by Tina Donahue
She stiffened a bit in protest. Carreon knew it wasn’t fear. She seemed to have none. Unless that was an act. If she displeased him in the least, he’d have to find out sooner rather than later.
Easing back, he gave her a gentle smile, then leaned over—taking her with him—as he stubbed out the smoke. He used the empty plate Ernez had previously offered her, which he’d eventually put on the coffee table.
“I wasn’t finished,” she said.
“Neither am I.”
With his arm around her waist, he directed her to the credenza. A Cuisinart coffee maker and a stack of Styrofoam cups were to one side, a tray of pastries and bagels to the other.
“You’re hungry?” she murmured.
He ran his fingers over her nipple. At last, her areola tightened, which seemed to lengthen the tip. Gently, he twisted it between his thumb and forefinger. “Very.”
Without further direction, she faced the credenza, bent at the waist and lifted her ass. Her high-heeled boots, along with her parted legs gave Carreon an excellent view of her cunt and anus.
She folded her arms on the furniture, then glanced over and regarded him through a veil of blue-black hair. “Enjoy.”
Was there any doubt?
In no hurry for this to end, Carreon ran his fingers over her smooth cunt, exploring her sex, locating her clit. Despite Trinidad’s nonchalance, her cleft had grown slick with new moisture, lubricated in readiness for a man’s shaft, the nub erect. Testing her reaction, he stroked it.
She wiggled nicely as though unable to help herself. Pleased with her response, Carreon next concentrated on her anus. The ring of flesh was hot, and tight as could be, hugging his little finger as he worked it inside. With that part of her filled, he drove three fingers into her cunt and thumbed her clit.
A gasp escaped her. She actually moaned.
His cock thickened with the sound, the power he had over her. Proving it, Carreon rubbed her clit, noting the increased moisture that generated within her slit. He thought the same thing now as he had earlier. No woman could fake that intimate lubrication. He relished her whimpers, her struggle for air.
Ernez spoke to the man he’d called, telling him what they needed.
Trinidad’s sheath tightened around Carreon’s fingers. She was nearing climax, all because of what he was doing to her.
He stopped immediately and pulled both hands away, giving her no time to question his action or to protest. Already he’d lowered his fly and released his stiffened cock, thick with arousal, so sensitive he had to grit his teeth to keep from making any sound.
Unceremoniously, he buried his shaft in her cunt until she’d taken him to its root. The snug fit, her wet heat made Carreon forget everything except his own pleasure. Drowning in her warmth, he thrust into her again and again, taking what he wanted.
Ernez finished his call. He waited patiently to the side to provide his report.
Carreon didn’t acknowledge him. Trinidad, on the other hand, turned her face to the man, giving him her attention.
Fuck that. Carreon slipped his hand between her legs and stroked her clit. Her back arched in response to what he knew were the powerful sensations rolling through her. However, she didn’t turn away from Ernez.
For that, Carreon knew he’d punish her. Later. Now, he rubbed harder, faster, as he continued to drive his cock into her, demanding she focus on what he was doing to the exclusion of all else, wanting her to climax.
She lowered her head and offered an extravagant moan that signaled her release. Gripping her ass, Carreon thrust into her as hard as he could, enjoying what was his, proving his dominance. On an uninhibited growl, he came.
For the next several moments, her huffing and his merged, the same as their bodies.
Ernez waited until the sounds had quieted, then spoke with caution. “He’s working on it now. He’ll let us know when you can send your message.”
A bead of perspiration skimmed Carreon’s cheek, then slipped to his jaw and dropped. It fell on the small of Trinidad’s back. She inhaled deeply in answer.
To the side, Maria made an inarticulate sound, part gurgling mixed with a grunt that proved how useless she was as a stripper and a mother. However, those sounds would soon bring Liz back to him.
This was inconceivable. Worse, it was insane.
