by Tina Donahue
Deep Within Me
( The Prophecy - 2 )
Tina Donahue
For one agonizing moment, Zeke Neekoma thought his most feared vision had come true. Liz was lifeless in his arms, murdered by her own clan for one traitorous act loving him. Then her father s healing touch brought her back.
She hasn t emerged from death unchanged. Now her healing gift leaves her drained, weak. Worse, Zeke is still tortured with visions of a woman covered in blood.
Liz aches for a future with Zeke, to always know the thrill of his body imprisoning hers with mindless pleasure. At her reanimation, she redoubles her determination to use her healing gifts to help his people except Zeke refuses to allow her to use them.
But with her clan leader set to launch his next attack, Zeke and Jacob have no choice but to try to heal Liz with the same sensual force she used to save them. Yet it may not be enough to avert a merciless plan that will test Zeke s humanity, risk Liz s life and threaten their timeless bond.
Warning: Features a determined hunk and a babe who won t be tamed, loads of lusty sex including some menage, a ton of unrelenting peril, and love that knows no limit. In other words, a romance hot enough to vaporize steel.
Deep Within Me
The Prophecy - 2
by
Tina Donahue
To all the characters who are gone from The Walking Dead. Dale, Sofia, Lori, Shane…I’ll miss you.
Michonne—you go, girl!
Chapter One
Zeke Neekoma gripped the Jeep’s steering wheel. His eyes swept the barren New Mexico desert. At this hour, moonlight reduced colors to varying shades of gray and deepened the shadows cast by stunted vegetation and rocks. The perfect setting for a sci-fi film…or the endless battles and murders played out here.
Less than two weeks before, Zeke had been close to death from three bullets near his heart. Although no hospital emergency room or medical staff had seen to his rescue and recovery, his body recorded no lingering distress from the incident. The wounds were mere pinpricks on his chest, hardly noticeable, his pulse strong yet too fast, heightened by a continued flood of adrenaline.
Because of Liz—once his enemy, now the woman he adored.
She’d died. He’d seen it, had caressed her limp body, begging her not to leave him. And then…
The enormity of what had happened hit Zeke fully now. He tried to swallow and couldn’t quite manage the action. His throat was too dry, his palms so damp they kept slipping on the steering wheel. He rubbed one hand, then the other on his jeans and clutched the wheel as hard as he could for some measure of control. Didn’t work.
The events of the last few minutes precluded it, the memories assaulting him.
He recalled racing to Carreon’s stronghold, where Liz had gone to stop the man. Carreon was her clan’s leader and the worst sort of coward. He harmed women, children, anyone who was helpless against him. Liz had hoped the bastard’s death would end the bloodshed between her and Zeke’s clans.
How wrong she’d been to have confronted him. When Zeke arrived, Carreon was in his black Escalade with Liz’s father in the passenger seat. All these months, Carreon had kept Dr. Munez prisoner to ensure Liz’s obedience to whatever he demanded. Upon seeing Zeke, Carreon pushed Munez from the SUV, directly into the path of Zeke’s vehicle, forcing him to stop. The action allowed Carreon to escape.
Inside the stronghold—within the safe room—Zeke had found Liz’s body. Carreon had strangled her, just as Zeke’s visions had warned…horrific images he’d been unable to stop. Liz’s face was swollen and purplish. Bruises ringed her neck. He’d felt for a pulse but there hadn’t been any. No signs of—
Zeke forced back a shudder, not wanting to revisit that horror again. Desperate to flee the images, he stomped on the Jeep’s accelerator. With too much gas, the vehicle jerked forward, then jounced over the uneven terrain. He had to fight to keep it steady and to see where he was going. Turning on the headlights wasn’t something he could do. Carreon’s men might see them. They were still out here.
Before Zeke could slow down, the tires hit a particularly deep rut. The Jeep’s front tires dropped into it, and then the vehicle jolted upward.
Liz inhaled sharply. She dug her fingers into Zeke’s thigh to steady herself.
