Her outrage hung on for a moment, then evaporated beneath a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, proving she didn’t fear him. Pushing her hair back, she fooled with it as Zeke waited for her next accusation or maybe an apology. He almost smiled at the thought.
She asked, “Did your visions show Carreon or his men harming Jacob tonight?”
Caught off guard, Zeke couldn’t stop the flood of pain coursing through him. He swallowed, then shook his head.
“Are you kidding?” She looked dumbfounded. “What good is your gift if it didn’t show you that?”
Zeke couldn’t recall a moment when he’d felt wearier. “Damned if I know. It’s not something I’ve asked for or ever wanted, you know?”
As though she did, Liz made a small sound of compassion, then eased a strand of hair behind his ear, her fingertips grazing his cheek.
Jesus. The unspoken understanding in her touch stripped away all of Zeke’s defenses, leaving him helpless. He wanted her body wrapped around his, their breathing and heartbeats in rhythm, their combined heat chasing away all that was bad, providing a bit of hope that someday there’d be a real future for both their clans. There’d be a chance to laugh. To dream.
“Was Jacob deliberately targeted tonight?” she asked.
“No.” He frowned. “He was trying to save me.”
“From Carreon’s ambush?”
Zeke shook his head. “We learned from our usual sources where he’d be tonight. The location put him in a precarious position, and I decided to kill the bastard once and for all for what his men had done to Gabrielle.”
Liz cradled his fist in her hands, running her fingertips over his knuckles.
He stopped squeezing them, suddenly aware of how they hurt, her light strokes draining some of the tension from him.
“What happened?” she asked.
What didn’t? He pushed his free hand through his hair, pulling it away from his face.
“Jacob argued against me going, saying it might be a trap. I didn’t care. When I refused to listen to him, he lied, claiming Carreon would arrive later than he actually did. Jacob went in my place to attack him.” He muttered an oath at his damn, bullheaded brother. “Carreon wasn’t there. It was a trap, just as Jacob had thought. When he surprised Carreon’s people, they fired on him and the men he’d brought along. None of our other men were hurt. They brought Jacob back to the stronghold. When I saw the extent of his injuries, I left to find you.”
“That’s when they attacked you.”
“They tried to take me prisoner. I wouldn’t let them. I fired. They fired. You know the rest.”
“Did your visions warn you of the attack and you almost dying?”
“I told you, they aren’t like TV programs, all right?”
“But they did give you a glimpse into your future,” she said. “Don’t deny it. I can see the truth on your face. What in the hell’s the matter with you? Why did you put your life at risk to go through with it? Wasn’t there another way to save Jacob?”
Zeke had to wonder why she was asking. Because it would have spared her from being kidnapped tonight, or because she cared just a bit about a man she’d been born to hate?
“I knew you’d heal me,” he said. “I saw it in my mind. I had to put myself at risk, not only to save Jacob but so Carreon’s men would bring me to his stronghold. It was the only way my people could follow and see where it was, learn its weaknesses. Now we know.”
Liz released his hand. “I can’t leave my father. I have to get back before Carreon does anything to him.”
“Why would he?”
“It’s how he keeps me in line. Ever since my father refused to heal for him, Carreon’s depended upon me, imprisoning my father to make certain of it.”
“Then he won’t be harming him,” Zeke said. “With you gone, your father’s all that Carreon has left, unless others in your clan have your same gift.”
“They don’t. Not really.”
“And that means?”
She scratched the rough carpeting with her thumbnail. “They can’t heal to the degree that my father and I do. Hell, I can’t heal the way he does. All he has to do is lay his palm on the injured, and they’re all right. I—well, you know what I have to do.”
“I’ll never forget.”
She sighed as if he’d said a dirty word. “None of the others in my clan has the mark. It proves my father’s gift, and mine to a lesser degree, are the strongest.”
Zeke took her hand, regarding the reddish stain in the center of her palm. His first thought was to kiss it. However, he wasn’t that brave a man, fearing her rejection. He traced the dark oval with his forefinger, stunned by the brief spark of energy, the sense of life flowing from her body into his.
She folded her fingers to stop him.
“Carreon won’t harm your father,” Zeke said. “He may be worse than an animal, but he’s no fool. As long as he needs someone, they’ll remain alive.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
When he said nothing, she pulled her hand away.
“I didn’t do this to harm you or those you love,” he said. “I don’t want your pain any more than I believe you want mine.”
She glanced at her claw marks on his chest. “You’re sure of that?”
He stopped his smile, figuring she wouldn’t appreciate it. “Very. What are you doing?”
She touched the deepest of his injuries. He flinched at the uncomfortable sting.
“Does it hurt that badly?” she asked.
“No.”
“How about this?”
Damn. Zeke clenched his teeth at the pain shooting down his arm. He frowned at the raw flesh where his snake’s head tattoo had once been. Someone had cut it out. When?
“Burns, huh?” Liz asked.
Zeke managed not to wince. “Not at all.”
“Liar.” Leaning close, she laid her palm over one of the injuries she’d caused. “Does this help?”
