by Tina Donahue
His skin crawled. “Liz!”
She wasn’t in the bath. Zeke ran back into the bedroom. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Jacob said, “but she can’t have gone far. One of our men is guarding the stronghold’s entrance.”
“That didn’t stop her from leaving the last time.” Zeke bolted from the room.
Jacob followed at a run. “Only because Carreon’s men had already gotten inside and shot Samuel.” He paused to gulp air. “She’s still here.”
“Where, dammit?”
“Her father’s room?”
He checked. Dr. Munez lay on his side, asleep. Zeke closed the door as quietly as he could, deciding that they’d come back for him later. Given his age, Munez’s pace would only slow them down now. “She must be in the dining room.”
At this hour, it was empty, the area dark. Shafts of light poured from the walls in the kitchen area, creating shadows on the long tables, the numerous chairs. Brief noises interrupted the quiet. The sounds of metal cookware tapping against burners. Cabinets being opened, then closed.
Several women looked over as Zeke and Jacob hurried inside, Isabel among them.
Zeke kept himself from shuddering at the sight of her. She didn’t look any different than she always did—always had through the centuries. However, he knew what she was.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
You have so little time, her thoughts had whispered to him as he slept. The beginning of her mind control, her wiping Liz from him forever?
He lied quickly, “Nothing. Jacob and I are just checking to make certain everything’s all right.”
She stepped toward them. It took all of Zeke’s will not to flinch or move back, which would only alarm Jacob and cause him to ask too many inconvenient questions.
“Why wouldn’t everything be all right?” Isabel asked.
One of the other women huffed. She was in her early fifties, her husband, son and grandchildren living in this stronghold. “He let Kele and Carreon’s brother leave. No telling who Kele will bring back with her this time.”
“Pedro,” Jacob said, his tone as hard as hers. “A kid who needs our help.”
“You should worry about your own,” the woman shot back.
“Kele can’t get inside unless we allow it,” Zeke cut in, his attention on Isabel, not the other woman. “What happened before won’t happen again.”
“It’s getting late,” Isabel said. “You know that, don’t you, Zeke?”
You have so little time.
He backed up, then hurried from the room.
Jacob was at his side in an instant. “What’s with Isabel? What did she mean about it being late?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you two talk about before?”
“Could Liz be in your room?”
Jacob lifted his shoulders. “Maybe.”
She wasn’t. Zeke’s belly twisted.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Jacob said, “where in the fuck did she—hey, where are you going?”
Zeke spoke over his shoulder as he raced down the hall. “Meeting room.” It was the only place left that made sense.
He found her in front of the large computer screen, focused on the image of Carreon’s lieutenant strangling the stripper.
Zeke pulled Liz into his arms and held her tightly. He swallowed at how she shivered. “We’ll fix this,” he promised, even though he couldn’t. Not from here. Not at this time. The fucking prisoners weren’t simply refusing to speak, they really didn’t know where Carreon was.
Liz gripped Zeke’s tee in her hands and shuddered. “Carreon’s probably already sent some of his men to the stronghold so someone will be there when I—”
“You’re not going back.”
“We don’t have much time left.”
Zeke tightened his embrace, not wanting to hear the defeat in her words. He had to protect her. They had to have a future no matter what Carreon or Isabel wanted. He was this clan’s fucking leader. There had to be a way to fix this.
How? With what?
Think, dammit.
Liz moved against him as though she ached to stay, but couldn’t.
“I won’t let you go,” Zeke whispered to her. “I’ll find a way to make this right. I’ll…” He didn’t continue, not knowing what else to say.
Jacob watched them for a moment, then went around the table to the computer Kele had been using. “Maybe the answer’s right in front of us and we didn’t see it.”
Zeke shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s look at what we have and go through it again. It couldn’t hurt.” He brought up the screen and frowned.
“What is it?” Zeke asked.
