Viper Game by Christine Feehan
His mind began to race with the impossible. If Whitney had found her in India, he wouldn't have bothered with her unless she had psychic ability. Ezekiel could control reptiles - a very rare gift. Nonny did to a lesser extent, as did Wyatt. But it was rare to be like them. As far as he knew no other GhostWalker had that gift.
Pepper might have been abandoned, as female children often were, especially if she came from parents not of Indian descent and was an orphan. Most likely she'd been found in the areas where deforestation had taken place, displacing snakes. If she had the ability to control snakes, as a child, would she have tried to play with them? Would she have been bitten? If she had, he doubted if the snake would release much of its venom into her, not with her gift. Was it possible that over time she'd developed an immunity to snakes on her own?
Pepper nodded. "I had several scars, but they were removed when I was a teenager."
It was all coming together in his mind, just like it did when he was on the path to finding answers in his own lab. "Can you control a snake with your mind?"
Ezekiel swung his head toward Wyatt and then back toward Pepper, waiting for an answer. Wyatt knew that Ezekiel had spent the night outside his grandmother's bedroom, and that he'd whispered to Ginger telepathically each time he heard her wake.
It was no wonder Pepper had been put in charge of the three babies. Wyatt already knew the answer to his question. Pepper definitely could control snakes.
"Yes," Pepper admitted, her voice so low it was almost impossible to catch.
"It's all makin' sense now," Wyatt said. "You were the inspiration behind his great plan."
"You keep saying 'him.' You mean Dr. Whitney. I never saw Dr. Whitney when I was young. Only Braden. Whitney came later, after the children were born." Pepper frowned in concentration. "I see where you're going with this, but even if I was bitten repeatedly as a child and built up enough of the venom in my system, wouldn't I have to keep getting bit for the toxins to remain at high enough levels in my system to do any good? And could my liver handle that?"
"Some of the best snake handlers gave themselves venom daily and it worked to keep them alive," Wyatt pointed out. "A few used diluted venom and others used pure venom."
"But they would have had to have daily injections," Pepper pointed out.
"What if your body, as a child, adapted to the venom?" Wyatt said. "We're always adaptin'. If one or both of your parents handled snakes, specifically cobras or kraits, and were bitten repeatedly..." He trailed off, his mind moving fast.
"Wait a minute," Malichai interrupted. "Are you saying she could have been born already immune to a cobra bite? That her parents passed that to her?"
"I think it's possible. If she was born with receptors that have one difference from ours, the bulky sugar coatin', she might have been able to survive a bite as a child." He also thought it possible that Whitney had discovered her when her parents were alive and he'd made her an orphan so he could have her. That would have been just like him.
Pepper was intelligent, she understood exactly what they were talking about, and if her parents were prominent in the field of herpetology, they could have come to Whitney's attention. He would have considered Pepper extraordinary. She was intelligent, gifted and possibly an answer to a universal antivenom.
"Why doesn't a viper bite cause necrosis of the skin? Even the most careful and famous of snake handlers have lost fingers," Malichai asked her.
"That's a good question," Ezekiel agreed.
"What do you do when you're bitten by one of the babies, Pepper? We'll all need to know, especially Nonny," Wyatt said.
Pepper frowned, thinking it over. "My response feels automatic so I have to actually go through the steps I take right now in my mind. I know what's coming the moment I've been bitten. I slow my heart, cool my body temperature and flood the bite site with as much oxygen and cold as possible."
Wyatt nodded. "That's how she keeps the site from necrosis. She fills the tissues surroundin' the bite with oxygen while she lowers the body temperature around the site." His eyes met Pepper's. "I'll need a sample of your blood. Maybe I can figure out what's not quite right about the mixture they gave you."
"I'm still pretty sick."
"From the viper venom, not the cobra venom. And when I tried to heal you, I could see how fast your body absorbed the venom to neutralize it. You're healin' fast, faster than I ever expected, but still, a soldier won' have a bed and fluids and painkillers to get him through, out in the field. But, any GhostWalker can control their body to the point of lowering body temperature and..."