Liz argued with her father as she’d never done before. “You really expect me not to heal you if you’re injured? That I’d save myself instead? You actually believe I wouldn’t heal Zeke or Jacob if something were to happen to them?”
“You have no choice.”
“That’s bull, Papa. You know it.” Liz stopped pacing. She went to the side of his bed and looked down at him. Despite his messy hair and cheeks roughened with white stubble, he was still an elegant man and all too kind. “You’re lying, right? This is no different from what you told Carreon when he wanted you to heal his men. You’re just trying to protect me, that’s all.”
“No.”
Liz stared at him, not certain whether he was telling the truth or not. All of her life, she’d believed everything he’d said without question. Then, Carreon had killed her. On the other side, she’d spoken to her mother, who’d revealed the secret Liz’s father had always alluded to but never exposed.
“Many times your father lied to keep from healing the fallen,” she’d said, “telling Carreon they were too far gone to help or that he could only bring them so far, which left them in a vegetative state. He also lied to protect you.”
He had to be doing the same now.
As though her father had read Liz’s mind, he took her hands in his, holding them gently. “You can’t risk healing anyone or bringing them back. Not me. Not Zeke or Jacob. If you do…” He seemed unable to finish. His chin trembled.
Oh God. She brought back her hands. “You expect me to do nothing and watch all of you die?”
“It may not come to that.”
“But it could,” she cried. “Carreon’s not going to give up until he has both of us back, along with Zeke.”
“That’s why we have to stay here.”
He’d said it so easily, as though it were a real solution when it was not.
Liz recalled how Zeke’s people had tried to block their entry into the stronghold. What if Isabel’s hostility flared again, convincing the others she’d been right after all, with that overruling the previous vote they’d taken?
“For how long?” Liz asked, then thought of something else that had slipped her mind. “What about my practice?”
She’d left abruptly the night Carreon and three of his lieutenants had come for her so she could heal Zeke. She hadn’t returned or given any indication when she’d be back. Surely, her staff wondered where she was, what had happened. By now, they might have thought to contact the police and report her as missing.
“Carreon forced me to call there,” her father said. “I spoke to your receptionist and explained there was a family emergency. That you wouldn’t be in for several weeks. When that time’s passed, we’ll contact them again somehow.”
Liz pushed her fingers through her hair, feeling like a caged animal suddenly. “I can’t accept this. There has to be something I can do to use my gift.” She grabbed his hand that bore the reddish stain, which marked him as a healer. “If you push as much of your life force into me as possible, then—”
“No.” He yanked back his hand, his sudden strength surprising. “I don’t know what it will do to you. It may be too much for your body to handle since I brought you back. Something’s changed in your physiology. I saw it in the Jeep. I didn’t consider it at the time. I simply reacted to you losing consciousness. I could have harmed you forever then. I might have killed you with no way of restoring your life.”
Liz’s breath hitched. Her pulse raced at the thought of dying at her father’s hands and only because he’d tried to save her.
However, that hadn’t happened, had it? She refused to accept that it ever could. “You didn’
t. If you go slowly, you can pour enough of your life force into me that my body stores it. Then I can heal again without any bad effects.”
He crossed his arms over his narrow chest. “We don’t know that, and we won’t. I refuse to chance it. Not to save myself. Not to save Zeke or Jacob.”
He couldn’t mean that. Liz recalled how close Zeke and Jacob had come to death. How she’d caressed them as she healed, coaxing them to take their first full breaths, feeling their hearts beating strongly again.
“Please,” she begged.
Her father turned away, refusing to listen.
Zeke, Jacob and Kele had left the stronghold from a rarely used exit that allowed for foot rather than vehicle traffic.
A gust of wind whipped their garments and drove dust into their faces. Squinting, Zeke held his hand over his nose and mouth until the air settled. His brother and Kele did the same.
