Chapter Eight

Carreon stood at the edge of the back porch, his crisp white shirt fluttering in the desert breeze. The fabric smelled of starch. The morning air of damp earth and lavish vegetation that surrounded his stronghold.

Beyond it, arid landscape stretched for miles, dotted with boulders and stunted Joshua trees that looked thirsty for water. The sun took away that hope, dominating a sky empty of clouds. Large black birds coasted on air currents, their wings outstretched, their cries intrusive and unwelcome.

His frustration continued to build, and his lieutenants knew. Two stood on either side of him. None dared to make any unnecessary noise as they scoured the area with high-power binoculars, searching for anything that approached.

Three days had passed since the battle and Zeke's escape…or rather his seeming disappearance with Liz into miles of desert.

The man on Carreon's left stepped forward suddenly, his binoculars trained on something. The other men turned in the same direction. Carreon squinted, trying to see what they did, his body going rigid with expectation and a spike of fear. Had Zeke returned with his men? In daylight? Was he that insane or determined to have his revenge? Killing his daughter and woman hadn't cowed Zeke as it had done others who'd defied Carreon. If anything, it had unleashed Zeke's rage.

Carreon rocked on his heels, prepared to run back into the stronghold, the shelter of his safe room.

One of his lieutenants blew out a sigh.

Carreon stared at the man then looked past, finally recognizing what approached. Nothing more than a dust devil. It rose for a moment, gaining altitude, then spun itself out, the sparse vegetation wiggling in its wake, leaving the ground pristine, unmarked by human tracks.

He swallowed in relief then frowned at the trouble Zeke continued to cause him. The prick should have been his prisoner by now, all of his men dead. But no, they'd proved as difficult to kill as roaches. As impossible to find. They were hiding underground, Carreon was certain of it, and yet his lieutenants had yet to locate any tunnels.

He'd worked them day and night, not allowing rest or food. All the fools had managed to accomplish was restoring the stronghold's security system and upgrading it to ward off another attack. How Zeke's men had managed to disable the alarm and cameras, Carreon had no idea. But the bastard now knew where the main stronghold was. He'd taken Liz, leaving Carreon with the problem of her father.

Dr. Munez sat on one of the wooden benches protected from the sun, the steady breeze ruffling his thick hair, shirt, and pants. He was alert but not entirely cooperative, failing to heal the two men who'd managed to survive. At least in the way Carreon wanted. Oscar and Anthony were seated on a bench next to the doctor's, still wearing their bloodstained clothes, their expressions blank, limbs listless, their brains not functioning to capacity.

From the moment Munez had seen them, he'd claimed they were too far gone for him to help and refused to lay his hands on either man. "There's nothing I or anyone else can do for them," he'd said.

"Bullshit," Carreon had countered. "You're a healer, so fucking heal them until they're back to the way they once were, or my men won't rescue your daughter. We'll let Neekoma do whatever he wants with her."

The older man refused to believe that Zeke had abducted Liz. Carreon dragged the fool through every room of the stronghold, showing him the clothing she'd left, proving he wasn't hiding her anywhere. When Munez still wouldn't accept the truth, one of Carreon's men called her practice. The doctor listened as the lieutenant asked for Liz. Her staff told him she hadn't shown up as usual, hadn't called, they didn't know where she was.

"I do," Carreon told her father. "But I need all of my men to rescue her. If you want your daughter back, you're going to call her practice and tell her people that she's with you, visiting a sick relative or whatever the fuck they'll believe so they don't call the authorities and report her missing. And then you're going to heal my people."

Reluctantly, Munez had followed his commands, at last laying his hands on Anthony and Oscar. He'd kept them from death while leaving them as they were now—useless as corpses to him.

Approaching the doctor, Carreon gestured to the two men. "Surely, there's something else you can do for them."

Munez regarded the panoramic stretch of land rather than his captor. "I've already told you, the damage to their brains was too extensive because of their wounds."