Jacob sank into the chair. His fingers flew over the keyboard, then stopped. He shook his head. “This isn’t right.”
Zeke stopped hugging Liz. With his arms still around her, he turned to Jacob. “What isn’t?”
“The most recent downloads were deleted. Why would she do that?”
Who? Isabel? “What are you talking about?”
“Kele. She erased the history, or thought she had.” Jacob stared at the screen as he continued, “Nothing’s ever really gone from a computer. I’m bringing it back up.”
“Why would she delete anything as important as this?” Liz asked.
Zeke hadn’t a clue. What purpose would it serve? It wasn’t as if she was going to try to win Jacob over again. That was over. Zeke had seen it in Kele’s expression, the depth of sorrow and shame in her eyes. She hadn’t been acting. He knew she—
His thoughts paused as remnants of his earlier vision returned. Again, he saw a woman’s legs. A fire. An unpleasant taste filled his mouth. His voice didn’t sound like his own. “Does Kele have a scar on her ankle?”
Jacob studied the screen. “Maybe.”
“Does she?” Zeke snapped.
His brother and Liz stared at him. “I don’t know,” Jacob said.
“How can you not know that?” Zeke growled. “You’ve been around her since she was a kid.”
Jacob stared at him, then glanced back at the computer screen. Liz rested her hand on Zeke’s chest. “What is it?” she asked him. “What have you seen?”
“Oh shit,” Jacob said.
Zeke released Liz and went around the table to his brother. “What?”
Jacob’s complexion had turned pasty. “She found the office where the transmission took place.”
“How?” Liz blurted.
“She used the calendar on the wall.”
Zeke’s belly clenched. The images in his vision all made sense now. “She’s heading there.”
“Why?” Liz cried.
“Because she brought Carreon’s men here,” Zeke said, feeling ill. “She put the stronghold and our people at risk.” He could barely breathe. “She wants to make up for it.”
Jacob stood. “We have to stop her.”
How? Too much time had passed for them to catch up. Exactly what Kele had wanted.
“You take the next exit,” Diaz said. He gestured to the highway sign illuminated by the Jeep’s headlights. Using the faint glow coming from the dash, he checked the map. “Then we go two miles to the intersection of Carmelita and Rio Rosa. There, we turn—hey, what are you doing?” He looked behind himself. “You missed the exit.”
“I remembered a better way,” Kele lied. She wiped her left palm on her jeans, then her right. The last time her hands had been this sweaty was the night she’d gone to Carreon’s stronghold in the hopes of making Jacob her own.
Fool.
How could she have believed he’d love her after what she’d done? How could she have been so stupid?
“What better way?” Diaz finally said. “My aunt’s house isn’t far from that last exit. We’ll have to double back now.”
“It’s okay.”
He remained turned to her, watching, no doubt frowning. Kele ignored him.
“What’s this
about?” he asked, his question laced with suspicion.
“I have to make a stop first.”
“Where?”
She took the next off ramp. At this hour, the streets were deserted. Carreon’s man would soon be exiting the back of the strip club to throw out the trash and have a smoke.
Please, let him do that tonight.
“We’ll get Pedro as soon as I’m through,” Kele promised.
Diaz snapped, “Doing what?”
She slowed half a block down from the club and parked the Jeep in front of a home that had seen better days. Tall weeds and grass had taken over the front yard. Paint peeled from the wooden siding. A child’s bike, its back wheel missing, lay on the sagging steps that led to the porch. The houses surrounding it were as decrepit. This street, like the others, was also empty. No one nearby.
“Kele, stop.”
She couldn’t. Once and for all, she had to make things right. Jacob still wouldn’t love her. However, maybe—just maybe—he’d like her a little more. He’d respect the woman she’d finally become. They’d be friends again, just as he always wanted. She blinked away her tears, angry at her lingering hurt. She had no right to it.
With her weapon’s stock folded, she hid it at her side beneath the lightweight blanket coat she wore. Once the sun had set, the blistering summer air had cooled to the mid-sixties. Downright chilly for this part of the world.
