by Tina Donahue
Was she joking? Isabel wanted him to deny his future with Liz, and she was somehow going to make that all right? “I don’t want to hear it.”
She continued, “As each new generation takes the place of the last, I’ve made them forget that I was there during the time of their grandparents and great grandparents. I’ll do the same with you when it comes to that woman. You won’t hurt anymore if you can no longer remember—”
“No.” Zeke trembled with fear and fury. “You can’t take Liz away from me. No matter what you try to do, I’ll always know something’s missing…I’ll always be searching for her.” He put more distance between them. “I’ll leave with Liz, her father and Jacob immediately. Somehow, Jacob and I will fight Carreon without the rest of the clan’s help. You and your kind can have the damn land, this place and all of your stupid gifts. I don’t want them. I never asked for any of this.”
“Your people need you here with them. Your ability to see the future, your enemies’ plans, protects them from Carreon and his men.”
Zeke tightened his fists. “My visions have always taunted more than they’ve helped. Most of the time they’re impossible to understand.”
“Because you’ve always fought them,” she argued. “Submit to your heritage. Accept it as you should.”
“Accept it?” Disgust laced his words. “It’s your kind—the Others—that started this mess. You’re one of them, not us. You have an obligation to my people to secure their future since your kind has jeopardized it from the start.”
“I haven’t the power to prophesize,” she said. “None of my kind do. It happened only because we mated with your people. A gift none of us expected or planned. I’m no more than a guardian.”
“With the ability to wipe a loved one from someone’s mind. To rip that from them. Do you hate me so much that you’re willing to destroy the only thing that’s made me want to go on?”
Her pity from a moment before turned to shock. She spoke more quietly than she had previously. “I love you as if you were my own son, Zeke. I feel the same about your people, as though they truly are my family. It’s not an emotion my kind knows, but I’ve learned it over the centuries…a gift I received from your clan. That’s why I revealed what I am to you, something I’ve never done with anyone else. Something I wasn’t supposed to do. I’m giving you the chance to let me help you to forget Liz and her father. I’m giving you the choice, rather than forcing it upon you.”
He stepped back again, wary that she would touch him and that would take Liz from him forever. “I’ve already told you, I don’t want it. I’ll never agree to such a thing. If I can’t be with Liz, if she’s not a part of my past, present and future, I’d rather be dead.”
“Don’t say that.”
Zeke’s shoulders bunched. His muscles tensed. “Losing Gabrielle nearly destroyed me. You know that. You saw. You talk of love as though you understand it, but you don’t. If you had even the remotest clue about its power, you wouldn’t be telling me these things, threatening me because I won’t—”
“I’m not threatening you,” she insisted. “I’m simply asking you to do what you were born to do.”
“And what’s that? Protect territory for your kind? A piece of dirt? Why? So they can prove they won against Carreon’s clan and the Unknowns, then return like kings? Or was this all done in their hope to colonize a new planet in case they had to flee theirs? Is that it? They’re going to rule Earth after my people, my ancestors, the ones I’ve loved have died or been traumatized for their ends?”
“If you don’t honor them, they will return. What will happen to your people and Liz then?”
Zeke wanted to cry out his frustration and despair at the thought of anyone…anything…harming them. He spoke without thinking. “I’ll fight them too, as I have Carreon. I won’t stop until they’re gone or I’m dead. No one’s going to hurt Liz or my people.”
“You can’t fight my kind,” Isabel whispered.
Maybe not with weapons, but there were other ways, weren’t there? “You say you love me as a son, prove it now.”
She frowned. “I’ve proven it every day since you’ve brought Liz here. I’ve made no move to stop that other than trying to reason with you.”
“Give me time to make this right.”
“There is no more time, Zeke. Every moment she’s here makes it worse for your people and hers. I overheard the men talking about Carreon’s transmission, his threats. I know what he plans to do.”