The sun beat down from a flawless sky, heating the ground to a point that it shimmered in the distance, creating a mirage that resembled a large pool of water. Bleached rocks and stunted vegetation disputed that notion. Plant life ran uninterrupted along the base of the mountain range. Some of the soil glittered from minerals within it.
Zeke turned, then gestured for Jacob and Kele to follow.
They carried assault rifles and their two-way radios clipped to their jeans. It hadn’t been Zeke’s idea for Kele to join them. She’d insisted, wanting to prove her loyalty.
“It doesn’t matter if I die,” she’d said to him when he demanded she stay in the stronghold.
“It matters to me,” Jacob argued. “It matters to all of us. You’re being foolish.”
“I have to do this,” she said to him, then spoke to Zeke. “I’m asking you to let me. Give me a chance to prove my loyalty.”
He hadn’t wanted to take the time to argue with her, so here they were, circling the area, coming upon the intruder from behind.
His vehicle was nowhere in sight, his attention on the ground. If he was an ordinary hiker, it might be that he was looking for some pretty rocks to take home with him. Could be he was a grad student, studying desert flora or insects and was in the desert to collect samples of each, storing them into his backpack that hung over one shoulder.
Of course, he might be studying the ground because he was searching for tire tracks that would lead him to the stronghold’s location. That wasn’t something Zeke had worried about until now. This area was so remote there were no roads or trails nearby. No hikers had ever come this far. No hikers had ever been in one of his visions.
Carefully, Zeke and the others approached. The wind was on their side, blowing in their faces, not delivering their scent or the sound of their footfalls to the intruder.
He focused on something to the right, then moved toward it.
The white plume of a jet streaked across the sky. Closer to earth, birds flew past, perhaps on their way to the corpses of Carreon’s three lieutenants.
This man hunkered down and studied the soil. Past him, the wind had whipped up a dust devil that whirled for several moments only to blow itself out.
Perspiration coated the back of Zeke’s neck. A drop rolled down his spine. He held his breath.
Now.
He signaled to Jacob and Kele. They raised their assault rifles in concert with him. However, they’d promised not to fire unless Zeke gave the signal. No way was his vision going to play out with bullets striking this man in his belly and heart. Even if that happened somehow, Liz would never know. Zeke would see to it, not allowing her to reanimate this guy or anyone else.
“Show me your hands or you’re dead,” Zeke said.
The young man turned and stared at the three rifles pointed at him. He raised his hands as he pushed to his feet.
The wind pulled at his hair just as it had in Zeke’s vision. Dust coated his clothing as though he’d been out here awhile. Why?
“I mean you no harm,” he said.
Sure. “Drop your backpack.”
He did instantly. It landed on the ground with a muted whap, dirt scattering around it.
Zeke gestured to Jacob. His brother grabbed the rucksack. When he was a safe distance from the young man, Jacob opened the top flap and examined the contents.
“It’s just water and food,” the intruder said.
Jacob nodded. “He’s right.” Leaving the item, he went to the man. “Hands behind your head.”
Immediately, the intruder assumed the position. Jacob patted him down. He even checked his socks and shoes, then stood. “No weapons.”
That should have been a good thing, but it didn’t ease Zeke’s tension. If this man was nothing more than a hiker or grad student, letting him go could prove problematic. Back home, he’d talk about being threatened by a group of people with weapons. He might interest the cops in why anyone was in this particular location. The authorities might believe drugs were involved and could possibly investigate.
To avoid that, they’d have to keep the young man here as their newest prisoner. Surely he had a family, possibly a wife and maybe even a kid. What would they think when he didn’t return? What would they do?
Shit. “Why are you here?” Zeke asked.
The young man lowered his arms, then froze as though he realized the movement might get him shot because he hadn’t obeyed. When that didn’t happen, he blurted, “I’m looking for Liz.”
Of course he was. Carreon had sent him after all. That made all of this so much easier than having to keep him from a normal life, a wife and child that certainly didn’t exist.
