by Tina Donahue
To make amends.
Her heart ached, but she ignored the pain. With all the will she owned, Kele forced herself to concentrate on the map and to answer Diaz. “I don’t know. Give me a sec.”
It took several minutes before she could actually focus her attention on the problem at hand. Once she had, Kele made changes in the route, updating the map. During the next hour, they discussed strategy. Various members of the clan popped in and out to retrieve items they’d forgotten when they’d left the meeting. Many of them lingered outside in the hall and conversed quietly, no doubt trying to catch what Kele and Diaz said.
They spoke little. He wrote all of their plans down for Zeke. The clan wouldn’t allow them to leave without his consent.
At length, Kele nibbled on a sandwich, hardly tasting the meat. Diaz finally gave in to his hunger and finished half of the food on the tray. He was on his second glass of milk when Ike hurried into the room. Earlier, he hadn’t been at the meeting, no doubt tending to other security matters instead.
He ignored Kele. Clearly—rightfully—he was still angry at how she’d used him to leave the stronghold the night of the battle. Addressing Diaz, he asked, “Where’s Zeke?”
Kele answered. “He left with Liz and Jacob.” The pang of sorrow returned, sharper than before. “They’re probably in Zeke’s bedroom.”
Diaz stood. “What happened?”
Backing away, Ike mumbled, “There’s something we need to show him.”
“What?” Kele asked, also on her feet.
Without answering, Ike ran from the room and bolted down the hall.
Chapter Eleven
Jacob had been the first to recover from the lovemaking. Days before, he would have gathered Liz into his arms and expected her to submit to him once more, which would have given Zeke no other choice except to challenge him. If he hadn’t, then Zeke’s other option would have been to watch his brother. To wait for Jacob to finish with Liz while he hungered for her again.
No longer.
A while ago, Jacob had been ready to take her, yet he deliberately waited to see what Zeke had in mind.
A lifetime of knowing Liz was what he required. Please work, Zeke’s thoughts had repeated endlessly as he hoped that he and his brother had returned some of Liz’s life force to her. If they hadn’t…
Zeke couldn’t think of it; the prospect was too daunting and hastened his arousal, his need to have still more of her.
The mattress had bounced as he’d left the bed. He offered Liz his hand.
Blinking slowly, still obviously fatigued from her numerous climaxes, she’d slipped her fingers over his. Her hand was delightfully warm, her breathing slow and steady. However, when her lids slid down, Zeke’s panic flared. He blurted, “Are you all right?”
Jacob pushed to a sitting position and looked down at her, clearly concerned.
“Yeah.” She yawned. “I’m savoring.”
Zeke wasn’t certain whether to groan, laugh or bitch up a storm at her for frightening him like that.
Jacob didn’t look convinced that she was all right. He leaned over her shoulder, his hair sliding down her arm. “You’re sure?”
“About what?” She looked at them both.
Her eyes were bright with health and life, alert now, her savoring apparently well past.
“Never mind.” Zeke squeezed her hand and led her from the bed to the bath. Jacob followed and touched several of the rocks.
In seconds, warm water filled the tub where it swished and swirled. More moisture misted from the limestone ceiling, directly above the receptacle, to create a gentle shower-like effect.
Liz put her palm beneath it. Pearls of water collected in her hand and dripped from her fingers.
Zeke kissed her shoulder. Jacob, her cheek. “Come on,” Zeke murmured, directing her into the tub. “We’ll give you a bath.”
She looked down at herself as though checking to see what they wanted to wash away. “Why?”
“Because we want to?” Jacob asked, joining them.
Zeke had to smile at his brother’s guileless, eager answer. The three of them being together in here would have seemed impossible days ago. It wasn’t something Zeke would have permitted, given his love for Liz.
His feelings for Jacob were as deep—the kind only brothers can have for each other—and no longer complicated. In Zeke’s mind, they’d never again be rivals for Liz. She belonged to him, always would. However, Jacob would also have a part in their lives. He no longer seemed to mind his secondary status. He seemed content with it, grateful.
Liz regarded Jacob’s erection. Water streamed from the ruddy crown. She actually licked her lips and answered his question with one of her own. “Know what I’d like to do?”
Zeke eased Liz’s damp hair from her neck and kissed it. “What?”
She took the soap, lathered her hands and sank to her knees.
Her breasts seemed to float on the bubbly water. She worked the scented lather over Jacob’s dark bush and Zeke’s, then down both of their rigid rods.
“Okay then,” Zeke breathed, having no objections to her intimate touch.
Jacob said something similar. After that, Zeke couldn’t focus on anything other than Liz’s hand caressing, fondling, squeezing his cock.
