Tansy attempted to pull her hand away, but Kadan tightened his grip. The men crowded around, looking at the impression of the knife embedded in her palm. Nico turned her hand around and murmured to her to open and close her fingers.

“Her hand’s not broken, Kadan, and the impression is fading. How does your talent work, Tansy?”

Again she tugged at her hand, but Kadan kept possession of it, although he did lower her arm, taking her hand beneath the table, out of sight. His fingers brushed back and forth over her palm in long, slow caresses where no one could see.

“I’m not certain. I’ve had the ability as long as I can remember. I touch something, and I can sense the impressions left behind by anyone who has touched it before me. If it’s strong energy, such as violence, the impressions are equally as strong. It’s rather like always being in on private conversations.”

“So you wear gloves most of the time?”

She nodded. “Always. I don’t wear them when I’m camping up in the mountains, but as a rule, unless I want to stumble onto someone’s secrets, I’m careful.”

“I’m shielding for her,” Kadan said. “Which is why she’s able to be okay here with all of you and in this house.” His fingers continued to stroke her injured hand beneath the table.

“We really should get started,” she said.

Kadan sighed. She was right. If he was going to eliminate both teams quickly, he needed this information. “Let’s do it then.”

“I’ll clean up,” Gator said.

“I’m going to button down the house and set up a couple of escape routes just to be safe.” Nico shoved back his chair.

“That leaves me to talk to the ladies about what they can give us on your suspects,” Ryland added.

Kadan appreciated his friends’ discretion. It was difficult enough to watch Tansy suffer while she worked, but he also knew her inevitable reaction embarrassed her. She didn’t want to try tracking in front of an audience. He held her hand as they went into the bedroom where he’d set up the pieces. He’d placed the four pieces side by side on the dresser.

“Sit. I don’t want you screwing up your hip.”

She nodded, almost without hearing him. Her gaze was already fixed on the small, perfectly detailed bull. He kept his mind in hers, wanting to understand what she was doing so he’d have a better chance of helping her when she needed him. She was already half-gone from him, tuning everything out around her but the object that she was going to handle. She pulled on the gloves almost absently, not even glancing at him.

There was only Tansy and the ivory game piece and the information it would yield. Her breathing changed first. Kadan watched Tansy’s face rather than her hands. He knew the moment she picked up the ivory bull with her gloved hands. The jolt of violent energy was strong. He felt it blast through her mind to encompass his. Along with the violence was a sexual energy that didn’t surprise him. Tansy’s record of tracking was 100 percent, and if she thought a piece represented the highly sexual nature of the owner, he believed her.

“He’s very involved in the rodeo. He likes the power of the bull and craves it for himself. He enjoys his prowess with women. His buddies want the details, and he tries to top his record of several women in one day, all begging for his attentions. He often has a couple of women at the same time. He enjoys that he can get them to do anything he wants more than he actually enjoys the sexual act. He’s a total adrenaline junkie, needing the high all the time. The murder doesn’t give him his fix, but the idea of getting away with it, the planning, carrying out, and walking away clean—that’s the rush for him. The more public, the greater the risk, the better the high.”

Her eyes deepened in color, going from blue to violet. He could see the silvery lines begin to form in them, and his belly hardened into tight fist-size knots. She moved farther and farther away from him along the thread of the cowboy, where he couldn’t really follow. He could see blurring images, coming and going fast, but his mind’s eye couldn’t grasp them. He could only pick up the impressions from her.

“This was a chance to pull ahead of Team One. The idiot Stallion couldn’t keep it in his pants and lost points for the other team. If he could pull this off, they’d surge ahead. The target was everything they could possibly want. High-profile. In public. The method was up to him, just get the job done. His kind of scenario. The thrill of walking into the courthouse with cameras everywhere and chatting with his target had been amazing. Hell, he nearly came in his jeans. Bodyguards everywhere. Stupid rent-a-cop mentality. Maybe for fun he’d take a couple of them out as well, but he had to make certain it all went down exactly as instructed, making sure the correct targets were taken.”

Tansy swallowed hard and forced herself to slow down, to try to make sense of what she was seeing and feeling. “He wants to do the murder publicly; it’s almost a euphoric feeling, very sexual, although sex has nothing to do with the crime, even if his target happens to be a woman. He isn’t at all like Stallion, where the murder is all about raping and dominating a woman. It’s the thrill all the way with this one.”

She took another breath, let it out, and slipped deeper into her hypnotic state. Kadan could see the silver spreading through the violet, so that her eyes began to shimmer. “You loved being in the military and didn’t want to leave. Why did you then? You hide your true nature so well. Why? You were forced to leave or you would have stayed on forever. You could do whatever you wanted and not get caught. Oh God.”

Kadan saw her hesitate. Her finger began to slide back and forth in a mesmerizing stroke over the back of the bull. “You killed more than one teammate, slipping up behind them and breaking a neck or shoving your knife into their side. You slit the throat of a commanding officer just a few feet from your team just to see if you could get away with it—and you did, blaming it on an enemy you killed. How did he know? No one saw you. No one ever suspected you, yet he knew. Who knew, cowboy, who knew you were a serial killer before you ever played the game? Of course. The puppet master. He knew and he stroked your ego and manipulated you into playing his game. But why? And why did you leave the military?”