With the mention of Liz’s name, Jacob had grabbed his two-way radio. He spoke into it. “What are the cameras showing?”
“Nothing,” the voice crackled back. It sounded like Ike’s.
“How far away are you looking?” Jacob asked.
“As far as we can go. No one’s out there. No vehicles are headed this way.”
Zeke didn’t get it. This guy was alone and unarmed but was still looking for Liz? “Check the food,” he said, half expecting some toxin or explosive to be inside.
“I’ll do it,” Kele offered.
She sniffed the bottled water, then poured it out and waited. After several seconds, she said, “The ants are still alive.” She next opened the candy bars and trail mix, showing both to Zeke.
The food proved to be exactly what the packages said.
“Hidden compartments?” Zeke asked.
“There are none,” the intruder said.
Kele checked anyway. “Nothing.” She held the backpack at an angle so Zeke could see there wasn’t anything inside.
“How do you know Liz?” Zeke asked.
“All of our clan knows who she and her father are. That she’s healed for Carreon.”
“Your leader,” Zeke said.
“No.” The young man matched Zeke’s frown. “My half brother. I’m his oldest sibling, Diaz.”
Chapter Nine
Unable to tolerate the unacceptable, Liz left her father’s room.
She heard him scrambling to his feet behind her, the bedsprings creaking as he left the mattress. He called from the doorway, “Liz, don’t. Zeke wants you in here.”
Zeke wanted a lot of things she didn’t agree with, couldn’t accept.
She walked backward, away from her father as she spoke. “I’ll be fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Liz!”
He wasn’t young enough to catch up with her. Liz used that to her advantage and roamed the stronghold, searching for Zeke. She had to convince him that he and her father were wrong. There wasn’t anything the matter with her.
So what if she’d fainted in the Jeep—something she still couldn’t accept. Anything could have caused it. Exhaustion. Continuing terror at what Carreon would do. Any freaking thing.
Even if it were more than that, she had to heal no matter the consequences. She couldn’t just let the people she loved slip away while she remained safe. How could she live with herself
after that? Losing her father was unthinkable. Never seeing Zeke again was a possibility she couldn’t endure. There was no way she wanted to go on without him.
There had to be a solution to this. If she began slowly, tending to a small cut perhaps, then working her way up to more serious injuries, surely nothing bad would happen. Zeke would see that she remained alert and alive. He’d stop this nonsense, no longer keeping her from fighting at his side to insure his safety.
In the kitchen, women and men were preparing food. Upon seeing her, they exchanged glances, then stared without offering any greeting or challenge. Liz couldn’t recall which of these women had voted for her and her father to leave the stronghold.
“Hi,” she said, having no other choice than to speak first.
No one offered a greeting in return.
Liz hadn’t really expected one, but there had still been some hope, which she dismissed quickly. She spoke on a sigh. “I’m looking for Zeke. Do you know where he is?”
Each of the women and the few men shook their heads.
Whether they were lying or not wasn’t something Liz could determine.
She checked the dining hall next. Not there. Nor was he in the large communal room where the youngest of the children sometimes played while the adults relaxed nearby.
Liz recalled the last time she’d been in the bosque, an area of thick vegetation hidden between the mountain’s many peaks. There the older children had a chance to play outside, run off their energy. Salt cedar trees and cottonwood provided shade and some relief from the blistering temperatures.
Today, no one was out here. Leaves rustled in the scant breeze, parting momentarily to allow the brutal sun to shine through.
After returning inside, Liz went down countless halls and finally ended up in an area with a long table and numerous chairs, reminiscent of an office’s conference room. It was also empty.
Where was everyone, aside from those in the kitchen? Especially the men? Did Zeke have them on guard duty to make certain the stronghold was safe since Carreon’s last attack? Had they holed up in some hidden room, while they planned an assault on him? What if Zeke got injured…or killed…during the strike? What if Jacob or the other men couldn’t retrieve his body and bring it back for her or her father to reanimate?