
Shadow Rider
THE TORPEDO INK NOVELS
Recovery Road
Savage Road
Annihilation Road
Reckless Road
Desolation Road
Vendetta Road
Vengeance Road
Judgment Road
THE CARPATHIAN NOVELS
Dark Whisper
Dark Tarot
Dark Song
Dark Illusion
Dark Sentinel
Dark Legacy
Dark Carousel
Dark Promises
Dark Ghost
Dark Blood
Dark Wolf
Dark Lycan
Dark Storm
Dark Predator
Dark Peril
Dark Slayer
Dark Curse
Dark Hunger
Dark Possession
Dark Celebration
Dark Demon
Dark Secret
Dark Destiny
Dark Melody
Dark Symphony
Dark Guardian
Dark Legend
Dark Fire
Dark Challenge
Dark Magic
Dark Gold
Dark Desire
Dark Prince
ANTHOLOGIES
Edge of Darkness
(with Maggie Shayne and Lori Herter)
Darkest at Dawn
(includes Dark Hunger and Dark Secret)
Sea Storm
(includes Magic in the Wind and Oceans of Fire)
Fever
(includes The Awakening and Wild Rain)
Fantasy
(with Emma Holly, Sabrina Jeffries, and Elda Minger)
Lover Beware
(with Fiona Brand, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Eileen Wilks)
Hot Blooded
(with Maggie Shayne, Emma Holly, and Angela Knight)
SPECIALS
Dark Crime
The Awakening
Dark Hunger
Magic in the Wind
Red on the River
Murder at Sunrise Lake
BERKLEY
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
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Copyright © 2023 by Christine Feehan
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Feehan, Christine, author.
Title: Ghostly game / Christine Feehan.
Description: New York : Berkley, [2023] | Series: A Ghostwalker Novel
Identifiers: LCCN 2022049271 (print) | LCCN 2022049272 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593638682 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593638699 (ebook)
Classification: LCC PS3606.E36 G56 2023 (print) | LCC PS3606.E36 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022049271
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022049272
Cover design by Judith Lagerman
Cover images: woman © Nina Masic / Trevillion Images; Golden Gate Bridge © Joe Azure / Stocksy
Book design by Kelly Lipovich, adapted for ebook by Kelly Brennan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
pid_prh_6.0_143390428_c0_r0
CONTENTS
Cover
Titles by Christine Feehan
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
For My Readers
Acknowledgments
The Ghostwalker Symbol Details
The Ghostwalker Creed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
_143390428_
For Joel Diehl. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend.
FOR MY READERS
Be sure to go to ChristineFeehan.com/members/ to sign up for my private book announcement list and download the free ebook of Dark Desserts. Join my community and get firsthand news, enter the book discussions, ask your questions and chat with me. Please feel free to email me at Christine@ChristineFeehan.com. I would love to hear from you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Susan Barnes and Diane Trudeau; I would never have been able to write this book under such circumstances without you. Sheila English, for the research needed so quickly. Thank you, Clint, for providing me with information I needed to ensure I was getting the detective details correct. Any mistakes are definitely mine. Brian Feehan, for making certain he was there every day to set up the pages I needed to write in order to hit the deadline. Karen Rose, for always being there when I needed a sounding board. Denise, for handling all the details of every aspect of my life that was so crazy. Thank you all so very much!
THE GHOSTWALKER SYMBOL DETAILS
SIGNIFIES
shadow
SIGNIFIES
protection against evil forces
SIGNIFIES
the Greek letter psi, which is used by parapsychology researchers to signify ESP or other psychic abilities
SIGNIFIES
qualities of a knight—loyalty, generosity, courage and honor
SIGNIFIES
shadow knights who protect against evil forces using psychic powers, courage and honor
THE GHOSTWALKER CREED
We are the GhostWalkers, we live in the shadows
The sea, the earth, and the air are our domain
No fallen comrade will be left behind
We are loyalty and honor bound
We are invisible to our enemies and we destroy them where we find them
We believe in justice and we protect our country and those unable to protect themselves
What goes unseen, unheard and unknown are GhostWalkers
There is honor in the shadows and it is us
We move in complete silence whether in jungle or desert
We walk among our enemy unseen and unheard
Striking without sound and scatter to the winds before they have knowledge of our existence
We gather information and wait with endless patie
We are both merciful and merciless
We are relentless and implacable in our resolve
We are the GhostWalkers and the night is ours
1
Sometimes things just go south, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.” Gideon “Eagle” Carpenter eased his body back slowly until he was entirely supine, linked his fingers behind his head and stared up at the stars.
This was San Francisco. Viewing stars wasn’t always easy because fog liked to creep in at night, at least where he was located. He was on the roof of the four-story, wedge-shaped original warehouse made of red bricks that rose like a monstrosity to stand out among all the cool newer concrete and steel warehouses surrounding it. Considering that the building was the only one on the street to survive the 1906 earthquake and fires and was still standing, despite the city condemning it and threatening to demolish it several times, Gideon thought that what others considered an eyesore was worth saving. So he’d saved it. Mostly for this—the rooftop. He’d used every penny of his share of the money and then some to see to it that the best of the best ensured the old building would withstand anything thrown at it for the next hundred years.
“Yeah, Gideon,” he repeated aloud. “Shit happens. You roll with it. You don’t let it get to you. You come here, high in the sky, and you get rid of it.”
Because shit did happen in his life far too often. It had been happening since the day he was born, and he was damn sure it would continue to do so until the day he died. He’d created the mantra, found the highest place possible wherever he was, repeated that shit over and over until he made himself let the clouds take it all away. They had to take it away. Sometimes, like tonight, when his churning gut was in knots and the devil was riding him hard, he had to call on the universe to shoulder his shit.
