by Rebecca York
The three women who had come to her cabin in the boat were waiting for her, their eyes narrowed as they stared at her. They wore the same white uniforms, only now they had thin rubber gloves on their hands.
“You betrayed us,” Evelyn said, her voice sharp. “He was angry with us.”
Anna shrugged, and the cloth that had half fallen off her head hit the floor. Desperately, she tried to clear her thoughts. As soon as the cloth was gone, she felt some of her intellect come back. Raising her chin, she said, “I’m in love with another man.”
“That is very foolish, when our priest wants you for his bride.”
The word “bride” made her cringe. “I don’t want him.”
“You will,” Evelyn said in a strangely calm voice. She flicked her hand, and Maria stepped to the shower and turned on the water. It came pouring out of a rounded fixture like rain.
While Maria adjusted the water, Evelyn pulled the blanket away and tossed it across the counter.
Evelyn and Wilhelmina each took one of her arms and led her into the shower.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you up and making you look nice.”
“For what?”
Nobody answered.
Fear leaped inside Anna’s breast. But despite her roiling emotions, the water pouring down on her felt good. Still wearing her white uniform, Maria stepped into the shower, poured lemon-scented shampoo into her hands, and began to wash Anna’s hair.
She washed it quickly, rinsed it off, and finished with an application of conditioner and another rinse.
As Anna stood under the water, a pungent smell made her head jerk up. She saw Evelyn pour a thick white liquid from a small bottle and lather her gloved hands.
“What’s that?”
“Fire soap.”
“What?”
“You’ll like it.” When her hands were sudsy, she stepped into the shower and stroked her hand over Anna’s shoulder. The moment the lather touched her skin, she felt as though she’d been touched by a handful of itching powder.
When she tried to jump away, Maria held her in place.
“Don’t fight it.”
“Please, no. What are you doing to me?”
“Making you ready for our priest,” Evelyn answered, working the lather down Anna’s back, making her skin burn, then switching to the front, lathering her chest, her breasts, her abdomen.
At first it burned. Then it settled down to a sizzling, erotic heat that caught her in its grip.
Evelyn reached lower, sliding the soap through Anna’s pubic hair and between her legs.
“Don’t.”
“Relax. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“Liar!”
“Don’t…do…this to me.” Panic clogged her throat as she tried to twist away, but Maria held her in place.
Evelyn slid her hand over the curve of Anna’s ass, then stroked up and down the crack between her cheeks.
“We want you all nice and clean for the priest,” she murmured. “And all nice and hot, so you’ll be pleased by his attentions.”
“Please. No.”
“It’s too late. The fire soap sinks through your skin, into your blood.”
Anna looked down, seeing that her nipples had tightened. Maria followed her gaze and laughed.
“You look all sexy.”
“Let me go!”
“And what will you do? You need a man now. Don’t lie about it.”
“No.”
“Oh yes. You need our priest, to satisfy the heat in your blood.”
Anna made a whimpering sound. Maria was right. She was aroused. Not because she wanted to be, but because the soap was laced with some damn aphrodisiac drug.
She reached down, rubbing at her skin, trying to rub it away, but her fingers only inflamed her further. Her body was on fire and her brain had started to fog again. When she slumped back against the wall of the shower, Wilhelmina caught her.
“You’ll be better soon. After he makes love to you at the ceremony. He’ll make you come again and again.”
“God, no.”
Maria turned off the water. Wilhelmina brought a large towel and wrapped her in it, drying her body while Maria used another towel and then a handheld dryer.
Wilhelmina dried her arms and back, then swished the towel over her nipples. Need shot through her. And when the towel stroked between her legs, she felt her knees buckle.
“Enough,” Evelyn ordered. “We don’t want to make her come. Not yet.”
God, yes. Please do that. She couldn’t stop the plea from shooting through her mind. She had never felt her body clamoring more urgently for release. And there was nothing she could do about it.
ZACH cut the engine, and they drifted toward the pier. The moment the boat bumped against the dock, he jumped out and secured the line.
Jordan and Lindsay followed, leaving the captain they’d hired. The man was nervous. Even if he’d agreed to go along, it was obvious he didn’t want to anger San Donato. But they were paying him a fortune, and he wouldn’t get the rest of the money until they returned to Palmiro.
Jordan wanted to leave his wife behind. But they needed her powers.
They had landed in a small village—not of native huts but of grand houses. This must be a rich man’s enclave. Maybe even property that San Donato owned. The compound seemed empty, but there were probably guards on duty.
“They’ve taken her up to the real village,” Zach whispered. He wanted to switch on the flashlight he was carrying, but unlike when he’d been out in the water, he knew that was a bad idea.
So they stood for a few moments letting their eyes grow accustomed to the darkness. Then they started toward the enclave.
There must be a road, Zach said, glad that he didn’t have to actually speak the words. He’d spent enough time linked with Jordan and Lindsay that he could silently communicate with them.