"And I've seen your daughter heal those who were so close to death the distinction between being alive and gone barely existed." He blocked the doctor's view and leaned down, clamping one hand on the bench's armrest, the other on its high back, cornering him. "You're a far stronger healer than she's ever been. One touch from you and the injured aren't only healed, they're better than they were before being hurt. You're holding back. Do you actually want Liz to die at the hands of Zeke Neekoma?"

Munez's mouth trembled with fear or grief, perhaps both. White stubble roughened his weathered cheeks and jaw, aging him further. He was as beaten as Carreon had ever seen him, no longer the defiant idealist who wanted nothing of the battle, only peace that could never be. Seizing the moment, Carreon taunted him further. "Want me to tell you what Neekoma is doing to her right now? How he's using her, how he's—"

"Stop." Munez turned to Carreon, misery in his expression. "If I could heal these men to save Liz, don't you think I would?"

"Try again now."

"It's no use."

"Do it," Carreon ordered, straightening so the doctor could go to Oscar and Anthony.

Munez didn't move.

"I said do it," Carreon repeated, "or you'll be the one who dies without ever seeing your daughter again." He gestured to his other men.

They drew their weapons, pointing the muzzles at Munez.

The doctor faced death with a mixture of relief and regret.

He wasn't getting off that fucking easy. He was going to do exactly what Carreon wanted. Tempering his rage, he murmured, "What do you think your death will do to Liz if we finally do get her back? How do you think her face will look when we show her your grave?" He leaned down to the elderly man, whispering in his ear, "She'll be alone, Munez. No parents. No siblings. No close relatives to comfort her, giving her a reason to live. Your death will finally break Liz. Is that what you want? Your daughter without hope? Your daughter looking to me and my men as her new family? What do you believe will become of her then?"

A faint cry of pain rose from the man. He grabbed Carreon's arm. His thin fingers held such brutal strength, Carreon started.

His men rushed forward, their weapons trained on Munez.

He dug his broken nails more deeply into Carreon's upper arm and growled, "You're going to rot in hell."

"Not before you do." He clawed Munez's hand, freeing himself.

The doctor smiled at Carreon staggering back, his previous expression of defeat replaced by renewed defiance.

A bead of perspiration ran down Carreon's cheek and fell from his jaw, staining his shirt. With all the will he owned, he relaxed his hands, fighting the temptation to beat Munez to death with his fists. "Heal them now," he ordered, "the way they should be, or you'll die and Liz will be mine to do with as I please. I won't make her captivity as pleasant as yours has been. I'll torture her in every way possible until she does whatever I say without question or pause."

Munez's face darkened. He pulled back his lips, showing his teeth as an animal would when it plans to attack.

"Take one step toward me and you'll be dead before your next," Carreon advised.

The man continued to stare, loathing evident in his refined features. He gripped the edge of the bench, using it to push to his feet.

Carreon resisted the urge to move back and take shelter behind one of his men.

Munez advanced, deliberately reckless, not appearing to care what happened.

Carreon's lieutenants turned to him, waiting for his order to fire, their expressions saying they were fearful of making the choice themselves.

"Heal them," Carreon growled at Munez. "Make him," he ordered his men.

The one nearest Munez grabbed the doctor's arm and pulled him toward the other bench then forced him to put his hand on Anthony's shoulder.

"No, no, no," Carreon complained, moving closer. "He has to touch his head to heal his brain."

Holstering his gun, the lieutenant grabbed Munez's hands and pushed them down to Anthony's skull.

A crackling noise emanated from the doctor's palms. The sound drowned out the birds' cries and the hiss of the breeze. Anthony stirred, his eyes widening, his vacant gaze clearing as though his thought processes were picking up.

Yes.

"Anthony," Carreon said, "look at me." Prove you're back.

The young man blinked slowly, an obvious effort for him. His brows drew together as he continued to grow more alert.

"Anthony," Carreon repeated. "Can you hear me?"

The man's face froze in an expression of confusion that turned to quick terror.

"What's happening?" Carreon shouted at Munez. "What the fuck are you doing?"