He wanted to glance at her but resisted the urge. All they needed now was for him to lose control of the Jeep, flipping it. Injuring not only himself, but also Liz and her father to the point of unconsciousness. Before long, Carreon’s men would arrive, circling them like vultures.
How could you forget that? What the fuck is the matter with you?
Zeke eased his foot from the accelerator to slow the vehicle. “You okay?” he asked Liz.
“Yeah.”
Her voice didn’t rasp from her previous injuries…her murder. It was as though it had never occurred, the same as Zeke’s brush with death. After another deep breath, she stopped gripping his leg and rested her palm on his thigh.
Her hand’s weight sent a flood of warmth through Zeke that comforted and aroused him. He recalled the feel of her lush nudity, her willing submission and longing for his kisses, the hunger of his caress, his cock buried deep within her cunt.
Its tightness and heat was the shelter he’d needed and had always searched for without even knowing it. Her smile of approval, the love he recognized in her eyes was the only heaven Zeke desired.
Without her, he’d die, no longer caring what happened. With her, he had hope for the future, the first in years. All he had to do to make certain it lasted was to find Carreon and kill the prick. Not quickly, though. He needed the bastard to suffer for what he’d done in the past to Zeke’s clan and family. To his little girl Gabrielle.
A surge of outrage, quick and hot, tore through Zeke.
“You all right?” Liz asked, squeezing his thigh.
He fought to control his anger and finally managed a nod. He’d deal with Carreon later. Right now, he had to see to Liz’s safety and her father’s. They were more than ten miles from his clan’s stronghold with few places to hide in this desolate area. A precarious position. The only thing that might possibly save them was this route. Here, they shouldn’t run into Carreon’s three lieutenants who’d escaped tonight’s battle with Zeke’s men.
Liz twisted slightly, trying to see in the back. Her father sat behind her. “Papa, you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
His words bounced in concert with the Jeep’s rough movements.
Liz blew out a breath.
Zeke welcomed the sound as much as he did her laughter, her pleasured moans when he mounted her. Thankfully, that would happen again. A fucking lot. Hell, if he had his way, he’d never pull out of her. Certainly not to sleep, perhaps not even to eat.
Losing her once was all that he could bear.
The corners of his eyes were still sticky from tears, shed when he’d believed she was gone from him forever. He’d thought, as Liz had, that she and her father were only able to heal the injured, a gift bestowed on them by their mixture of Aztec and extraterrestrial blood.
Because of Carreon and men like him, Liz’s father hadn’t told her the most important secret regarding their gift.
Not only could they undo damage from an accident or the bullets that had torn into Zeke’s chest, they could reanimate.
Earlier, Liz had been beyond simple healing, the delicate bones in her throat crushed from the pressure of Carreon’s hands. When her father finally convinced Zeke there was nothing he could do, that his love alone wouldn’t bring Liz back, he’d finally released her. Through his tears, Zeke watched Munez cradle his daughter’s face. He expected the older man to offer a farewell.
Instead, Munez poured his healing g
ift, his life force into her. With astonishing speed, the lividity drained from Liz’s face, her complexion returning to its rich olive coloring. She’d stirred as though awakening from a sound sleep, rather than having come back to life.
Carreon didn’t know the full extent of the healing gift. If he learned Liz and her father could reanimate the dead rather than merely healing the injured, he’d do whatever he could to imprison them both. This time, he’d make certain they brought back his lieutenants who were killed in battle with Zeke’s men.
The blood feud had already spanned thousands of years, all to gain power over each other’s gifts or to hold on to so-called sacred territory. Many on both sides claimed it was a tribute to or preparation for the return of their ancient ancestors. Beings who’d crossed deep space and had come to Earth millennia before.
While the Unknowns had bred with Liz’s Aztec ancestors, the Others had done the same with the Comanche clan from which Zeke had descended, leaving generations like him with the gift of prophecy.
