Chapter Three

Her skin stung with apprehension then went clammy with overwhelming dread.

Carreon was going to kill her? If she wanted to live, she had to go with Zeke?

What in the hell was he talking about? Did he believe they were alone in this room? Even if he did, was he foolish enough to think they had a clear way out of the mansion or that she'd actually leave with him? To go where? To do what?

They were freaking enemies. She'd seen that truth on his face seconds before he'd kissed her with such touching sweetness she'd nearly whimpered. Was it an act? How could it be anything else? He was playing on her previous response to him, using it to his advantage, thinking it would make her trust his lies more easily than she would Carreon's.

No way. Not this time. She knew how men like him and Carreon charmed a woman to get what they wanted. At least initially. Once they assured their hold on a victim, they became hard and murderous. It was in their blood, both from their ancient warring tribes and the aliens.

Planting her hands on Zeke's biceps, Liz pushed as hard as she could, grunting with the effort.

Zeke didn't make any noise. Nor did he move.

Fuck. With all the strength she owned, Liz shoved the heels of her hands against his muscular pecs. Zeke lifted his face, his expression indifferent at her futile effort. Oh yeah? She dug her nails into him.

If he suffered any pain, he didn't show it, nor did she see the kind of rage that flared so frequently in Carreon. Zeke regarded her with seeming calm, his irises as black as charcoal.

She mouthed, Get off me.

He did not.

She dug her nails deeper, intent on drawing blood or removing hunks of flesh if necessary.

Again, he leaned close, a strand of his hair tickling her cheek, his breath hot, sweet with restored health. Her body responded traitorously, her fingers relaxing, her sheath tightening around his cock.

He murmured, "You're coming with me."

She stilled at his choice of words. Not the same urgent suggestion that she had to come with him, but that she would…whether she wanted to or not. She gritted her teeth. Already he was showing his true nature. What an idiot she'd been for imagining him an innocent boy rather than a brutal man. How could she have felt shame and remorse for bringing him back? How could she have allowed herself to weaken again within his embrace?

"Like hell," she whispered.

"You don't have a choice."

From behind, Carreon said, "Take him."

Chair legs skidded over the polished wood, followed by the smack of shoes as his lieutenants approached.

The young man who'd once mounted Liz reached out to grab Zeke's shoulder.

As though he didn't exist, as though none of them did, Zeke kept his full attention on her, not even trying to hide his naked passion and resolve, so male and unashamed. Beneath it, there appeared to be a hint of mercy.

No. That wasn't possible. She turned her face from his then flinched at a heavy crash in the hall, the sounds of shattering stone and splintering wood.

Snatching back his hand, Carreon's lieutenant bolted to the doorway.

A barrage of automatic gunfire erupted from the hall.

Liz sucked in a breath. Zeke pulled out of her and scrambled off then grabbed Liz's arm, hauling her from the bed. Her outraged cry was no more than a strangled croak. Clawing his hand, she fought to release herself.

Zeke yanked her to the doorway. Two of Carreon's lieutenants lay in puddles of blood, their foreheads and shoulders torn away by bullets. On the other side of the hall, she saw the man who'd once used her so thoroughly. The back of his head was gone, his blood sprayed in a wide arc across the ceiling. Beads of the plasma dripped down, falling on a fern's feathery leaves, filling the coolish air with its metallic stench.

A wave of nausea rolled over Liz. She should have turned away from the carnage but couldn't. This man's hand, like those of his companions, rested on his undrawn gun.

Where was Carreon?

Zeke pulled her from the room.

Pounding his forearm, Liz glanced down the hall. At the end of it, one of the Spanish credenzas lay on its side, its shattered wood having gouged a hole in the pavers. A burst of white light flashed from the left of it, accompanied by the sound of renewed gunfire.

Who was shooting? How had they breached the mansion's security? Had they killed Carreon? What about her father? Was he—

Her thoughts stalled at Zeke tugging her in the opposite direction, forcing her to follow him.

She resisted, pressing the soles of her feet into the smooth pavers. Zeke jerked her forward. Liz scratched his hand, arm, and shoulder.

"Stop it," he growled.

"Not until you let go of me."

He halted so quickly Liz bumped into him. Before she could regain her balance and flee, Zeke bent at the waist and slung her over his shoulder.

Liz's breath whooshed out on a shocked cry, her arms flailing helplessly, smacking his back.

Zeke hurried down the hall.

"Goddamn you," she spat. "Put me down."

He tightened his arm around her.

She pummeled his kidneys.

"Motherfuck," he roared then brought his palm down on her ass, again and again, as hard as he could.

The sting registered seconds after the harsh smacking sounds, the pain proving more than Liz could bear. She stopped hitting him in favor of protecting her ass. "You prick," she shouted.

"You started it." He turned the corner into another hall, his breath pumping out, his strides lumbering from her weight.

She yelled, "Let. Me. Go."

"Goddammit, keep quiet."

"Or what? You'll beat me up?"

"Don't tempt me."

"My father!" she cried.

