Free Ghostwalker 04 - Conspiracy Game by authors_sort Page B

him enough awake to take them as well. Briony slipped her arm around his head to support his neck while he drank.
    He hesitated before taking the pills, his eyes boring into her with suspicion. “Nothing to knock me out. I heal fast and I can take the pain.”
    “No, of course not, although now that you say that, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.” She pushed her fingers through the close-cropped hair, raking leaves and twigs from it. “Just antibiotics. We have to hit the infection hard. You need a doctor.”
    “You did a good enough job,” he said gruffly, taking the pills with half the bottle of water. “Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome. Go to sleep.” Briony’s arms ached, and although she still wasn’t experiencing the psychic overload of too many emotions bombarding her, she had a killer headache from using telepathy, and she was shaking from the night’s events. The thought that she’d killed a man, the sight and sound of it, sickened her.
    She took a long shower, rinsing her hair and her body over and over as if that could remove the memories of the evening. Nothing seemed to help and the headache persisted.
    She brushed her teeth and once again scrubbed her hands before entering the room to check on Jack. His skin was hot to the touch, but he appeared to be sleeping. Turning off the light, she sank down onto the floor beneath the window and drew up her knees, hugging herself tightly.
    Her brothers were going to lose their minds when they found out what she’d done.
    Jebediah might just kill her and put her out of her misery. She wasn’t looking forward to the morning and his inevitable lecture on her safety and the safety of the family. The entire night had been too overwhelming. The man lying only a few feet from her had been mercilessly tortured, and now, even in his sleep, his body shuddered as if still feeling every abuse.
    Life didn’t make sense to her most of the time. And she never felt safe, or as if she belonged. Everyone around her tried; it wasn’t her family or friends—it was her. She rocked herself slightly, trying to bring some comfort when the images of blood and death rose up to flood her mind. Jack stirred, and pain rippled across his face. She looked up, alert to see if he needed anything, but he appeared to be dreaming. When he settled back into a deeper sleep, she laid her head on her knees, feeling the burning wash of tears she couldn’t prevent.
    Blood and death surrounded him. Jack was drowning in it, helpless to get to the woman floating down the river. He reached for her, but missed her outstretched hand and knew he’d lost her forever. She didn’t call out to him, but cried softly, tears pouring down her face. He heard the sound, muffled, heart-wrenching, and his eyes snapped open, gun tracking around the room.
    Briony huddled on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, head down. Her silver-gold hair spilled around her face, and the sight of her like that made his heart begin to pound in his chest. He swore silently between clenched teeth, his body too tired and too beat up to move, to get to her. Slowly he lowered the gun, resting it back on the bed.
    “Briony.”
    Her head snapped up, one hand wiping at her eyes, a swift movement that she tried to hide. “Are you in pain? You must be. We’ve probably got something for pain in the kit.”
    There was a small tremor in her voice, but she rallied, covering her distress.
    “Come here.”
    She stilled, her eyes too large and drowning in tears, long lashes spiky and wet. Jack could hardly bear the sight of her like that. She should have been somewhere where she was safe and protected—not in Kinshasa where anything could happen to her.
    “I said come here.”
    The hard note of command stopped her weeping. “I heard you.” He looked so determined, as if he might get up and come over to her in spite of his injuries. Briony got to her feet and crossed to his side, laying her palm on his forehead to access his fever. “Do you