"Now you're beginnin' to sound like a mad scientist, Wyatt," Nonny reprimanded. "What's all this nonsense anyway? I want you and the boys to go get my great-grandbabies. Now, Wyatt. They're all alone in that horrible place."
Chapter 7
Wyatt took a breath before he answered his grandmother. When she asked for something - anything at all - his tendency was to get it for her immediately. She was everything to him and his brothers. She was home. She was family. He knew why she felt such an urge to go get the other two little babies out of that hellhole, but he also knew someone would come after them and he had to be prepared. Already, they were at risk because they'd taken in Pepper and Ginger.
"Nonny, we can't rush off and just grab the other two babies without some kind of plan in place to protect them and all of us. Someone is goin' to come lookin' for them," Wyatt objected. "We also need to know anyone around them is safe from accidental bites. I want the children out as fast as you do, but we'll need help."
"Call Flame," Nonny said. "She'll come a runnin' and she loves children. You know how she longs for children."
"No." Wyatt stared his grandmother down. "Absolutely not. Don' even think about callin' her. She'd come in a second, yes, but she's Gator's entire world. He wouldn't survive without her and you know that. He nearly lost her once and I'm not about to take any chances with her, not until I know she'll be safe."
"She would be a huge help even with the rescue," Nonny said. "And her feelin's might be hurt if you didn' call her."
"Maybe," Wyatt conceded, "but I never had a sister until Flame came along. We're not chancin' it, Nonny. It's bad enough takin' chances with your life. If somethin' happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."
"Don' you go a thinkin' you're gonna be bossin' me around, Wyatt Fontenot. I'm not leavin' my own house. I can see it in your eyes. You're a thinkin' you'll send me away too, but these are my great-grandchildren and I'm goin' to help them."
He knew his grandmother and how stubborn she was. He also knew that all the years she'd spent in the swamps and bayous, running free as a child and hunting game and flowers and herbs, she'd never once been bitten. Not a single time. Like all of them, she'd encountered her share of venomous snakes, but they'd left her alone. Of all of them, Nonny might actually be the safest.
"So what do you want us to do, Wyatt?" Ezekiel, ever the practical, asked.
"Let's get the house set up for all three babies. We'll need cribs and blankets and high chairs." Wyatt turned to Pepper. "Do they drink milk, or formula?"
"All of them drink milk and they prefer it warm."
"How soon before you're on your feet?" he asked.
"Another day. Two if I need to fight."
"So we'll need at least two days before we can go in, Nonny. At least that. We need to build a fortress here, and I have to set up my lab and get the house prepared. We've got a lot to do." He pressed Pepper's hand closer to his chest. "Are you certain they'll be safe, that no one will decide it's best to terminate them?"
He no longer believed that was the goal. Whitney liked to play games. He liked to experiment, but he would never risk losing Pepper and the three little girls, not when they were clearly so important to him. Wyatt's mind began to fill in the puzzle pieces. Whitney wanted him to know the girls were his daughters. He wanted him to break into the secure facility to remove them from harm. He might even be planning to throw all ki
Pepper stirred, drawing his gaze. Her eyes met his, the brilliant starburst of diamonds showing through the nearly purple, midnight sky. "Has it occurred to you that none of his scientists could figure out how to make the antivenom in my body work for anyone else? And that he expects you'll have to do it. That you'll have to find a way to make the children less lethal? And when you do..."
"He'll come after them again."
Pepper was getting tired. He could tell by her voice - the soft, sultry note had crept back in. He didn't reprimand or remind her. He set his teeth and endured it, not looking at Ezekiel or Malichai, hoping they could see how worn out she was.
"The minute you said you needed my blood, I knew you were more than a soldier. You really are a genius, aren't you? Both you and Nonny, and along with that, you're chemists and deal with toxins all the time."