Zeke grasped the steering wheel so hard his fingers hurt. He loathed his gift as much as Carreon coveted it. Until the bastard was beyond reanimation, he’d keep trying to capture and imprison Zeke so he could exploit the visions for his own ends.
If it took Zeke’s last breath, he’d find Carreon and would destroy him. There was simply no other—
Shit. The ashy light showed a sudden turn in the trail, interrupting his thoughts. As carefully as he could, Zeke veered to the right.
Liz’s hand slid off his thigh.
He jockeyed the vehicle past rocks and furrows, missing each. The ride was now relatively smooth, considering. It should have calmed him but didn’t. Why?
A quick check of the gauges told him the Jeep was operating properly. He scanned the moon-washed landscape, not seeing anyone coming their way. A good thing. Except something still wasn’t quite right.
What?
Her hand slid off my thigh.
Liz hadn’t taken it back. It had dropped away from him.
Uneasy at what that might mean, Zeke slowed the Jeep and glanced over. His next breath froze in his throat.
Liz’s chin rested on her chest. Her thick chestnut hair had swung forward, hiding her face. The ends shifted with the Jeep’s movements, as did her arms and legs. She looked asleep…unconscious.
Dead.
“Liz!” Zeke shouted.
He hit the brakes. The vehicle skidded over the loose terrain, then shimmied to a stop. Dirt swirled around it, driven by the tires and breeze. The moon’s sheer rays illuminated the area in front of them, murky with dust that blew from behind.
“What is it?” her father cried.
It’s okay. Dammit, it has to be. She must have hit her head on the door when the Jeep was bouncing, which knocked her out. That’s all it was. She couldn’t be—
Zeke pushed the awful thought away and turned in his seat. Before he could grab her and shake her back to consciousness, Munez clamped his hand on her shoulder.
Liz jerked as though an electric shock had shot through her body. She blinked rapidly and wore the same confused expression one would when fighting to pull out of a deep slumber. Turning from Zeke to her father and back, she asked, “What?”
She regarded the landscape—isolated and eerie—then frowned. “Why did you stop?”
Zeke grabbed her upper arm. “Did you fall asleep?”
“No.” Her frown said she found his question odd. “Why?”
“How do you feel now?” her father asked.
She brushed back her hair and noticed his hand on her shoulder. “Frightened.”
A wave of nausea rolled through Zeke. Had she gone to the other side again? Was it calling her back, refusing to loosen its grip on her? He squeezed her arm. “Why?”
Her eyebrows lifted at his obvious panic. “We’re not moving. We’re targets out here if Carreon’s men find us. We need to get going.” She gestured to the road.
Zeke made no move to go down it.
Bewilderment flooded her lovely features. She studied the vehicle’s gauges. “Is something wrong with the motor? Is it about to quit? Are we going to have to walk to your stronghold?”
Zeke tried to exchange a glance with her father, but the man kept his attention on her. If he was concerned about what just happened, it didn’t register on his aged face.
“We better get going,” Munez said.
Reluctantly, Zeke pulled away. This time, he drove more cautiously, which allowed him to sneak glimpses of Liz. Her complexion was lighter in the wan light, though not too pale. Certainly nowhere near the point where he’d question her well-being. If anything, her hazel eyes sparkled with life and health. Her sultry features—especially her pouty lower lip—were as inviting as the first time they’d been together.
They’d been in Carreon’s stronghold then. Three bullets to his chest had brought Zeke down with little chance of survival. Carreon ordered Liz to heal their enemy so he could harness and use Zeke’s ability to see the future.
Zeke had awakened in a large bed with Liz’s body draped over his, both of them nude, their mouths joined, her breath and life force pouring inside, healing him. She’d delivered him from the brink of death, from his desire to continue to the other side so he could reunite with Gabrielle, his daughter. She was only eight when Carreon’s lieutenants had murdered her. Zeke hadn’t wanted to be separated from his child again. He resented Liz’s efforts to heal him and fought against it, but her power had been too strong.
