Draden Freeman, aka the “Sandman,” had been a model. He had the kind of body no one believed could be real. He’d been in demand by the largest high-end companies and made bank, enough to put him through college, grad school and his master’s program. When he had his degrees he joined the GhostWalkers. Like Trap, there didn’t seem to be a reasonable explanation for it. He was a man seemingly with everything and yet, like each of them, he was driven to do something all of them knew was a little insane.

Draden was fast with his hands when working with the injured, able to find collapsing veins and salvage the situation when everyone else might think the patient was lost. Wyatt wanted him in his corner if he was wounded. Draden would never stop fighting for a wounded soldier, breathing for them if he had to.

He seemed easygoing enough, much like Wyatt, but like Wyatt, he wasn’t at all. He was moody and ran long distances. Wyatt suspected he ran to distance himself from his demons – whatever they were – but they always came back to haunt him. Draden was a hard worker and never shirked. He often pulled double shifts because he didn’t sleep much. In fact, Wyatt wasn’t certain he actually slept. Certainly he’d never seen the man do so.

Still, Draden had the same loyalty to his team they all had. They were a tight bunch, protecting one another and watching each other for signs of overload. Draden was one of the rare anchors who could pull psychic energy away from any team member who needed it. Like the rest of Team Four, Draden was a natural healer.

The two team members got out of the taxi just at the gates of the Fontenot property. Both looked fit in spite of the fact that they’d been nearly crushed when the helicopter had gone down. Wyatt still wasn’t certain how Draden had survived, buried under the wreckage the way he’d been, or how Trap had gotten to him, moving heavy metal with his arm broken in three places.

They greeted him with their usual half smiles, carrying their duffel bags effortlessly, although both bags weighed a considerable amount. Wyatt gave them a one-handed hug, looking them over for the effects of the firefight they’d been in. Touching both helped him to “see” their injuries. GhostWalkers healed rapidly. That was part of their DNA now, and Trap and Draden, like Malichai and Ezekiel, were nearly 100 percent.

“Thanks for comin’,” he greeted.

Trap shrugged. Draden grinned at him. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Our Wyatt, already a daddy. And three little ones. Triplets, no less. You always said you wanted a big family.”

Malichai and Ezekiel joined in the laughter. Wyatt had sworn off women and declared he was going to his grave an old lonely man rather than deal with one again.

“Bayou man got himself a woman with a knife,” Malichai reported. “Once he saw that, it was over. The love bug bit deep.”

“Bug?” Ezekiel teased. “More like the viper sank her teeth deep.”

Trap raised his eyebrow. “Are you calling his woman a viper?”

“Maybe not his woman, but his little girl has some nice fangs on her,” Ezekiel clarified. “And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Oh, you boys are a laugh a minute,” Wyatt said. “Until one of them accidentally does their teethin’ on you. Ginger’s been eyein’ Malichai lately.”

“Does she really release snake venom?” Trap asked, his eyes serious.

Wyatt turned to lead the way back to the house. “Yes, but I don’ honestly know yet whether or not she has to always release venom when she bites. Most snakes don’ have to and they can control the amount. Pepper told me they were all failed experiments. The three little ones are scheduled for termination.”

Trap’s breath hissed out of his lungs. “That’s bullshit, killing a child you created because you screwed up.”

“They would be difficult to raise,” Draden pointed out. “Not that I advocate killing them, but taking them on is a huge responsibility. They could accidentally kill a family member.”

“Which is why I called both of you to help,” Wyatt said. “Not only do I want to get the other two out of that lab, I want to try to figure out a way to keep us all safe. We can cap their teeth as a temporary solution. Pepper has natural immunity to the cobra venom. I think her body is beginning to develop an immunity to the viper venom as well. If we can find a way to do that, not only for ma famille, but for the GhostWalkers, we could save a few lives.”

“Do you have a lab?” Trap asked. “Because I’ve got one at my house that would be helpful.”

“Unfortunately, Trap,” Wyatt said, “we have to stay here. The children need this place for now, and I have to keep ma grand-mere safe as well.”

Trap shrugged. “No big deal, we can build one here.”

“I’ve got a small one started.”

Trap stood on the porch, duffel bag in hand, looking around the bayou and the Fontenot home. “You build this?”

Wyatt nodded. “We started with a traditional frame home and my brothers and I built this one for Nonny.”

“It’s nice, Wyatt. Really nice,” Trap said. “It feels like a home, not a mausoleum.”

“I can’t wait to meet your grandmother,” Draden said. “You talk so much about her, I feel as if I already know her.”

“She’s the best cook,” Malichai said. “I’m not even hungry. Well…” he hedged. “Okay, an hour or so after I eat, I go back for more. And there’s always more.”