Damn.
She ran her thumb over the tiny opening in the head and stroked the bumpy skin on the back. Zeke gritted his teeth at the pleasure tearing through him. He pressed his toes into the stone to keep from tottering back and losing his balance.
As he heaved in air and attempted to regain some control, she concentrated on Jacob, no doubt working her magic on him.
My turn now, Zeke thought. Come back to me, touch—sweet Jesus.
She’d taken him into her mouth.
Zeke clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt. However, it did keep him from screaming his joy at the incredible sensations she’d generated. With his head hanging between his shoulders, he watched her lips moving up him, finally touching his dark curls. At the same time, she fondled Jacob’s balls.
His brother gasped, swallowed loudly, then gasped again.
Zeke’s shoulders bunched. He squeezed his fists at Liz licking and suckling his cock. She did it so well he was a breath away from climax.
She pushed him over the edge by cupping his balls and squeezing them gently.
He came on a choked cry, not certain his legs would hold him much longer. As he struggled to remain upright, Liz ministered to Jacob, cleansing his cock and balls thoroughly, then taking him in the same fashion.
Eventually, they’d washed her, making certain her openings were prepared for their further use. Jacob got to bathe her breasts. She’d pressed her face against his shoulder as Zeke washed her cunt, then her tight ring of flesh.
He’d returned to her soft folds and explored them and her clit so thoroughly Liz came yet again.
At last, they were back in bed, this time with Jacob taking Liz vaginally from behind. As she submitted to his carnal need, she’d licked and loved Zeke’s cock, his balls.
Their newest orgasms were as powerful as the first. They collapsed as they had earlier. After another brief rest, they finally stirred.
Zeke ran his fingers down Liz’s arm, unable to stop touching her, checking to see if she was all right. Jacob was no different. He stroked her hip. Glancing at each of them, she murmured, “Did it work?”
Zeke brushed his mouth over hers. Jacob eased her hair away and kissed her temple.
“Did what work?” Zeke whispered.
“Your plan to restore me…to return what I’d given to both of you.”
Zeke exchanged a glance with Jacob. His brother looked as though he hadn’t a clue what to say and was going to leave that up to him.
Suppressing a sigh, Zeke regarded Liz. Contentment registered on her features, her color was rich, her breathing relaxed not exhausted. She looked about as hearty as a person could. For how long? He didn’t want to think about it.
“I can’t be sure,” he said. “We’ll have to keep doing this until I’m certain.”
“That’s right,” Jacob said, cupping her breast.
Amusement and skepticism played across her face. “When do you think that might be?”
The memory of her slumped over in the Jeep returned to plague Zeke. “I don’t know. Let me take this slow, all right?”
“But what if—”
“Shhh.” He rested his forefinger against her lips. “Relax. Go back to sleep.”
Liz wrapped her hand around his finger and pulled it away gently. “And then what?”
“More of this,” Jacob answered. He snuggled his face against her neck and kissed it.
She sighed happily.
Zeke watched for a moment and then surrendered to weariness, thankful for it. He wanted only to sleep for a little while longer. To forget the bad that always seemed to be awaiting them.
He breathed deeply and held it, forgetting to release the air. His vision was that quick and ruthless. His body stiffened at the image his mind revealed.
That same female hand wrapped around a knife, the blade wet with blood.
Whose?
He tried to see details, but couldn’t. A silk scarf had floated into the scene, its fabric black. The same as the nails on that woman’s—
No.
The scarf was around a female’s throat. The woman with the knife? A man’s hands tugged on the ends, using it as a garrote to strangle her. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream. She’d already clawed the man’s hands in an attempt to get him to stop. He tightened his grip.
Zeke struggled to see more.
His vision showed only her mouth and throat, her futile struggle to survive. Her skin turned the same shade as a bruise while her thickened tongue pushed out between her lips.
Falling. Zeke watched her body drop to the floor, the movement so fast she was no more than a blur, her individual characteristics unidentifiable. Without warning, the scene changed, morphing from her into Carreon’s face.
He regarded the strangled woman, his light eyes empty of sorrow or regret. His mouth formed one word over and over…
Liz, Liz, Liz.
She backed away from Zeke in his vision. Grief flooded her features. Tears dampened her cheeks. Why? He reached out to her, but she was too far away to touch, Carreon suddenly at her side. He’d clamped his hand on her arm so she couldn’t move, couldn’t leave him.
Liz!
Zeke’s thoughts screamed for her. He lunged at Carreon, needing to kill him. The bastard disappeared with Liz, leaving Zeke alone with another horror. He gaped at a woman’s legs sprawled on a carpet. She wore jeans that looked all too familiar. The ones Liz wore?