Wyatt nodded slowly. "The swamp has many plants that cure and take away pain, but it also has plants that can kill in minutes."
Pepper made a small sound in the back of her throat, her large eyes on him. Fringed with impossibly long feathery lashes, her eyes pulled at him. They were filled with fear, and this time she didn't try to hide it.
"You're risking your life, Wyatt. Whoever this man is, he's after you."
Wyatt shook his head slowly, once more bringing her hand to his mouth. He nibbled on her fingers for a brief moment, holding her gaze, enjoying the fact that she was worried about him. "No, he's too cold to make anythin' personal, babe. He's all about science. I'm all about famille. He just thinks I'm all about science."
He had a full lab in the garage. He'd had one since he was a child, experimenting with the various plant extracts in order to perfect the drugs for the people in the bayou that couldn't afford medical care. Maybe all along he was using the things Joy had said to him as his excuse for joining the GhostWalkers, when it really was the science. Whitney would certainly see it that way.
Dr. Peter Whitney didn't understand families, and he'd never be able to understand a family like Wyatt's. His grandmother had sacrificed everything, including an education, to take care of her parents. She had taken on the four boys when their mother and father had died in an accident. She'd done so instantly and without a thought to what it would cost her. She gave herself selflessly to the people in the bayou, helping the older ones who couldn't hunt or fish by bringing them food and clothing. And her pharmaceutical field was magnificent.
In Whitney's eyes, Nonny was uneducated and backwoods. That's what he saw when he looked at her, not any of the rest of it. Wyatt doubted if the man even knew the boys got their high IQs from their grandmother.
"We've got only a few days to pull the house together, childproof it and put in extra security. I don' want to leave the children there any longer than I have to." He shot a glance at his grandmother, wanting her to understand. "I'm goin' to call in a couple more of my friends. They'll help build up our security and the lab. Once I sort out a way to ensure if someone is accidentally bit that we can minimize the damage to them, I'll call Flame and ask her to help." He made that concession to his grandmother.
The truth was, his brother's wife would be a huge help. Flame could get in and out of places few others could. But she was his brother's world and he'd nearly lost her to cancer. Whitney had repeatedly given Flame cancer. She was one of his throwaways.
Wyatt loved her as if she'd been born into the family. It broke his heart that she couldn't have children and he knew she would love nothing more than to help them, but he wasn't going to risk her no matter what Grand-mere or Flame said.
"Let's get to work," Ezekiel said. "Ma'am?" At Nonny's sharp glance he cleared his throat and tried again. "Grand-mere, do you mind if I go exploring in your attic? If the high chair was up there, we might find a crib or two. I'm handy with tools and if they need repairing, I can do it."
"I'll go up with you, Ezekiel," Nonny offered. "It would be nice to bring life back to some of the things I've cherished in my lifetime."
Wyatt finally turned his head and looked at Ginger. He'd been avoiding her gaze throughout the conversation. He didn't know the first thing about babies, but something told him this one was very sensitive. "Ginger, I know you're sick of people pokin' and proddin' you, but I'd like to take a look in your mouth and take a few samples of your saliva."
The child turned her head to look at Pepper, her little fingers signing.
Pepper signed back, reassuring her. "Her saliva isn't venomous, as one would think it would be. The doctors in the first lab were shocked by that. If she were made like a snake, she would be secreting the venom in her saliva."
Wyatt frowned. "That's interestin'." He caught Pepper's look. "Don' be thinkin' I'm goin' to turn my daughter into a guinea pig. She isn' a test tube for me. I'll need to study her to see how I can keep others safe and maybe reduce the risks to her as well. However, I will be askin' you to help me out quite a bit. You know what the danger is in havin' three baby vipers around."
"Don't call them that." Pepper glared at him.
He grinned at her, unrepentant. "It was said with affection, woman. Get a sense of humor. You're goin' to need one around my Cadien famille."