Zeke hauled in a noisy breath, choking it out with his words. "He's safe."

What? How? "You have him?" Her words and body bounced as Zeke moved down the mansion's seldom-used back stairs. "How could you have him? Until a few minutes ago, you could barely breathe, much less have had enough strength to rescue anyone. Who fired? Who's firing now?"

In a far corner of the structure, there were muted blasts, silence, then more shots from automatic weapons.

At the bottom of the stairs, Zeke bent down and released Liz. She stumbled back, her shoulder hitting the wall. Damn. Her face scrunched at the pain. She lifted her hand to massage it then froze at what she saw. Inches from her feet were two more of Carreon's men, their bloodied bodies on top of each other, arms and legs tangled.

Shivering uncontrollably, Liz pushed away from the wall and rounded the corpses only to bump into Zeke.

Her mouth opened on a new protest. He cut it off, snaking his arm around her shoulders.

She had no choice except to follow, lurching against him as he brought her outside to the drive that led to the garage.

A van waited, the kind small business owners use to deliver flowers or antiques. There were no side windows in the business end of the vehicle, its color as black as Zeke's eyes. With its headlights off, the transport would be nearly invisible on the heavily shadowed landscape, just another indistinct form beneath the frail threads of moonlight.

Zeke pulled Liz to its back doors. She wanted to fight him but wasn't certain if she should.

He'd said her father was safe.

Was it possible he was inside the vehicle? She looked at the small windows at the top of its doors.

A new wave of gunfire sounded from within, so faint it must have come from the other side of the mansion. Not trusting the battle to remain there, Liz glanced over, expecting the worst.

Two men dashed outside, each gripping an assault rifle. Spare weapons and two-way radios bounced from belts slung across their chests. They were dressed in black, their sharp, Native American features resembling Zeke's.

Still holding on to her, he asked, "Losses?"

"None that we know of," the stockier of his men said then glanced at Zeke's chest illuminated by a slash of light from inside. His brows lifted at the healed bullet wounds and fresh scratches from Liz's nails. After sneaking a peek at her, he continued, "Aaron, Ike, and Samuel are still in there. We disabled the security system and cameras first as planned." Concern flashed across his face. "Some of Carreon's men escaped through passages in the walls. We tried to follow but couldn't."

"Our guys are continuing to search," the other man promised, his face a mask, not revealing his thoughts. "They won't leave until the job's finished."

Swearing beneath his breath, Zeke opened the van's back door. "We can't wait for them. We need to go now."

As his men strode to the front of the vehicle, Liz peered into its darkened interior, looking for her father. A large shadow to the left caught her attention, until she realized it was a cache of weapons. Her heart fell, even as hope hung on.

"He's safe," Zeke had said.

She wanted to believe him but couldn't imagine how he could be telling her the truth.

Why would his men help her father? Why would any of them rescue her when Carreon had said Zeke wanted her dead so that his life and his people's would be easier without her healing their enemies?

"Get in," he ordered.

She didn't—wouldn't, not until she saw her father again. Turning to Zeke, she leveled with him. "I know you're planning to kill me. I also know that I won't be able to stop it no matter what I say or do. So I'm asking you to execute me here. Let me be with my father again. Please."

"Execute you?" Indignation and shock colored his question.

Whether his reaction was genuine or an act, Liz had no idea. Nor did she care. She was so tired of fighting, so weary from worry. "Just let me see him one last time," she begged. "Then do what you want to me. It doesn't matter any longer."

He arched one dark brow. "You'd offer your life for a moment with your father? You care so much for him?"

Was he serious? She made a face. "As much as you care for the woman I took you from, the one you were trying to reach before I healed you."

He stared at her, misery sweeping his features. Quick tears sparkled in his eyes, making him seem oddly young. The boy Liz had imagined him to be, after which she'd chided herself for such a foolish fantasy.

"As much as you obviously loved your wife," she said, "I also love—"

"I was back with Gabrielle, my daughter," he interrupted then cleared his throat before continuing. "She was eight years old when Carreon's men murdered her, her mother, and a dozen other women from our clan, many of them elderly. My men and I had just taken them to another child's birthday party when they attacked."

Liz's stomach rolled. On instinct, as one person to another, she rested her hand on his forearm.

Zeke's muscles bunched while the rest of him went rigid, his expression telling her he didn't want pity or concern from someone like her.

Embarrassed, Liz brought back her hand and curled her fingers into a loose fist. "I'm so sorry," she said, meaning it.

"Are you?" His expression hardened. "I told you, your father's safe. If you want to see him again, then get inside the damn van before I throw you in there."

She wanted to argue, to question him as to where he had her father, how his men had rescued him. A spurt of approaching gunfire changed her mind on that. Liz scooted over the rough carpeting to the side facing the weapons. Sleek and deadly, their metal parts gleamed in the scant light.

Once inside, Zeke shut the doors, locking them. The vehicle's motor rumbled to life, its tires swishing over the drive, taking them from the mansion's lights. Given the van's small windows, the moon's glow did little to alleviate the darkness within.