His hands remained on Anthony's head, held there by Carreon's lieutenant. "Healing him as you've forced me to do."

"Liar. He's afraid."

"Of the pain," the doctor muttered. "The process can be agonizing. You know that."

Carreon did. With each jolt of Liz's power, his blood had burned like acid as it flowed more surely through his veins and arteries. However, he didn't remember reacting as Anthony was now. He'd been near death one moment and healthy the next, taking Liz in his arms, using her as he desired, as though he'd never been injured.

"Your power's too strong for him," Carreon said to Munez then spoke to the man holding him. "Let the doctor go."

He released Munez and stepped away.

The doctor continued to lay his palms on Anthony's head.

"I said stop," Carreon snapped, punching Munez's hands, forcing him back. "Anthony." He leaned down, regarding him. "Are you all right? What are you feeling?"

Anthony attempted to answer but no words came out. No sounds at all. His face flushed as he tried harder to speak, his lips pursing then pulling back in a grimace when he failed. Tears dripped from his lashes. Unmistakable terror flickered in his eyes.

"What's the matter with him?" Carreon asked Munez. "Can he hear me? Does he know what's happening?"

"All too well."

Carreon straightened and got in the old man's face. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Munez regarded Anthony with what seemed to be guilt or sorrow, the look a physician reserves for a terminally ill patient. "Portions of his brain died from the trauma. They're beyond simple healing. He's retained enough function to know what's going on around him but not to be autonomous. It's this state I wanted to spare him from."

More tears ran down Anthony's face. He continued to struggle to speak and to move, lifting his hands a bit only to have them flop uselessly at his sides. Next, he tried to control his feet. They jerked to the right then to the left in clonic, aimless motions seen in those who suffer from Parkinson's or Alzheimer's.

Anthony was only twenty-three, an important part of Carreon's service. Useless to him now. "What about Oscar?" he asked. "Heal him."

The doctor argued, "It won't do any good. The result will be exactly the same."

"Prove it."

"No. I have no desire to torture the man, even if he deserves it."

Carreon signaled to his lieutenant to do what he had before. Compliant as always, the man held Munez's palms on Oscar's head. Minutes later, the conclusion was the same—a nearly alert mind trapped in a worthless body.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Carreon went to the edge of the porch and regarded his domain. Perfect white roses mingled with other flowers in varying shades of pink and red, adding a touch of beauty to this prison. That was what it was now that Zeke knew its location, robbing Carreon of his privacy and the element of surprise. Hour upon hour, his men would search the landscape to see if anyone neared, but the stronghold would never again bring complete security.

A cautious man might have abandoned this place, settling in another. Carreon wasn't about to show such obvious cowardice or give up what was rightfully his. This belonged to him. As did Liz and his command. He'd never relinquish a bit of it. If anything he wanted more. He'd heard his people's stories about the Unknowns and the Others returning here someday. If it came to pass, what might the Unknowns give him if Carreon had knowledge of what happened in the future? A power his alien ancestors didn't possess.

"Take Oscar and Anthony into the desert," he said to his men. "Leave them there."

"No!" Munez shouted. "They can't fend for themselves."

Carreon regarded the older man, not bothering to hide his contempt. "That's not my concern. They're useless to me now. You've failed, Doctor, and now they'll pay for what you couldn't do. They'll grow thirsty and hungry but won't be able to do anything about it, will they? They'll watch the birds circling, waiting for their deaths. They'll feel the creatures' bills pecking at their throats, faces, eyes, eating them alive while they—"

"Bastard." Munez clenched his fists. "You'd do that to your own people?"

"Unless you can heal them, returning each to what he was before."

"You're going to rot in hell!"

"You've already said that. Go," Carreon ordered his men. "Leave Anthony and Oscar close enough to the porch so the others can see what happens when they don't beat back Neekoma's men. When they allow that prick to win."

Three of his lieutenants helped Oscar and Anthony from the bench, leading them to their prolonged deaths. Another lieutenant grabbed Munez's arm, ignoring the doctor's shouts as he pulled him back inside.