A fucking lot more than she’d ever know and not only because of her healing touch. The sting on his pec ebbed, replaced by a surge of tenderness and gratitude—something he hadn’t felt in far too long for anyone outside his clan. “I’m not sure. You better not stop until I am.”
She made a dismissive sound, the kind women use to let men know they’re being jerks. However, her attention travelled from his chest and abs to his growing erection, evident in the dim moonlight streaming into the back of the van. His arousal didn’t seem to embarrass or disturb her.
Emboldened, Zeke covered her hand with his. “Are you healing me again?”
“Not entirely.”
What was that supposed to mean? “You’re not certain either?”
“It’s not that.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “Wherever we stop, you should consider putting alcohol or peroxide on those abrasions to avoid infection.”
“I’m not following. You were willing to heal my bullet wounds but not the scratches you gave me?”
Her expression grew even more guarded. “After I heal Jacob…that is, if I can, do you intend—”
“Wait a minute.” Zeke brought back his hand. “What do you mean if you can?”
Liz kept her palm on his pec, stroking it, playing with the small point of his nipple. Heat rushed to his groin. He curled his toes.
She murmured, “Your people’s DNA is different from that of my clan. I wasn’t all that certain I’d be able to save you.”
“But you did. And I’ll be forever grateful.” He kissed her fingertips, risking her disapproval, the chance that she’d pull away.
She didn’t. In the scant light, he saw her cheeks flushing just as they had in his fantasy, her eyes growing glassy with desire.
“You’ll do the same for Jacob,” he said.
Something passed over her face, chasing away her arousal. “And then what?”
Zeke released her hand.
She didn’t back off. “I deserve an answer. What happens after I heal your br
other? Are you going to let me return to my father, or are you going to keep me a prisoner so I can heal others of your clan?”
He matched her frown. “Would you rather see them die?”
“Are you nuts?” she snapped. “I don’t want anyone to die; that’s the point. Whether I heal your men or Carreon’s, the outcome is always the same, isn’t it? Endless fighting and more death. Not everyone wants carnage, Zeke. Maybe if I don’t heal anyone that will change.”
She couldn’t be that naïve. “For who?” he countered. “Carreon? Me? The men who fight with us, or the children and women he targets?” Zeke cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Would you let those innocents die? Would you have refused to help my daughter all in the name of peace that Carreon and the goons that follow him will never give?”
Her mouth trembled. “How can you even ask that? If I could have saved Gabrielle, I would have. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. But you’re wrong about my people. Not all of them are like Carreon. They regret allowing him to come to power. This has to end. I refuse to be a party to it any longer.” She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.
The pose she struck did little to enhance her determination or to hide her nudity. If anything, she appeared more vulnerable than Zeke could have imagined.
He found it difficult to believe she’d ever been Carreon’s woman. How could she have craved the man, given what he’d done to his own people and her father? What lies had Carreon told Liz to have brought her to his side?
What did it matter? She was with him now, where Zeke intended for her to stay.
Liz must have read his expression, because she scooted farther away, her breasts jostling with that and the van’s movements.
“I’ll heal Jacob as you want,” she said, “but then I have to go back. I have my father to think of as much as you do your brother.”
Zeke wasn’t about to comment, wanting her to believe whatever made her feel good.
She glared at him. “No matter how miraculous you believe my gift is because it saved you, it’s not what you think. It could kill as well as heal. There are things about it even I don’t know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“From the time I was little, my father warned me to be careful with it. When I asked him why, he’d always hold back, telling me that I had an obligation to heal only those I believed could survive. No one else. I still don’t know what he meant. I asked him if he was talking about brain damage. He’d never give me a straight answer. To this day, I don’t know what my gift will do exactly.
“I’ve learned through trial and error that it does speed healing, but it won’t cure in the normal sense. I can’t lay my hands on someone with cancer or any other terminal illness and rid them of the disease. I can only heal the damage for a short time, after which it may come back.”
Instinctively, Zeke touched the healed wounds on his chest. “Are you saying what you fixed on me tonight won’t last?”
“That’s different. Bullets, not disease, nearly killed you. With the appropriate medical care, you would have survived. All I did was speed up the healing process, as I’ve said.”
“Without an operating room or surgeons. Trust me, your gift is remarkable.”
“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? I loathe it as much as you do yours. It’s brought us to this. You almost dying. Your brother injured. My father a prisoner. My mother dead.”
Another surprise he hadn’t expected. “Was Carreon responsible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “It looked like any other auto accident; at least that’s what the cops claimed. She was out during a storm. Her car hydroplaned and went off the road. By the time my father got there, he couldn’t save her. What we have isn’t perfect, Zeke. Neither are your visions if they didn’t warn you well ahead of time what Jacob intended to do tonight.”
He argued, “You’re here, so it worked out. It will work out.”
“You can’t know—” She stopped as the van slowed, and the moon disappeared, throwing the back of the van into darkness.
“What happened?” she asked. “Where are we?”
A tunnel built into the side of the mountain. A place so hidden and inaccessible, Carreon’s men couldn’t find it.
“My people’s stronghold,” he said.
