Ryland studied her face with those piercing, steel gray eyes. She couldn’t imagine his son at sixteen lying to his father. She hadn’t lied, but she was definitely omitting facts. Ryland Miller seemed to see into one’s soul.

“You had nothing to do with those deaths?” he asked outright.

Inwardly she winced. There it was. If she told the truth, they could have her arrested. If she lied … Well, she wasn’t a liar. She widened her eyes and allowed a little frown, tipping her head back to look at him directly. “Why would you think that? How could you even consider such a thing?” Those were fair questions and she had sidestepped answering truthfully.

If Ryland cared enough to check, and he might, he would find she was in the United States at the time of all three “accidents,” but until he had that fact, she was going to dodge every single incriminating question to the best of her ability.

Ryland frowned, studying her face. She knew she looked innocent. That was one of her best gifts, that ability, a natural one that her adopted father had helped her to perfect. Her diminutive size and delicate, almost fragile appearance was an asset. People always underestimated her abilities. She deliberately gave the appearance of a shy, demure woman who spent most of her life indoors.

These men were dominant and protective by nature. She read them easily. They made no attempt to hide what and who they were—warriors, every one of them—and yet they had a soft spot for women and children. To them, women and children represented what they were fighting for. The women and children were the reason they put their lives on the line for the freedom of their country, to keep those they loved safe and protected. That creed was bred into their very bones. As a samurai, she was trained to use every advantage, and her innocent looks aided her in unexpected ways.

Ryland suddenly snapped his head around and his eyes met Sam’s. “Is she full of shit? Or is she for real?”

Her stomach did an unexpected somersault. If there was one person sitting in the room who saw right through her—it was Sam. Ryland was his friend and the leader of his unit, a man Sam respected and felt great affection for. Azami had to suppress a groan. Sam wasn’t going to lie to Ryland, not even for her, and she wouldn’t respect him if he did. It was a lose-lose situation.

For the first time, true tension crept into her. She forced herself to breathe normally, to look as calm and serene as ever. Those strong fingers stroking her bare, inner wrist ceased moving and settled around her arm like a shackle.

“I know she’s the real deal, Ryland,” Sam said, his voice equally low.

Which could mean anything. Azami didn’t dare glance at him. Her heart had begun a strange pounding, the rhythm new to her. She had an unexpected urge to lean over and lift her face to his. His voice was absolutely honest. His simple sentence meant nothing to Ryland, but everything to her.

Her eyes burned for a moment, forcing her to lower her lashes. Her father had stood for her. Her brothers were in another room right at this moment listening so that if necessary, they could fly to her aid and all three might have a chance to fight their way out. Never had anyone else stood up for her, and Sam was not only standing but placing himself in front of her. He believed in her to the point that, although he wasn’t being deceptive, he was still deflecting.

Ryland evidently knew Sam very well. Those steely eyes narrowed. “You’re a damn big help, Knight. If anything, you’re full of shit.”

“I’m telling the absolute truth, Rye,” Sam confirmed.

“I’m sure you are. What the hell’s going on between you two?”

Sam shrugged. “I plan on asking her brothers’ permission to marry her.”

Azami gasped, swinging her head around to look up at him. It was one thing to fight quietly for her, but he was openly aligning himself with her.

Sam’s fingers tightened on her arm, but his gaze was locked with Ryland’s. “Azami is a GhostWalker. She’s one of us and more than that, she’s the one for me. I want you to know that up front. That’s how certain I am of her.”

“And you don’t think that there’s a possibility that you’re blinded by your feelings for her? You just met her. Don’t you think that happened just a little too fast?”

Azami winced. She knew what Ryland was implying. Whitney had somehow managed to pair them together. She kept her head down, long lashes covering her eyes to prevent anyone from seeing distress that might show.

“So how did that work out for you, Ryland?” Sam demanded. He looked around the table. “For any of you with a wife?” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t much care if Whitney paired me with Azami or not, although I don’t see how he could have, but I know she fits with me. There isn’t a doubt in my mind.”

Azami shook her head. As much as she wanted Sam for herself, she couldn’t let him sacrifice. “Let’s slow down. There’s something else you should know, something that may be very pertinent to how you’re feeling right now, Sam.” Her lungs felt squeezed for air, but she had to be fair to him.

“I don’t need to know anything else, Azami,” Sam assured.

The tears burned again and she blinked rapidly, her throat clogging for a moment.

“You might not need to know anything else,” Ryland said. “But I do. Please continue, Azami.”

It was a major concession that he’d used her first name again. His voice had been filled with warning to Sam. She rested her hand over his, a very light measure of caution beneath the table. She didn’t want him to get into trouble with his unit, at least not before he heard what she had to say.

“Whitney’s pairings so far have seemed to fit. I speculated that perhaps that was part of his psychic gift and he clearly has one. Those of you I’ve tried to study a bit seem very grounded by one another, but none of you have been placed in a position that might cause you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“What do you mean?” Ryland asked.

“Suppose you had to make a choice between your wife and your son?”