They looked around, then saw a path winding upward through the trees. When they started in that direction, a figure detached itself from the shadows. A man holding a gun.
THE women picked Anna up and laid her naked on a flat surface, a stretcher. And when she tried to press her legs together and give herself some relief, they moved them apart, fastening her ankles to the sides the way she’d been fastened to the bed, only the stretcher was more narrow than the bed on the boat.
When she tried to slip her hand down her body, they snatched it away, securing her wrists to the sides so that she couldn’t touch herself.
Maria quickly used a dryer and brush on her hair, then brought a bouquet of small orchids and studded them around the top of her head.
“You look very pretty,” she murmured.
Evelyn brought a gauzy piece of fabric and laid it over her body. Even that light touch made her nerve endings twitch.
“He’ll give you release soon,” she promised, then turned away and stripped off her wet clothing. The other two women did the same. When they were dressed in dry white gowns, Evelyn opened the door.
More women were waiting outside. They looked excited as they lifted the stretcher and carried Anna down the hallway, then outside, where the cool evening air hit her skin. It felt good. But it wasn’t enough to quench the flaming inferno that had become her body.
She could see the moon and the stars above her, see the light of torches flickering around her, as though she were the star attraction in some pagan ceremony.
No, not as though.
It was real. All too real.
The women carried her behind one of the houses to a fenced-in area. She sensed people around her, men and women, some dressed in white like the attendants who carried the stretcher and some wearing colorful clothing. And she smelled the scent of sweaty skin and arousal filling the enclosure. Not just her own arousal.
These people were turned on. And they were going to do something about it. But not yet. Not until after they watched the damn ceremony where San Donato infli
cted himself on her.
ZACH faced the guard, wondering if he was going to take a bullet in the chest. Had San Donato told these guys to shoot first and ask questions later? Or what?
Get ready to grab the gun.
Jordan’s voice echoed in his mind. He wasn’t aware that the other telepath had disappeared until Jordan stepped from the trees directly behind of the man.
“Don’t move.” As he spoke, Jordan clamped a hand on the guard’s shoulder.
Hoping to hell that Jordan was controlling the man with his mind, Zach rushed forward, grabbed the gun hand, and pointed the weapon toward the ground.
The guy made a strangled sound. Quickly, they moved him back into the shadows.
“Stop. You don’t understand,” he gasped.
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m here to save your…lover.”
“What the hell do you know about it? And why did you hold a gun on us?”
“I wasn’t sure who you were—not at first. Then I felt your desperation. Are you Zachary Robinson?”
“Jesus. He knows we’re coming.”
“No! He doesn’t expect you. He doesn’t even know I’m here. I asked the saints to send you to this place. And they have honored my request. They are on my side, not the side of San Donato.”
“What the hell does all that mean? Who are you?”
The man drew himself up straighter. “I am Joseph Hondino. I am a priest of the Vadiana religion. The people used to follow me. Now they are following the false priest, San Donato. Because he promises them things that are impossible.” He looked at Lindsay, who was at Jordan’s side now. “You have powers—like San Donato. All three of you have powers. But you are the strongest. Go into my mind and see if I am telling the truth.”
Lindsay stared at him, then stepped forward and put her hands on his head. After several moments, she looked at Zach. “He came prepared to die, if that’s what it took to stop San Donato from joining with Anna. San Donato’s lover warned him about what was happening. He arranged for her to get off the island, then came here.”
Zach sucked in a sharp breath, wondering what the hell he was doing, standing here talking.
“You don’t have to sacrifice yourself. I’ll save her.”
When he started to push past the priest and run up the hill, the man grabbed his arm.
“You’re going the wrong way.”
He whirled around, his pulse pounding
“She’s not up there. Raoul’s in too much of a hurry now. He’s moved the ceremony down here—so he can get it over with as fast as possible.”
Zach’s gaze shot to Lindsay, who still had a hand on the priest’s head. “Is he telling the truth?”
“Yes. Anna’s…” She pointed toward one of the houses. “She’s behind there.
Zach saw a high fence. From beyond it, lights flickered.
“San Donato uses his gifts to do evil. And you do not. Use your powers to save her. Quickly. Before it’s too late.”
Zach started running again, praying he was in time.
THE women carried Anna to one side of the enclosure. In the flickering torchlight, she saw an altar looming above her. Like the one she had seen before in a vision. Only this was no dream. This was reality. A horrible reality. Where her life as she knew it ended.
They laid the stretcher down on a table in front of the altar. Quickly the women unfastened her wrists and ankles. They pulled her hands up and refastened them above her head.
The stretcher was removed, and her hips were positioned at the edge of the table with her legs pulled open and secured with ankle straps. She wanted to pretend that it was happening to someone else, but the flames leaping inside her body anchored her to the table.
They slipped a pillow under her head so she could see the crowd around her. She would have been horribly exposed, but one of the women had pulled the cloth down so that it dangled between her open legs.