“We’ll find him before anything happens,” Zeke said. “We’ll destroy him.”
“You’ll put your clan at risk again.”
“I’ll do it alone, then.”
“No. You’re the leader. Your people need you.”
“I’ll work this out,” Zeke argued. “Carreon’s offered twelve hours. Can’t you promise me the same amount of time? Is that so much to ask?”
She regarded him cautiously. “If I were to grant that, what happens then?”
He was afraid to consider it. This time there was no way he could fail.
Kele stared at her computer monitor with one thought running through her mind. You can’t give up now. You have to do this.
There was simply no other option.
Hours earlier, after having watched Carreon’s transmission, Zeke had left the meeting room with Liz and Jacob. Isabel’s voice had sounded in the hall, stopping Zeke. From what he’d said, he’d gone somewhere with the older woman only to return to this room a short time later, his face ashen with worry.
“What’s wrong?” Paul had asked him.
“Has anyone shown the tape to the prisoners as I wanted?”
“We’re headed that way now.”
Zeke grabbed the laptop before Paul could. The man followed Zeke out of the room.
“Hey,” Diaz said when Kele went to join them. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back in a minute. Keep working on our plan.”
She caught up with Zeke and Paul. Zeke didn’t seem to notice her presence. Paul frowned. Kele ignored his disapproval, wanting to hear what the prisoners said.
The men weren’t as cocky as they’d been previously. However, they weren’t a great help either. They watched the recording and offered no comment.
“Where did this take place?” Zeke demanded.
The bulkier of the men spoke first. “I don’t know.”
Zeke growled, “The hell you don’t.” He grabbed Paul’s assault rifle, resting the muzzle of it on the man’s forehead. “Tell me, dammit. Do it now, or I swear I’ll pull the trigger.”
“I don’t know!” he cried, his complexion gray with fear. “I’ve never seen that place before.”
“What about you?” Zeke snapped at the other man, training the rifle on him.
The man stared at the muzzle and shook his head.
“You’re fucking lying,” Zeke shouted. He tossed the weapon on the bed and grabbed the man’s shirt, hauling him up as much as he could given the man’s hand cuffed to the arm of the chair. The manacles around his ankles clattered. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know even if I have to beat it out of you.”
“Zeke.” Paul grabbed his arm. “Easy.”
The last time Kele had seen Zeke so desperate and violent was after Gabrielle’s death when the shock of losing her had worn off. There was no stupor in him now. Rage burned in his eyes. Behind it, she saw fathomless dread. Repeatedly, he pressed for answers from both men, forcing them to watch the video over and over.
No matter how many times or ways Zeke asked his questions, he didn’t get the responses he wanted.
Eventually, Jacob had joined them. Clearly alarmed at his brother’s behavior, he’d pulled Zeke aside and asked, “What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” Zeke shot back. “They’re going to talk.”
“Whoa. Not if you kill them,” Jacob said.
“I won’t if I don’t have to. That’s up to them. Get out of my way.”
“Wait.” Jacob blocked Zeke from the prisoners. “What’s happened? What did Isabel want to talk to you about?”
Zeke wouldn’t tell Jacob. He pushed past his brother and concentrated again on the prisoners.
When Kele had left the room, Carreon’s men were looking to Jacob for protection against Zeke who was so despairing and exhausted he seemed on the verge of collapse.
Fatigue hunched Kele’s shoulders now, which she forced herself to ignore. She was so close.
Although she hadn’t been able to do much more than Paul had with the image-enhancing software, she’d taken what she was able to see and searched the Internet for similar calendars. A short while ago, she’d gotten a hit. A strip club in Albuquerque offered the calendar as a gift to its loyal patrons. Digging deeper, she’d learned that the club had once belonged to Carreon’s father. And now, to him.
She was certain he was there, waiting out the hours until Liz returned. Or until he had his man murder that other woman.
Bastard.