A whisper of movement had him dropping his hands slowly to his sides, the fingers on one hand wrapping around the butt of one of his favorite weapons. He could shoot the wings off a fly in the dead of night if he had to. His other hand settled around the hilt of his knife. Up close and personal wasn’t necessarily his first choice, but he had skills, and when push came to shove, he could use them. Few knew the code to open the hidden stairs to the rooftop, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He was a careful man. That had been ingrained in him, long before he’d taken to living on the streets and a ragtag family of sorts had been formed by several throwaway kids—of which he’d been one.
He waited in silence, air moving evenly through his lungs. The trapdoor opened carefully. No one emerged.
“Gideon? You going to take my head off?”
The voice was soft, with the merest hint of an accent even those with great hearing couldn’t detect. Javier Enderman. One of his brothers from the street. Family. One of his brothers from the service. One he’d live and die for. Gideon hadn’t expected him, but he should have.
“I’m considering it. I’d have to get up to do it, and I’m not liking the idea of moving, so I think you’re safe enough.”
Javier pushed the trapdoor open all the way and climbed onto the roof. He was all muscle, but with his lithe build, it was impossible to tell. He looked young; impossible to guess his age. In their business, it was a decided advantage. Thick black hair fell onto his forehead, spilled over his ears and curled around the back of his neck. He had black, black eyes that appeared to look right through a man to uncover every secret. Once he stepped into a shadow, it was nearly impossible to find him if he didn’t want to be found. Gideon considered him the most dangerous member of their team.
Javier barely made a whisper of sound as he crossed the roof to take a seat a few feet from Gideon. He added energy drinks to the cooler and three Ziploc bags of what appeared to be fresh spinach chips to the lock box that was never locked beside Gideon.
Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Where the hell did you get those?” There was reverence in his voice—awe, even—because fresh spinach chips, the real deal out of the oven, deserved awe.
“Swiped them. Stole them. Lifted them. It was a sweet little heist too. Right out from under Rose’s nose. In her kitchen. Know how much you love them, and I’ve got to keep my skills sharp, so we both win.”
“Rose will cut you into little pieces if she catches you stealing her spinach chips. They take forever to make,” Gideon said.
Javier shrugged. “You want me to take them back, I’ll do it.”
“Hell no.” Gideon burst out laughing. “She’s not going to kill me; she’ll go after you. And then there’s Kane. You lift a finger to defend yourself when his cute little lethal wife, Rose, is cutting off your balls, Kane will beat you to a bloody pulp.”
Kane had been one of the original street kids, one of those idiotic enough—as all of them were—to follow Mack McKinley into the service and then into specialized training and straight to the classified psychic GhostWalker program.
“Fortunately, she won’t find out,” Javier said. “You’re perfectly safe with your spinach chips. Eat them in peace. I had a little help. Her son happened to start fussing, distracting her when she was putting all her fresh chips in the Ziploc bags. There were so many all over the counter she couldn’t possibly know three bags went missing. Even if she counted them, the piles had fallen over.” He flashed another grin at Gideon. “No one makes that many fresh chips all at the same time. Kane is addicted just the way you are. She spoils him.”
That little grin Javier gave him made him wonder about Rose’s son suddenly getting fussy. Kids liked Javier. All of them. Rose and Kane’s son, Sebastian, was all kinds of talented. He might be a baby, but he was already exhibiting signs of psychic gifts. It wouldn’t surprise Gideon if Javier had a way of communicating with the little ones recently born to various GhostWalkers. He didn’t ask.
Silence fell. Gideon liked silence. What he didn’t like was the reason Javier was there and what was coming next, but he couldn’t think of a way to stop it, so he just remained still.
Javier shoved both hands through his hair. “Hate that you took a slew of bullets that were mine, brother.”
“They were anyone’s. I was just in the way.”
Both knew that wasn’t the truth. Javier had been out of his mind. They had all been. Gideon had been. They hadn’t been prepared for what they’d seen. Innocent women and children, civilians who should have been safe in their homes. Going to school. To work. Just living their everyday lives. Mowed down. Raped. Murdered. Hacked to pieces. Dead bodies lying in the streets, like so much garbage. Left as bait for any soldiers to find, mines under their bodies.
It wasn’t as if they weren’t experienced and hadn’t seen the worst. They were urban fighters. Good at what they did. Ghosts sent in to retrieve prisoners, slipping in unseen and getting out without anyone ever spotting them. Right in the middle of a city. Right in the middle of the enemy’s home. They’d seen it all, been through it. Been taken prisoner. Tortured. They’d been shot. More than once, the plane they were in had been shot down. They were experienced, but this—seeing infants and children and women, innocents in schools and homes—this was too much for all of them.
Javier had lost it. They all had, but Javier had lost his mind. He was entitled. The sight was a trigger from his childhood buried deep, but his reaction had endangered the entire team. Gideon had taken out six of the enemy to keep them from killing Javier. But Javier hadn’t stood down. He had charged with no cover, no backup, right into the heart of the enemy. Gideon, looking through his scope into Javier’s eyes, had been able to see he was gone—no longer thinking. He’d shut down completely. Gideon calmly took out two more who would have killed his brother, and then he made the decision to go after Javier, protecting him the way he always had.
Gideon didn’t want those memories brought here, not to his rooftop. Not when they were still burned behind his eyes. The smell in his nostrils. Even the coppery taste of blood lingered in his mouth. The pain of bullets tearing into his flesh and through his insides was far too fresh. Those memories were already too close. He hadn’t had the chance to put them away.