Carreon followed, returning to his safe room to contact his other people. To find out if they'd learned anything yet about the location of Zeke's stronghold.

Thick vegetation shielded the play area from the worst of the midday sun and any aircraft that might pass by. The bosque, as locals called it, received nourishment from a network of aqueducts developed millennia before by the Others. Boys and girls of various ages ran between the cottonwood and salt cedar trees, working off the energy they'd built up during their lessons, dodging their playmates who tried to touch them in a game of tag. From the sidelines, toddlers watched, wiggling within their mothers' arms. The women restrained their offspring to keep them from joining the fray and getting hurt.

Hester, an eight-year-old, eluded David who'd just turned seven. She laughed at his failure to touch her then squealed as he really poured on the steam, determined to eliminate her from the play.

Zeke watched, smiling one moment, sighing the next, his anguish over losing Gabrielle coloring his joy at seeing these kids engaging in normal activities, having the chance to be safe, to grow up. He pictured his daughter doing the same, his thoughts speaking to her as they so often did.

Are you doing all right today, baby? Do you and your mama feel safe finally? Happy?

An infant shrieked, capturing Zeke's attention but not alarming him. The little boy was safe within his mother's embrace, his scowl on Liz. She was dressed in jeans and a tee provided by one of the clan's younger women. Bent at the waist, she cooed at the baby, telling him he was a big boy, a good boy while tickling his pudgy belly. His next cry was more subdued, his expression confused as to what he should feel. Outrage at a stranger being so close and having the audacity to touch him? Curiosity as to who she might be? A bit of trust that she'd do him no harm?

Liz settled the matter by making funny faces and stroking the boy beneath his chin.

He gave her a tentative smile, a thin line of drool seeping from the side of his mouth. He gurgled next, his complexion going from bright red back to its normal shade. Didn't last. A series of coughs shook his small body.

"It's okay, it's okay," Liz assured, running her hand over his unruly black hair.

Exhausted from his coughing, he sagged into his mother, making no protest as Liz put her ear to his chest to listen to his breathing.

To Zeke, she looked like a healer from the fifteen hundreds rather than a modern-day pediatrician. Damn. He pushed his fingers through his hair, pulling it away from his neck. He had to get Liz a stethoscope and other medical equipment so she could do her job properly, the way a regular physician would. Having her heal the clan's children wasn't going to be as simple as he'd first thought. Her gift was even more of a risk to them than it had been with him and Jacob.

"If I allow the energy within me to flow inside a child, much less an infant, it could be worse than what's making them sick," she'd explained. "Children are still growing. My gift might interfere with that process in ways we don't know, something that might not manifest itself until much later. Maybe that's what my father was talking about when he kept warning me to be careful. What if the accelerated healing does something to a child's cells, causing them to divide even faster, out of control?"

She'd been speaking of cancer, giving leukemia or bone tumors to innocent children.

"When my father still practiced, he never once used his gift on his patients," she said. "I'll examine the kids, but if what they have is more serious than minor abrasions or the sniffles, they'll have to have regular medical attention."

The kind she could provide with the proper supplies. Unfortunately, all the clan had was over-the-counter medications.

He had to get the prescription stuff and everything else Liz might need, including her violet-scented shampoo and perfume that he liked so much. He wasn't going to bring her back. Day after day, he'd given her excuses as to why she was still here. He'd kept her busy with checking out the kids, using those small souls to bond her to his clan.

Thank God for children. Most made it to their early teens before they learned to distrust. The adults, however, were already there big-time. The baby's mother wore a neutral expression as Liz examined her son, but Zeke saw the wariness and simmering hatred in the young woman's eyes.

No different from Kele's.

The first morning of Liz's stay here, Kele had been sitting on the floor outside Jacob's room, not even trying to hide the fact that she'd been there all evening, waiting for him to emerge. When he did—along with Liz—Zeke could only imagine what Kele was thinking. What she'd heard throughout the night.