If not for Carreon, Zeke and Jacob would never have been near death. Liz wouldn’t have come here to restore Jacob’s health. The fight between their clans wouldn’t have escalated. Kele wouldn’t have put her own people at risk for a man who’d never loved her as she desired.
Shame rolled through her, making her sick. She should have left when her clan demanded it upon Zeke’s and Liz’s re—
“How much longer are you going to be?” Diaz asked, breaking into her thoughts. “We’ve already perfected our plan.”
“I don’t want anything to go wrong.”
“We’ve made it as perfect as we can. That’s all we can do.”
Kele didn’t comment, nor did she move from her computer.
Diaz sighed loudly. “It’s been a half hour since Ike told us Zeke approved our strategy and to let us leave when the time came. That’s now. We have to get Pedro.”
“We can’t go until it’s safe.”
“What are you talking about? When is that supposed to be?”
Kele looked at her computer screen, the time. “In a little bit.”
“Why wait? It’s been dark for quite a while. The drive there is going to take a couple of hours.”
The route to the strip club would take even longer. However, Kele didn’t want to arrive too quickly. “I promise we’ll get your cousin…I just want to make certain I have all of this down.”
Slumped in his chair, Diaz reviewed the strategy he’d written in longhand, no doubt believing Kele had keyed the same into her computer and that’s what she was going through now.
She wanted to keep it that way. “There’s a bedroom down the hall, second door on the left. You should take a nap. Rest before we have to leave. It’s going to be a long night.”
“I’m not tired.”
He looked as beat as she felt. “You will be.”
“I’ll sleep on the drive over.”
Kele fisted her fingers, wanting him out of this room so he wouldn’t get curious and finally look at what was on her monitor. “You might have to drive part of the way. I get tired too, you know.”
He lowered his notes and studied her as if he hadn’t considered that. “Maybe we both should take a nap.”
“No. I want to make certain we have everything down right.” She forced herself to sound neutral rather than irritated. Deliberately, she reached for the coffee pot even though she knew it was empty. She’d drunk the last of the brew an hour earlier. When only a few drops fell into her cup, she swore.
“Want me to get you some more?” Diaz asked.
“You’d have to make it.”
“So? I’m capable.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s the equipment?”
“Over there.” She inclined her head to the adjoining room, then added, “There should be some biscuits and cinnamon rolls in the refrigerator. You need to bake them.”
He frowned. “You’re hungry?”
“Aren’t you? If you’re not,” she said before he could answer, “you will be. We have a long trip there and back. It’s not like we can stop for fast food, not with Carreon’s men on the prowl. Forget it,” she added quickly, “I’ll make the stuff.”
“I’ll do it. Keep studying the plan so nothing goes wrong. But after we eat, we leave.”
Kele again checked the clock on her computer screen, calculating time and distance. She nodded, then waited until Diaz left the room.
With a few key strokes, she pulled up data from the strip club’s security cameras that she’d hacked into earlier, focusing on the one that provided coverage for the back door. The blueprint she’d found of the building showed her that’s where the office was. She fast-forwarded through the recordings and stopped frequently to check time stamps.
In the other room, Diaz moved around the unfamiliar space noisily as he searched for coffee filters, the grounds and cinnamon rolls she’d mentioned. With any luck, he’d be in there for at least another ten minutes.
She continued her computer search and backed up the tape, then fast-forwarded it once more.
Minutes later, she had her answer. At the same time every morning—once the club had closed for the night and the staff had departed—the back door opened. The man who’d strangled the stripper came outside, tossed a trash bag into a nearby bin, enjoyed a smoke, then went back in. Precisely twenty minutes later, he left the building with a briefcase, got into his car and drove away. His routine never varied.
With Carreon there, would the man do the same tonight?
He wouldn’t leave, of course. He might not even toss the trash bag. However, he quite possibly would enjoy a smoke. Why not? His monitors showed the deserted parking lot, proving he had nothing to worry about. A sophisticated security system protected the club from intrusion and from anyone turning it off.