It was all happening in a blur of unreality. Then a stir at the back of the enclosure made her go rigid.
The crowd parted, and San Donato stepped forward. He was naked to the waist, with a kind of long white skirt knotted around his hips. She could see his erection under it, and she cringed away.
A horrible tattoo fanned across his chest. It seemed to be a montage of faces spread across the front of him and onto one arm. And she thought it must be a living symbol of the horror that festered in his mind.
Tall men stood on either side of him. One of them was Bertrand.
Oh, Lord, Bertrand must be one of his most trusted men. And he had brought her to the island—for this twisted ceremony.
The throng went absolutely silent as San Donato and the other men walked toward her.
She shuddered. Were they all going to rape her? What?
San Donato had a look of satisfaction and anticipation on his face.
Even the faces on his damn tattoo looked satisfied.
No. Oh, God, no.
Bertrand and the other men moved to the sides of the table, standing at her shoulders.
San Donato knelt before the altar, speaking in a strong, confident voice.
“Ibena, I thank you for all the power you have granted me in the past. And I thank you for bringing my bride to this place. We will join together and we will be stronger than any who have come before us.”
This was it. Her last chance to get away. She focused on the thongs that bound her wrists, trying with every ounce of concentration to free her hands.
Nothing happened, and she held back a sob. But she kept trying, desperate to free herself, and all at once she felt something change.
Zach?
Yes.
He was here. Or was she just grabbing at a fantasy because it was her only hope of comfort?
But it felt like he was lending her his strength.
Still, what could the two of them do against San Donato and his mob?
Her mind zinged back to her surroundings as a hum of approval rose from the crowd when San Donato stood again and walked to her, his hand brushing her erect nipples through the thin fabric, sending a surge of arousal through her.
As he did, hatred shot through her. And energy. He thought he could join his mind with hers with this sick ceremony. But he was wrong. She would fight him with every shred of determination in her mind.
Zach. Please, Zach.
I’m coming. Hold on. Just hold on.
Help me.
The voice inside her head seemed louder. Yet maybe it was already too late.
San Donato reached for the cloth.
She raised up as far as she could, looking from San Donato to his followers and back again.
“I curse you, you disgusting animal,” she shouted, aloud and in her mind. She knew he felt the words as well as heard them because she saw pain flicker in his eyes. He gave her a murderous look and yanked the cloth away, the touch of the fabric like fire against her flesh.
The cloth fell to the ground just as someone in the crowd let out a shriek. Seconds later, cries of fear spread all over the enclosure.
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
Anna’s head jerked to the side as she saw the stockade fence erupt in flames.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
THE BURNING TORCHES were suddenly dwarfed by the tongues of fire shooting up from the walls of the enclosure—flames that reached for the sky and turned the arena into an inferno.
People who had been waiting for the show in happy anticipation made a mad dash for the exit, screaming and crying and trampling each other in their haste to get away.
Some of them screamed in pain. But she spared them no sympathy. They had come here to see her ravaged and humiliated, and they were paying a high price—and getting a performance they hadn’t anticipated.
In some part of her mind, Anna knew it wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real. Someone had turned the ceremonial ground into a nightmare inferno.
Not Zach. Someone else.
The man and woman who had contacted them before? Yes, they must be here, too.
With a new surge of hope, she struggled against her bonds. Triumph welled inside her as she pulled her hands free and struggled to a sitting position, bending to free her ankles. Then Zach was beside her, and she sobbed out his name.
“He didn’t…he didn’t…” She wanted him to know that right away, even if she still felt like she was going to jump out of her skin.
“Thank God.”
Zach had found her. And everything was all right. She was just about to sob out her relief when a new fear leaped inside her. One man hadn’t made a run for the doorway of the flaming enclosure. It was San Donato, and she saw his shadow towering against the wall as he loomed behind Zach, a wicked-looking knife in his hand.
“Watch out!” she screamed.
Zach dodged to the side as San Donato lunged. The knife came down on the table, inches from her thigh.
“You bastard!” Zach would have sprung at the man, but Anna’s silent shout held him back. Don’t…I want him to know he should never have gone after me. Help me.
The need to free herself from San Donato—finally and completely—gave her purpose. And for the moment, she was able to ignore the horrible heat that still held her body in its grip. She flexed her fingers, and Zach reached for her hand. The moment her body connected with his, she felt energy surge through her.
Zach!
Right here.
He let her do what she wanted, and she wanted justice. Or maybe it was revenge. For leaving Zach lying lifeless on the beach. For the whipping. For the horrible way he’d displayed her to his followers. And for the fate he’d tried to inflict on her.
As Zach opened his mind to hers, she gathered power from the flicker light of the fire—the fire she knew had no basis in reality—and turned it against the man who had wanted to enslave her.
Flames engulfed him.
“You bitch,” he shouted, his anger surging up to meet hers. He came rushing toward her, looking like his body had been doused with gasoline.