Not yet adjusted to the gloom, Liz could no longer clearly see Zeke. However, she remained all too aware of his presence. Heat radiated from his big body. His skin smelled of sex. She heard his quiet respirations and then his sharp intake of breath.

"What happened?" she blurted, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to see. Had he taken a bullet at the mansion that she hadn't noticed? "Are you in pain?"

"Fuck yeah. Don't you recall clawing me?"

He was whining about that when three bullets to his chest hadn't gotten a rise out of him? Leaning back, Liz stated the obvious. "I wanted you to let me go."

He breathed heavily again. "Not a chance."

An internal alarm went off at the change in his voice. From a tone thick with aggravation to one laced with purpose and arousal. The van made a quick right. Liz dug her nails into the carpeting then glanced at the moon spilling through the back windows, casting the interior in its silvery glow. When they stayed on this course and the light remained, she regarded Zeke.

He sat with one leg outstretched—his toes no more than an inch from her calf—his other leg bent at the knee, his forearm draped over it. He didn't bother to cover his balls or cock that still glistened with come. He stared at her nudity, his expression unrepentant.

Liz's nipples puckered, tightening to a point where they began to hurt.

As though Zeke approved of her response to his ruthless masculinity, he offered a smug smile.

Arrogant SOB. Resisting the urge to cover herself, Liz remained as she was. Her breasts quivered with each bounce of the van. Her parted legs revealed her cunt, damp with his ejaculate and her previous excitement.

He studied that part of her the longest.

She managed to speak without passion. "Where's my father?"

Zeke perused her body at his leisure and with a right that said she now belonged to him.

"Safe."

He sounded like Carreon, doling out cryptic answers that revealed nothing. Screw that shit. She wasn't going to be put off that easily any longer. "Where, dammit?"

He ignored her.

She saw red—boiling, brutal red. Curling her fingers, Liz hurled herself at him, ready to draw blood.

"Oh no, you don't." He caught her wrists, using his hold to turn her around and trap her against him.

"Let go of me," she snapped.

His grip tightened. Not enough to harm but to let her know he wasn't about to give her what she wanted.

Liz rammed her back into his chest.

Muttering an oath, he wrapped her arms around her torso, confining her further. Liz slammed her heels into his shins. He didn't budge. She dug her elbows into whatever part of him she could reach until she was breathless.

As she sucked in air, Zeke pressed his mouth to her ear. "Stop fighting me, or I'll give you a fucking spanking you'll never forget."

"Not if I kick you in the balls first."

He inhaled deeply, tempering his anger as he spoke. "Your father's safe. No one's going to hurt him. I give you my word on that."

"Your word means nothing."

"I'm not Carreon."

"No, you're worse."

He released his breath in what sounded like a pissed sigh then kissed her cheek.

Startled at his unexpected gentleness, Liz turned her face from him. "Stop it. I don't want you touching me."

"You did at Carreon's mansion." He brushed his lips over her shoulder then again settled his mouth on her ear, his breath tickling it. "Don't deny it. I saw what was in your eyes. I felt your body's response."

"Like hell," she lied. "I—"

Her words stopped as Zeke released one of her hands and cupped her mound, his fingers dipping over its edge to touch her moist vaginal lips and erect clit.

He flicked the small nub with his thumb. On a wanting gasp, Liz lifted her buttocks.

"You want this," he murmured.

No. She didn't…couldn't. He was the enemy. No better than Carreon. In time, Zeke would prove to be as brutal. She shook her head, her hair swishing over his chest.

He stroked her again. A surge of pleasure dashed from her pussy to her belly. He whispered, "Admit it."

Liz bit back a whimper and spoke through her teeth. "Let me go."

"No."

"Damn you." She closed her legs so he couldn't continue.

Unfazed, he brought his hand to his face, inhaling deeply of her scent mingled with his.

Liz panted out her words. "If my father's safe, then where is he? If you're not going to kill me, then where are we going?"

His chest quivered as he spoke. "In time, you'll see."

"See what?" she argued, trying to pull away. His embrace tightened, not allowing it. Liz snapped, "Are you going to ransom me to Carreon? Is that it? Do you think he'd pay to get me back?"

"With money? No."

His answer was so blunt, Liz stopped struggling and looked over. Moonlight played on the sharp angles of his face, his sable eyes glinting with it. "Then what? He has one of your men?" she asked. "You intend to trade me for him?"

Not giving him a chance to confirm or deny, she continued, "That's why you were headed to my office. You intended to kidnap me all along so you could trade me for him."

He studied her for a long moment as though buying time to frame his answer. "I have no intention of trading you for anyone or anything, Liz. It's you I wanted and sought all along."

"What?"

His lips curled up in a wolfish smile. "Not for me, though I might have changed my mind on that."

Alarm returned, mingled with too much wayward lust. "What?"

"I came for you because of my brother Jacob." Zeke pressed his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. "He's the only family I have left. Carreon's men attacked him tonight. You're going to heal him."