Kele knew. She’d tried.
Carreon expected Liz and Dr. Munez to return to his stronghold where he, no doubt, had someone waiting for them. He’d want to remain at the club so he could be on camera for the next woman’s execution, just in case Liz didn’t do what he wanted. However, the prick hadn’t considered that anyone from Zeke’s clan would guess he was there, or that no security system was foolproof, even if it couldn’t be turned off. All cameras had blind spots, and Kele knew where the ones for these were.
“Coffee’s ready,” Diaz said. He stood in the doorway between the rooms. “You want it now or with the other stuff?”
She kept her focus on the screen, deleting what she’d brought up. “There’s a thermos in the lower cabinet on the right and a plastic container in the upper left cabinet. As soon as the rolls are finished you can put them in the container so we can take them with us.” She looked at him. “Once you do, we’ll leave.”
With any luck, everything would go according to plan. For Diaz, that meant his cousin would finally be in safe hands, travelling back here to be healed.
For Kele, it meant the end of Carreon and hopefully the beginning of her redemption. She would settle for nothing less.
Chapter Thirteen
You have so little time, Isabel’s voice whispered in Zeke’s thoughts, less than twelve hours.
He had to make the prisoners talk; it was the only way for him to get to Carreon and stop this madness. Zeke tried to move his mouth but it wouldn’t work. His limbs were weighted, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense with pain. Exhaustion continued to grip him, refusing to let go.
So little time, so little—
He sank back into darkness—on some level understanding that he was asleep—and saw Liz. She smiled at him as though everything were all right. They were safe finally. Taking his hand, she placed it on her swollen belly.
“Did you feel the baby’s kick?” she whispered.
Indecent joy rolled through Zeke at the thought of their child. A son…or a little girl? He saw himself holding Gabrielle who then turned into a different baby, one that belonged to him and Liz. A sister Gabrielle would have loved and protected
had she been here. Had Carreon not—
Even in his dream, Zeke couldn’t bring himself to relive her death. His sadness turned to happiness as he watched this new child growing up in a real home, not the clan’s stronghold, but a house in one of the area’s countless suburbs with grass in the front yard, a play area in the back that boasted a sand box and a swing set and—
Carreon’s office. The image intruded so quickly, Zeke flinched. He gaped at a woman’s legs, her moccasin half on her foot. Fire licking it.
Noooo.
He struggled to wake up. His nightmare—or was it a vision?—wouldn’t allow it. Like a camera, it honed in on a mark near the woman’s foot. A mole? No. A scar on the ankle that Zeke hadn’t noticed before. Couldn’t be Liz. He’d been intimate with every inch of her flesh. The only imperfection on it was the reddish stain on her palm that proved she could heal.
Wasn’t it?
Uncertainty screamed through him. Instantly, Zeke awoke. He was slumped over the desk in the prisoners’ room. The two men were still in their chairs, their heads hanging down with sleep.
“You okay?” Jacob asked from the doorway.
No. “How long have I been out?”
“Just a few minutes.”
“How many?”
“Only an hour and a half.”
Zeke stood so quickly, his chair fell over and smacked into the floor. The prisoners jerked awake at the noise. “How could you have let me sleep that long?” he snapped. “Why did you let me sleep at all?”
“You’re exhausted. We thought…” Rather than finish, Jacob looked at Paul.
“It wasn’t all that long,” the man said.
It was time he no longer had. Carreon wasn’t about to back down at the end of the twelve hours. Neither would Isabel. Zeke had to get Liz, her father and Jacob away from here before he no longer had the chance.
“Come with me,” Zeke said to his brother, then hurried down the hall.
“Hey,” Jacob said, catching up. “Where are you going?”
Zeke ran to his room. He opened the door so hurriedly it crashed against the limestone, causing the walls to glow, then flicker like a nightclub’s strobe light. The bed was empty.