Her touch, warmth and weight too enticing.
Her violet fragrance, light and sweet, had mingled with her womanly musk, so feminine and sultry. He’d returned her kiss, savoring the unique flavor of her tongue, her seeming willingness to be with him. They’d necked hungrily, then with a surprising measure of tenderness. As though they were sweethearts committed to each other, not enemies brought together by Carreon’s desire for power. He’d once been Liz’s lover, duping her into wanting him and healing his men.
Carreon’s possession of her changed that night.
When Zeke had entered Liz, she became his alone. His body trembled at her cunt’s intense heat, its snug fit around his rigid cock. On one level, Zeke had known she used their mating to heal him. The deeper he went, the more of her healing gift and life force he drew inside.
On another level, he understood she’d wanted him, even then, as much as he soon desired her.
She had to be all right. There couldn’t be any other outcome. She must have fallen asleep a few seconds ago. After the battle between their people, her subsequent death and resurrection, she had every reason to be tired. Hell, who wouldn’t be?
At last, she looked at him. “You should keep your eyes on the road.”
“Are you tired?”
Genuine surprise flickered across her face. “No. Why? Do I look it?”
Zeke had rarely seen her more alert. More alive.
Unwilling to dwell on how long it might last or what had caused her previous spell—if that was all it was—he concentrated on his driving.
Munez settled back into his seat. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed Zeke the older man’s shock of white hair, his forehead and cheeks furrowed further by the play of moonlight and shadows. The doctor continued to watch his daughter. However, no concern showed on his features.
Zeke drove without thinking, knowing this area well. As much as he tried to stop it, he kept recalling how Liz’s body had flopped in her seat, no different from a rag doll or someone who no longer had control of their limbs.
Why?
More importantly, why hadn’t she recalled it? She hadn’t been a bit concerned or confused at what had happened. It was as though her mind remained sharp, continuing to register events, even as her body ceased to respond. Was that normal for someone with her blood and heritage? Was that why her father didn’t seem at all uneasy?
Zeke chanced another glimpse in his rearview mirror.
In that instant, the
noise from the Jeep’s chugging motor faded, along with Liz’s too quiet breathing that he’d strained to hear. He wasn’t able to detect rocks and other debris hitting the vehicle’s undercarriage, though he knew they must be, the noise mimicking the rat-a-tat-tat of faraway gunfire. The hissing he now heard was loud enough to be painful. He winced.
When he tried to focus on Munez’s snowy hair and weathered face in the mirror, the man’s image faded beneath a glare of white—an oncoming vision.
Within seconds, it was as though Zeke stood outside the Jeep, observing himself as he brought the vehicle to a slow halt. He watched Liz and her father turning to him, speaking words he couldn’t hear, their expressions surprised…worried.
He couldn’t answer. Too many pictures pulsed in his mind with the irritating speed of a strobe light.
He saw a woman’s hand, her skin color rich, familiar. Liz? Within her fist she held a slender onyx knife with a metal button on the side of its hilt. A switchblade? Blood dirtied its steel edge. Whose?
Carreon’s face materialized into the scene, similar to when a photograph develops. Pleasure hooded his pale blue eyes. His broad smile revealed his satisfaction. Had he killed someone else? Taken them prisoner?
Zeke blinked rapidly, needing to see more. Another man filled his vision, younger than Carreon, possibly late twenties. Dirt from the desert coated his denim jeans and jacket. Wind tugged at his dark hair, worn longish. Anticipation tightened his handsome features.
Wait! Zeke’s mind shouted.
Whorls of dust obscured the young man’s image before Zeke could study it. New pictures flashed in his mind, these at record speed. He saw the inside of the vehicle Liz had taken to Carreon’s stronghold, its dashboard illuminated though no one was inside. Next, he saw Carreon’s lieutenants, each in their early thirties, the same as him. Something wet shone dully on their black clothes. Blood? Their vehicle’s dashboard illuminated their faces, their features taut with fear and hate.