“Stay here,” she said to Diaz and left the keys in the ignition. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Fuck that,” he said, “I’m coming with—”
She interrupted him, her tone unnaturally calm, “If you get killed, what will happen to Pedro?” Before Diaz could answer, she murmured, “Stay here.”
She closed the door as gently as she could to avoid making any unnecessary noise, then ran down the street and stopped short of the club’s back entrance. Noting the security cameras, Kele remained in the equipment’s blind spots and inched closer, then closer through the shadows.
Carreon’s Escalade was still here. Good. The dark blue Lincoln must have belonged to the other man.
Come out, come out, come out, her thoughts urged him as she crouched down in her vantage point.
She counted the passing seconds. A strange calm settled over her. On the drive here, she’d worried about panic, that she might be so afraid she’d rethink this. Now that the time had come, all the suspense and anguish had been foolish. She’d never felt as peaceful, because she knew she’d done the right thing by—
The back door swung open, halting her thoughts. The man she’d seen on the computer monitor wasn’t holding the expected trash bag. However, he did have a pack of cigarettes in his hand. After propping the door open with a brick, he lit the smoke and pulled deeply on it.
Kele’s heart, so calm a moment before, began to hammer. Discounting it, she pulled her weapon from her coat and lowered the stock, locking it in place.
At the faint click, the man stopped blowing out his smoke. He turned and glanced up the street, then down, his back now to her.
She bolted from her hiding place, her steps muffled by her moccasins. She rested the muzzle of her assault rifle in the center of his back.
“Make one sound or move and you’re dead,” she murmured, then took the weapon from his waistband and slipped it into her own. She found another holstered on his ankle. She threw it into the bushes that separated this property from the next and nudged him with her rifle. “Inside.”
He walked like a man going to his execution, his steps halting and far too slow. Kele’s pulse drummed against her throat and temples. She fought a wave of dizziness as they left the brief hall and entered the office.
With hours left before his self-appointed deadline, Carreon dozed on one end of the sofa. The woman he’d threatened to kill was on the other end, also asleep. As though she’d sensed something, she stirred, then blinked and stared.
Kele rammed her shoulder into the man’s back. Caught off guard, he stumbled to the side and grabbed the desk to break his fall. A paperweight tumbled from it, smacking into the carpeting.
The noise awakened Carreon. He was halfway to his feet, reaching for his weapon when Kele shot him.
Chapter Fourteen
Within minutes, Jacob had restored the data Kele had deleted—the Google map, a blueprint of the building, the location of all the security cameras, their transmissions.
“The club’s on Vincencia Street,” he said, then snapped, “Why didn’t she tell us? What the fuck does she think she’s doing?”
She wants your forgiveness and love, Liz thought, sorrow gripping her. Despite what had already happened, and Kele’s seeming acceptance that she’d never be the woman Jacob desired, she still longed for the impossible.
Zeke went to his brother. “Jacob, there’s nothing you can do.”
“Quit blocking me.”
Zeke didn’t move. “Kele’s too far away. You can’t catch up with her now.”
“We can’t let her fight him alone. What about your fucking vision? What’s going to happen to her?”
“Zeke’s visions don’t always come true,” Liz said, going to them. “They’re a warning of what might happen, not necessarily how things will turn out. You survived and so did Zeke. Even I came back.” She glanced at Zeke and added, “I’m all right.”
He looked as though he’d never believe that again. Not fully.
Holding back a sigh, Liz spoke to Jacob. “Diaz is with Kele. He hates Carreon as much as we all do. He’ll protect her.”
Jacob backed away. “Sure. If she told him what she was doing.”
“Even if she didn’t,” Zeke said, “he’ll know soon enough, and he’ll help her.”
Jacob stopped shifting from foot to foot. “You really believe that, or is it something you’re only saying to keep me here?”