He didn't take his gaze from hers, feeling her through their connection, the slow, smoldering burn that was more sexual than angry. She was fighting her attraction to him, and he'd already decided they weren't going to fight it, they were going to go with it. She just hadn't caught up yet.
Havin' a hard time keepin' your hands off me, aren' you? Must be the famous Fontenot charm at work.
A faint smile curved her mouth into a woman's secret weapon. She could take his breath away without half trying. Images of her mouth wrapped around his cock rose up fast and hot, her hair spilling around him, brushing his bare skin. The image was so vivid he could actually feel the sensations.
He blew out his breath and stretched his legs out in front of him to give himself some relief from the instant tight agony of urgent need.
Is that what you call it? Fontenot charm? I don't think so, bayou man. I think you're used to getting your way with the women and you don't have to try very hard.
He had to get up, just for a minute, ease away from her just enough to function. She would be addictive. He already knew that and was past caring. He would crave her every day, every minute, but he had all the confidence in the world that he could make her feel exactly the same way.
When he'd managed to breathe away most of his hard-on, he winked at her and got up to pour himself a cup of coffee. He was just going to have to get used to the idea of walking around semihard all the time. It wasn't a bad way to live, at least he knew he was alive.
He held up the coffee cup. Hot. Just the way I like it.
She rolled her eyes at him.
"If you two are finished making googly eyes at each other," Malichai said, pushing himself away from the table, "I'll do the dishes and get the kitchen clean while Grand-mere and Ezekiel go up to the attic."
"Pepper, you should lie down for a while," Nonny said with a small, telling glance at Wyatt. "I don' think we have toys for the baby, but maybe she could play on your bed for a bit."
"She wouldn't know what a toy was," Pepper said. "They don't have the babies playing. Not like you mean. Everything they're exposed to is to educate them. They're learning six languages as well as sign language. It's crazy the accelerated program they're on."
Nonny's eyebrows shot up. "Surely they had playtime for them."
Pepper shook her head. "Braden even had a martial arts instructor come in and start working with them. Everything they've been shown on the television has been instructional videos on hand-to-hand combat, weapons, or things like mathematics, of course the beginnings, but they know the alphabet or characters of all the languages and at night, not only are they read to, but the words, as they're being read, are up on a screen."
"That's not right." Wyatt glared at
He was asking her questions, but she had to stop using that soft, sultry, I'm-so-ready-for-bed voice. It didn't help to think of her in bed - his bed. He stood across the room from her, just looking at her. Beautiful. A work of art. She was as perfect as a woman could get with her face and flawless body, with her brain and her courage. And the knife he knew she had on her right now.
Pepper frowned. "It wasn't my decision. I was raised pretty much the same way. It definitely made me a good soldier, but when I got out into the real world, I had no idea what people were talking about. I didn't know the movies they referred to or the characters in cartoons. I didn't know fairy tales or anything but history and what Braden considered appropriate literature that would further my education. The lack of that made me feel socially awkward. I don't fit in anywhere."
Wyatt went very still. He felt a flash of her pain, of hurt - not physical, but a kind of anguish at the knowledge that she was different and would never be normal. She would never fit in anywhere. She felt absolutely alone, a terrible, almost emptiness that had been filled for a moment when Wyatt had poured himself into her. For that moment, she had felt whole. Content. Even happy.
He had been caught up in the way he felt. The sexual tension building between them. Fitting her into his family. Keeping her from tempting his friends so he wouldn't be a fool and do something he'd regret. All about him. He hadn't stopped to consider what she felt, trapped in his home, her child claimed by a man she didn't know or trust. She was biding her time - waiting until she was at full strength before she made her move to leave.
He went to her, ignoring the others, and gently helped her to stand. Handing her the nearly empty bag of fluids, he lifted her into his arms. "I'm not goin' to hurt you, Pepper," he murmured softly, needing to give her reassurance even more than she needed to hear it. He couldn't bear for her to feel afraid, or lonely or a misfit.
She pressed her lips together tightly and gave a little shake of her head. She knew what he meant.