Kadan moved closer to her, sensing she was being drawn farther away from him. He didn’t touch her, but kept his body an inch from hers, watching her hands now, watching the way she stroked the bull.

“An injury. Something bad. Something we can catch you with. You’re on disability. A decorated vet from special teams that rides bulls even though you’re on full disability. What is wrong with you? And how did he know you killed?”

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. Kadan stiffened. She was reaching for that other thread, the subtle one that was potentially more dangerous than any other.

“He knew you would kill. He knows you so well. He got you through, got you the . . .”

I have your favorite teddy bear. The one you kept from that old nurse who rocked you at night when your head hurt so bad it felt like someone was pounding spikes through it. Your energy is embedded deep in poor little teddy.

Kadan reacted instantly to that taunting voice brushing at the walls of her mind. He swept his arms around her, shoving his much larger fingers between her thumb and forefinger, forcing her hand open so the bull dropped free. He jerked her around to face him and settled his mouth over hers, kissing her long and deep, pushing himself into her mind, filling her full, so full of himself that there wasn’t room for anything or anyone else. He allowed images to fill his mind, to push into hers, images of the two of them making love, hot and sweet and fierce, just the way he was kissing her.

He gave the killers and the victims no chance to settle anywhere, sweeping them aside and staking his claim. Her lashes fluttered, and when he lifted her head, the color was back to violet, the opaque veil gone. He kissed her again.

“We did it.” There was a smear of blood by her nose. He removed it with the pad of his finger. “You picked up a lot even through the gloves.” Her body was trembling and she still seemed far away, but he’d brought her out of the trance and pushed the killers from her mind. “Let’s get you into the other room. You’re going to need your headache medicine.”

She shook her head, her fingers tightening on his arm. “No. I have to go after another one. I want the one with the faintest impressions. I have to do it now.”

She was swaying with weariness, and he could already feel the beginnings of the headache beating at her. They hadn’t even debriefed the first game piece or talked about the puppet master. And Kadan sure as hell wasn’t going to let her anywhere near that bastard. “It’s too soon. You’re exhausted and drained.”

“Exactly. He’ll believe I can’t do it again so soon. He won’t be looking for me. This is my chance. He’s so arrogant he thinks he’s way stronger, that I can’t possibly find him before he finds me. He went to my parents’ home, Kadan. He knows who I am and he went to my parents’ home, somehow got in and went through my things. I have a teddy bear I had with me before I was ever adopted. He has it. I’m going to find him now, today. He’ll think I’m done and he won’t be lying in wait to ambush me.”

“I don’t like this, Tansy,” Kadan said, uneasy with the idea. She was exhausted and shaken; he could feel her body trembling against his.

“I can do this, Kadan.” Her eyes met his steadily. “I can. We have a chance to track him right now. It might be our best shot at it.”

He took a deep breath and pushed down his need to protect her, his desire to wrap her up and keep her safe from any harm. She wasn’t a woman who played it safe, and just as he wanted her to accept his nature, he needed to accept that she was far too courageous for her own good—and he loved her that way.

“Damn it,” he said, capitulating. “Which one?”

Tansy leaned against him for strength while she passed her palms above the three remaining game pieces. Energy pulsed off of the scythe and she pulled her hands away quickly. “Move that one for me.”

Kadan picked the carved scythe up with a cloth and set it to one side.

Tansy tried again. The two remaining ivory pieces were side by side, so she could judge their potency. The scorpion hit her fairly hard, sending impressions of rage into her mind. She quickly pulled her hand away and stared at the last one—the hawk. “I think this is my best shot at it, Kadan. The others throw off so much violence I get impressions when I’m inches from them. This one is much more contained.”

“Let’s do it then,” Kadan said. He stroked his hand down her back, the curve of her spine, and over her rounded bottom. He didn’t know if he touched her for himself or for her, but he couldn’t stop the caress. His hands went to her hips, slid up under her shirt, and massaged the ribbon of skin there with the pads of his fingers. “Are you certain, Tansy?”

She nodded. “I’m pretty sure I can get him.”

He bent his head to the nape of her neck, scraping his teeth back and forth. “I know you can, baby. Find him for us.” She would never know what it cost him to say it, but he forced the words with conviction, when deep inside, his belly was back to knots. He couldn’t summon the ice when anything concerned her, not even when he needed it most.

Tansy didn’t hesitate. She cupped her hands around the small ivory hawk. Instantly the energy swarmed over and into her mind. Images poured in along with the thick sludge that she’d long ago come to accept with murder. She kept her palms very close, almost brushing the ivory game piece.

He’d drawn a card and the murder was very precise. He had to follow specific steps in order to get the points his team needed, now that they had a real chance to win, thanks to Stallion’s screwup. No imagination involved in this one, no creativity. The victims were always picked well in advance, but usually they got to at least choose how they wanted to “do” them.