“Oh God, don’t leave,” Liz said. She wrapped her arms around Jacob’s torso. His heart beat as wildly as hers. “Diaz will keep her safe,” Liz murmured. “He’ll prove Zeke’s vision was wrong. Diaz will change the future, just as Zeke did when he saw you dying during the battle here.”
Jacob made a noise that sounded resigned or tired, then caressed Liz as Zeke had when they’d first returned to the stronghold and he’d begged her to stop asking so many questions…to simply hold him. “You really believe Kele will be all right?”
It was a moment before Liz could answer. Right now, all she had was hope. “Even if she’s not, I can bring her back.”
“No,” Zeke said, going to them. “I won’t allow it.”
“That goes double for me,” Jacob said. “Your father won’t go for it either. He’ll help her, should it come to that.”
Liz didn’t argue. Now wasn’t the time. She refused to believe that she could no longer heal. That one day, she’d have to let Zeke, her father or Jacob slip away in order to protect herself.
Uh-uh. No freaking way. She’d never allow that. Nor would she consider that Kele and Diaz wouldn’t come back. “Is it possible for you to start a transmission, or whatever you call it, to the club?” she asked. “For us to see what’s going on?”
Zeke and Jacob exchanged a glance.
Liz spoke before they could. “If you can’t do it with the computer Carreon used before, what about a security camera? Maybe there’s one in the office like those outside the building. Can you hack into it, intercept the image, whatever needs to be done?”
“It’s worth a try,” Jacob said.
Zeke ran his fingers over his mouth, looking uncertain. Liz noticed how he kept glancing behind himself as though he expected someone to barge into the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Jacob stopped short of the computer, waiting for his brother’s answer.
“How long will it take you to bring up an image, if you can?” Zeke said. “Is it even possible to turn on his system from here?”
“I can sure as hell try.” He started keying.
“How long will it take?”
Zeke repeated.
“Maybe a couple of minutes…maybe more.”
“Do you think Kele’s already there?” Liz asked Zeke, then glanced toward the hall as he had. It was still empty. “Who are you looking for?”
“I don’t know if Kele’s already there,” Zeke answered Liz’s first question, ignoring the second. He spoke to Jacob. “You have five minutes, no more.”
“Why?” Liz asked. She went to Zeke. “Tell me.”
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he said, his attention again straying to the hall. His expression saying he wanted out of here, like a man who needed to flee.
Blood poured through Carreon’s fingers, which were clutched against his belly. He stared at Kele in horror and confusion as though he didn’t quite believe matters had come to this. He’d been defeated so easily.
He fell to his knees. A thin stream of blood poured from the side of his mouth. He tried to speak, but the words never came.
To Kele, the scene unfolded in slo-mo. On his knees, Carreon swayed to the right, the left. Her forefinger stroked the rifle’s trigger, but she didn’t shoot him again, suddenly unable to.
She’d done what the others in her clan hadn’t. She’d expected to feel elated, relieved. A creeping numbness settled over her. Her body felt heavy as though a crushing weight were pressing down on it. The weapon’s report had been so loud her ears still rang. Or maybe someone was screaming and that was what she heard.
A quick check of the other man told Kele it wasn’t him making any noise. He’d come to a rest on the floor and hadn’t moved from it, his eyes bugged out, mouth closed, his focus on her weapon.
The young woman Carreon had threatened to kill hadn’t moved either. Nor had she spoken or screamed.
Carreon sagged to the side. He struggled to speak.
The woman kept her attention on Kele.
“Kill her,” Carreon breathed.
Kele swung her weapon’s muzzle at the other man. He didn’t move.
“You’re safe now,” Kele said to the young woman, gesturing her over, away from Carreon. “I’m Kele, from Neekoma’s clan. I’ll get you out of here, I promise.”
The young woman regarded Kele’s weapon, then Carreon. At last, she left the sofa, her movements shaky and cautious as she made certain not to pass anywhere near him.