Jacob hadn't even tried to be quiet or to control his urges. Although he hadn't confronted Zeke directly about wanting Liz, he'd made his demands known. When Zeke carried her out of the bath and placed her on the mattress, Jacob followed, climbing on the bed, draping his body over hers before Zeke could, kissing her breathless.

She'd submitted, stealing glimpses at Zeke, her expression urging him not to start anything that might turn out bad. Like a good boy, he'd restrained himself and wasn't pleased with the outcome. After a time, Jacob's foreplay distracted Liz to the point of no return. Her lewd moans encouraged Jacob to continue kissing her neck, suckling her nipples, running his hand between her legs.

Only when he'd finished mounting her and had fallen back to sleep did Zeke have a chance to gather Liz in his arms, asking what he never thought he would. "What do you want?" Who?

In answer, she wound a strand of his hair around her forefinger and brushed her lips over his cheek. Their satiny warmth sent a shiver of delight through Zeke, making him crave even more. Everything she could possibly give. He increased his grip, hugging her as hard as he could without hurting her.

Liz whispered, "Do you even have to ask?"

Yeah, he did. With her, he didn't feel like the big-shot leader of his clan or a powerful seer charged with everyone's protection. He was a fucking insecure guy who wasn't about to share his woman with anyone. Not even his damn baby brother. Maybe him especially. "Answer me."

His demand had her snuggling closer, trying to calm. "You," she breathed then rubbed her nose on his shoulder. "I want you."

She'd spoken quietly so Jacob wouldn't overhear or awaken. Zeke took her then, driving his cock into her cunt without foreplay or permission. The tenor of her words, her caress, and sweet sighs had given him the right to do exactly as he willed. He'd pounded into her as he hadn't before, pulling Jacob from sleep.

"Shit," his brother complained, pushing to his elbows. "You're bouncing the mattress so fucking bad I'm going to fall off."

Good. "If you don't like it," Zeke panted then thrust again, "move to another goddamn room."

"No way. This one's mine."

"Which I assigned to you."

"And now you're taking it back? You actually have the gall to—"

"Both of you shut up," Liz ordered then sucked in more air. "If you don't, I'll move to another room."

Her threat settled that argument, though not the ones Zeke sensed coming. He scanned the mothers in the yard. Their black hair gleamed in the sunlight that broke through the leaves. Many of them were watching Liz as she tended to her young patient. Concern flickered on their faces, along with continuing confusion as to why she was still here.

Zeke hadn't yet told them she was going to stay. He hadn't figured out a way to make it happen, except that it involved rescuing her father from Carreon then bringing Dr. Munez here to be with her. With that settled, all Zeke had to do was get rid of Carreon and his men with attack after attack. The endless bloodshed Liz said she didn't want. Zeke knew it was necessary and the only way any of them would be safe finally and free. Once that happened, she, he, and her father could live out their lives together with his clan, building a new fu—

A hand touched Zeke's arm, interrupting his thoughts.

"How are you feeling?" Isabel asked.

An older woman, she'd been his mother's BFF from the time they'd met in high school. Only a few lines marred Isabel's coppery skin. If not for her graying hair, she would have been mistaken for a woman decades younger.

Zeke took her hand in both of his. "I'm fine. So is Jacob."

She looked unconvinced and glanced past.

On the edge of the yard beneath one of the cottonwoods, Zeke spotted Kele. She was watching Jacob as he watched Liz, his desire evident. Driven, Zeke knew, by Jacob's unspoken and endless competition with him.

"The doctor has to leave," Isabel said, easing her hand from his. "You do know that, don't you, Zeke?"

A pang of sorrow reduced him to silence. Answering her wasn't something he could do right now, nor could he acquiesce to the wisdom of what Isabel had said. She was one of his people, but Liz had somehow become his life.

"You have to see that she goes back today," she said.

Zeke cleared his throat. "No. I can't."

She leaned closer so the others wouldn't overhear. "What do you mean? Of course, you can. You have to."

"It's not possible," he insisted. "If Liz returns, she'll die. Carreon will kill her. I've seen it in my visions."