Chapter Five
A loud metal clang sounded from the rear of the van, followed by a whir Liz couldn’t identify. New sounds emerged, reminiscent of bulbs popping in old-time cameras. With them, a blaze of light lit up the van’s windows.
She stared at what looked to be steel walls and the line of blue-white tubes on either side of them, emitting enough illumination to make her squint. The vehicle’s tires whooshed over the suddenly smooth road. Those sounds and the surroundings reminded Liz of tunnels she’d driven through when visiting New York and other major cities.
However, this was the desert, with nothing but desolation for miles. “Are we going underground?”
“We’re already there.”
She regarded Zeke in the sudden brightness, her body weakening with need. He was so damn gorgeous…so seemingly kind, although that part of him was lost beneath pure male temptation. He was all muscle and hard angles that would have made Michelangelo’s David envious. The ends of his hair grazed his stubbled jaw, making him look deliciously mussed, as though he just rolled out of bed, having had a hell of a good time there. That was, if she didn’t consider the gouges she’d put in his chest and the piece of flesh Carreon had cut from his arm. In the unforgiving light, the wounds were an angry red, the edges black with dried blood. “You have a subterranean stronghold?”
How was that possible?
He glanced at the lights and walls whizzing by. Liz estimated the van was going sixty miles an hour or more.
“It’s built into the side of the mountain,” he said. “A leftover, if you will, from my ancestors.”
“Your people actually built this?”
He smiled at her obvious shock. “Not my clan; my ancestors, the Others. My people discovered the stronghold by accident decades ago, treating it more as a religious site than anything else. You know, making the yearly pilgrimage. Asking the Others to return and show themselves.
“That changed when Carreon came into power after his father’s assassination. He’s forced us to use it for shelter and protection. We explored its perimeters. There, we found holograms from the Others. When we played them, they were in our language. God, it was weird. They more or less explained how the stronghold operated…how to open doors, get lighting. What appears to be steel on the tunnel’s walls is actually an alloy we don’t have on this planet. My guess is it can’t be detected by any means as normal metal would, not even with the so-called sophisticated technology the Feds use. If that’d been possible, this place would’ve been studied and restricted by them, much like White Sands and Area 51.”
Liz’s head spun with any number of questions. “You and your clan live beneath a mountain range?”
“Within it,” he corrected. “A portion of the stronghold is between the peaks. It’s still shielded from aerial view, but there the children can play outside. We’ve set up an area with trees and flowers. We grow our own plants.”
That didn’t jibe with what he’d told her earlier. “You said Carreon’s men fired at Gabrielle and the other women and children at a birthday party you’d taken her to. Surely, it wasn’t here.” If it had been, Carreon would have already stormed this place, trying to win it for his own use.
Zeke’s good humor shifted to cold fury. “As I just explained, at the time of the attack we weren’t using the stronghold. We still lived above ground. The adults worked at local businesses they owned. Their children went to public school. There was no reason to do otherwise because no one in the recent past deliberately and coldly attacked the women and children. While Carreon’s father was in charge, we ev
en had a truce. His men rarely set foot into our territory. His son finally changed that.”
And awakened the murderous rage of what Liz sensed was a truly good man. “Carreon thought you were at the party?”
Zeke spoke through his teeth. “My guess is he knew I wasn’t. He wanted to hurt me in the worst way possible to prove his power. That he’d go to any lengths to get what he wants. Being the coward he is, he probably thought I’d cave just as he would have done, begging him not to harm me, predicting the future for him if it meant sparing myself.”
“Have you tried to assassinate him before tonight?”
Zeke offered an icy smile, bringing to mind the predatory look Liz had so often seen on Carreon’s face.
“I wanted to,” he said without any shame.
“On the day your daughter died?”
He studied her. “Have you any idea what it’s like to lose a child? To know that she won’t have a chance to grow up, to become a person in her own right? From the moment Gabrielle could talk, she let me know what she thought, what she wanted. Her favorite color was yellow. Not pink. She called it a sissy color.” His smile turned wistful. Sudden tears sparkled in his dark eyes. “She nagged her mother and me for a yellow top and shorts to wear to the birthday party. We surprised her with them that morning.”
Liz reached out to touch him, to comfort, then thought better of it, bringing back her hand before he noticed.
Zeke drove his fingers through his hair. “By the time I saw my daughter again, her pretty yellow clothes were wet with—” He stopped and swallowed, then drew in a deep breath. “While I held Gabrielle’s body in my arms, I was already picturing myself attacking Carreon. Not with a gun or even a knife; my bare hands. I wanted to feel that bastard’s bones breaking, his throat collapsing. Jacob and my friends had to restrain me from hunting Carreon down that day. They reminded me that he’s like a snake or a rat, always hiding, moving from place to place to avoid detection. We were never certain where he might actually be or where his main stronghold was. As I stated before, his men taking me there tonight changed all that.”
Indeed it had.
Despite the mild temperature inside the van, a chill ran through Liz. Now that Zeke and his men knew of Carreon’s principal location, would they raid his stronghold. hoping to murder him and perhaps harming her father in the process?
Come Fill Me (The Prophecy) Page 7