“There would be no question. My wife would expect me to choose my son. He’s a child who needs help and guidance and love right now. If she suddenly went crazy and wanted to get rid of him, which is what you seem to be implying, then of course I would protect my child.”

Azami didn’t try to hide her relief. “Violet Smythe-Freeman didn’t.”

“She has a child?” Ryland looked around the table at his men. “Are you certain?”

“She aborted the child at Whitney’s demand. And she killed Senator Freeman. He was scheduled for the operation. They had taken him to do the surgery at the hospital and Whitney insisted on seeing Violet. They met at a small private airport. He was alone with her for several hours in a hangar. There appeared to be some sort of field surgery set up in the hangar, but my informant only caught a glimpse of the inside. When she emerged, she appeared different, very submissive toward Whitney, yet flirtatious. She boarded her plane and went straight to the hospital and pulled the plug on the senator, and then insisted on an abortion.”

Ryland frowned. “You believe he paired her with a second man and she immediately killed the senator and his unborn child? She was completely loyal to Freeman. She betrayed all the women in the compound in order to secure an alliance with Whitney.”

“Senator Freeman had no psychic ability. His child would be worthless to Whitney,” Azami pointed out. “Violet is well entrenched in the political arena. She’s intelligent and personable if a bit cold. The camera loves her and there’s talk of her running in the senator’s place. A weeping widow who valiantly fought for her brain-dead husband, trying to find a way to save him, would definitely look good in front of a camera. And her voice is enhanced.”

“Who was she paired with?” Ryland asked.

Azami shook her head. “My informant doesn’t know. Violet was groomed to take a political position in Washington. Whitney wanted her in the White House. The senator was supposed to be the vice president. Violet would have continued to have a great deal of influence. If she is elected to a senatorial position and her loyalty is to Whitney, can you imagine how he could use her to influence his programs?”

Ryland sat up straight, comprehension dawning. “You think Violet Freeman is paired to Whitney himself.”

CHAPTER 11

There was a small silence while the men seated at the table absorbed the idea. Whitney paired, perhaps married to a U. S. senator. What kind of carte blanche would he have for his experiments? The idea was daunting.

“Who is your informant?”

Sam threaded his fingers through Azami’s and held her hand under the table. He wanted to brush his mouth across her knuckles just to show her none of the things she said mattered. He wasn’t afraid of anything Whitney might have done to pair them together. He didn’t see how the man could have, not when Azami hadn’t seen Whitney since she was eight and he had joined the GhostWalker program a few years ago.

“You know I can’t give you that information any more than you’d give it to me,” Azami told Ryland. “You can choose to believe me or not, but the point is, once Whitney got his hands on Violet again, she ceased to be loyal to Freeman.”

Ryland sat back in his chair, assessing Azami for a long time. Sam knew that look. The man respected her, even liked her and was beginning to believe her. “I don’t believe Violet was ever loyal to Freeman. She might have been paired physically with him, but she wants power. She craves it like a drug. Freeman was a means to that power and she obviously controlled him. From all accounts, Violet was different from the other women from your childhood. She wanted status with Whitney and did whatever it took to get it. The more she climbed that ladder, the more power she wanted. Freeman wasn’t a man she fell in love with. The power was what she loved. For a while there she believed she could break away from Whitney and get the things she wanted. If he paired her with him, that allegiance is all about what she can get and the status she can achieve. If you’re right, Azami, she believes she’ll eventually end up in the White House.”

Azami’s breath left her lungs in a little rush. Sam resisted pulling her into his arms to hold her close to him when he heard that soft sound of relief. Ryland had given her the reassurance that Sam couldn’t. The GhostWalkers, paired by Whitney or not, loved one another and still, under even extreme circumstances, would choose to take the honorable path.

“Thank you,” Azami said with a graceful head bow toward Ryland. “I do not want to think that if Whitney gets his hands on one of us, he could turn us against each other.”

“He may think he can,” Ryland said, “but I seriously doubt it.”

The tension drained from Azami. Sam was aware that to his teammates she seemed at ease. He was the only one in the room who knew she was anxious. He wasn’t in her mind, but he could still feel that slight disturbance of her energy. Her gaze lifted to his face, drifting over the hard edges, taking him in. He was no prize, certainly not the handsomest man in the room, but he knew without a doubt, no one else would understand or be as loyal to her as he would.

Azami pressed her lips together and then switched her gaze back to Ryland. “That’s good to know.”

“If this information you’ve given us is true,” Ryland said, “Whitney’s probably been pumping arms and money into the rebel camp for some time in order to gain control of the diamond mines. Tens of thousands of people have lost their lives and still it isn’t enough. Whitney must be determined to gain control, through the rebel forces, of that specific area—that particular diamond mine.”

“Can that diamond be so important to him?” Sam murmured aloud. “Back when Jack and Ken Norton went in with a team to rescue a senator, we believed that senator was part of a coalition trying to get rid of the GhostWalkers. Suppose we were right, but the senator double-crossed Whitney? Suppose Whitney and the senator were originally acting together to get a diamond or diamonds Whitney wanted and the negotiations didn’t go as planned because the senator had other ideas?”