Her frown deepened. "She heals his men so they can continue to slaughter our people. Why would he want her dead?"

"Because he's amoral, a psychopath. Have you forgotten what he had his men do to his own father so he could take control? Have you forgotten what his men did to Gabrielle, Angie, and the other women who were at the birthday party that day?"

"Zeke, easy." She stroked his shoulder, smoothing the soft cotton of his tee as a mother might, trying to calm him. "Of course, I haven't forgotten about your daughter and Angie. No one here ever will. I'm trying to look at this realistically."

"And I'm not?"

She withdrew her hand. "I don't think you are. Listen to me, please," she said when he turned away.

On a pissed huff, Zeke faced her again.

Isabel checked to make certain no one was watching them or listening before she continued. "Even if her and Carreon's shared blood doesn't mean anything to him, she's still an asset to his operation because of her gift. Your vision could be wrong. It could be colored by your feelings for her."

"My feelings have nothing to do with this. The vision came before I'd even met her, Isabel."

"But you might be interpreting it wrong."

"His hands around Liz's throat choking her were pretty damn clear to me. How else could I interpret that? Why would you want me to ignore it? What has Liz ever done to you that you'd want her dead?"

"What are you talking about? I don't hate the woman. I never said I wanted her to come to harm."

"Good. I don't want Liz hurt either, which means she has to stay here. Not only for her own safety," he added quickly, "but for the clan's."

She frowned. "Her being here puts us at risk. It's already caused problems between Kele and Jacob."

Zeke sighed. "Every woman in this clan who's under forty is competition for Kele. We can't get rid of all of them to make her happy or to make Jacob love her, can we. Sending Liz back isn't going to solve that problem. All it would do would put her and the clan at risk. If she returns to Carreon, he'll threaten to kill her father if she doesn't reveal the location of this stronghold. She wouldn't last a second in that situation, any more than you or the others here would when faced with losing someone they love. I can't allow Carreon to do that to her or to put any of us in his crosshairs."

Her graying brows continued to lift. "Zeke, listen to what you're saying, please. Liz was in the back of the van. She couldn't possibly have seen the route. She can't possibly reveal something she doesn't know."

"Do you think that matters to someone like Carreon? Liz knows of this place's existence. That's all that counts. Carreon's men will search the mountains where they've never thought to look before. It may take them some time, but they'll eventually discover this place."

"They might do that in any event. The others have been talking and want her gone today. As soon as possible. That doesn't mean you have to bring her back to him. Take her to a place where Carreon will never find her, as long as it's not here. She can't stay in our stronghold."

"Why not?" he argued, his frustration turning to the same helplessness he'd felt upon losing Gabrielle. A feeling he loathed and refused to experience again. "Liz can treat the children, making certain they stay healthy. She can heal our men if Carreon attacks them on the outside. She's what we've been waiting for."

Isabel stepped back. "No, Zeke. She's what you've been waiting for. I see it in your eyes. Hear it in your voice. With her, you're different than you were with Angie or the other women in the clan. I've known you all your life. I've seen you sacrifice everything for our people until now. You refuse to believe Liz is poison to our kind. Forget that she's come between Jacob and Kele; she's doing the same with you and your own brother. The only person who should count. Doesn't that worry you?"

"He'll get over Liz," Zeke muttered.

"And if he doesn't? Do you intend to fight him for her?"

If necessary. "It won't come to that."

"It already has." She flung out her arm. "Look at him."

No way. He figured Jacob was drooling over Liz, oblivious to Kele's hurt and Zeke's mounting anger. "I'll have a talk with him as soon as you and I are finished. Settle this before it gets out of hand."

"Talking will do no good. Your brother wants what he wants as you do. You'll regret her staying here."

How wrong she was. He'd die if Liz left. What Zeke felt for her was so unique, so precious it stole his breath, leaving him barely able to function. A frightening feeling…a marvelous one he refused to live without. "I'll make certain no harm comes to our people. I'd never put any of you at risk."

"You already have," she said and left his side.