No, no, no, no, no—
The moccasin on her left foot was partially off, still hiding her toes. The area beneath her legs was damp. With what?
Zeke flinched at a burst of light, the whoosh that accompanied it. Fire? Yes. The flames licked the moccasin, the foot. Where? How? Not Liz. Couldn’t be—
“Zeke?”
Liz’s voice, her touch, wrenched him from the vision. Shuddering at what he’d seen, afraid to know what it meant, he pulled her close.
She held him as tightly. “What is it?”
Zeke looked at his brother. Worry pinched Jacob’s features. He pushed to his elbows. “Another vision?”
Zeke managed a swallow and nodded.
Liz eased back so they’d be face to face. “What did you see?”
“I don’t know,” he blurted, then growled, “I don’t fucking know.”
“Tell us,” Jacob said. “Maybe we can figure it out.”
“How?” Zeke tensed even more. “This so-called gift is a goddamn curse. How am I supposed to make sense of what I see?”
“Just tell us,” Jacob repeated, “and maybe we can—”
“I saw a woman’s hand holding a knife with blood on the blade. I have no idea whose blood it was. Then a man was using a scarf to strangle a woman. I don’t know who they are; I couldn’t see their faces. As Carreon watched, he kept repeating ‘Liz, Liz, Liz’.
“You were backing away from me,” Zeke said to her, speaking even faster. “Your cheeks were wet as though you’d been crying. Carreon wouldn’t let you go. Then I saw fire.”
Jacob frowned. “What kind of a fire?”
“The kind that destroys a body,” Zeke said. “I saw a woman’s legs. The flames touched her foot. She didn’t move.”
Jacob’s face lost too much color. He glanced at Liz. “Where did this happen—where’s it supposed to happen?”
“I don’t know,” Zeke said through his teeth.
Liz touched his arm. “Did you recognize anything in your vision from this stronghold?”
He thought back as well as he could and shook his head.
“From Carreon’s estate?” she prodded.
“I have no idea. The images flash by so quickly, I can’t concentrate on details.”
“Were the woman’s legs mine?”
“No.” He pulled her back into his arms, his breathing ragged with worry. “You’re not leaving here. You’re never leaving my side. I won’t allow—”
The pounding on the door stopped him.
“Zeke,” Ike called out. “Are you in there?”
“Oh shit, what now?” Jacob muttered.
“Yeah,” Zeke shouted to Ike. “Give me a minute.” He left the bed and pulled on his jeans. Jacob did the same. Once Liz was decent, Zeke opened the door.
Ike shifted from foot to foot, clearly agitated.
“What’s happened?” Zeke asked.
“We’re getting a transmission from Carreon.”
“What?” Liz blurted. “How could he send a transmission here? He doesn’t know where this place is.”
“He had someone hack into our systems,” Zeke said, then spoke to Ike. “Has he breached anything else?”
“No. He can only transmit to us. The rest of our systems are secure.”
Zeke touched Liz’s arm. “Stay here while Jacob and I—”
“I want to go with you. Please. I have a right to know what’s happening.”
“Dammit, I don’t want you to.”
“I know that.” She spoke far more softly than he had. “But how can I protect myself or my father if neither of us knows what’s going on? If something happens to you or Jacob am I supposed to simply guess what’s coming?”
“Nothing’s going to happen to any of us,” he argued. “You don’t have to protect me or Jacob. We’re supposed to do that for you.”
“Zeke, please, don’t do this to me.” She rested her fingertips on his cheek. “I need to be there. You need that too. I’m the only one who’s been with Carreon. I know what makes him tick. Whatever he says, I’ll be able to tell whether he’s lying or not.”
“She has a point,” Jacob said. “She should be there with us.”
“She has to,” Ike finally broke in. “Carreon insisted on it.”
Zeke frowned. “Why?”
Ike ran his hand over his mouth, then took a deep breath before continuing, “He’s threatening to murder a woman unless you and Liz meet with him.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Zeke held back an oath. They followed Ike to the meeting room. On the table was a large monitor that hadn’t been there before. Kele and Diaz sat to the side of it, interrupted in their strategy to get Pedro. Next to them were Paul and the clan’s other young men who excelled in information technology. Their monitors showed what was on the larger screen. Both Kele and Diaz watched the transmission, their expressions troubled.
Zeke moved in front of the largest monitor and the camera that would transmit his image.
Carreon’s face filled the screen. His lobe was swollen and red from Liz having yanked off his earring, his throat and neck scored by her nails, his light eyes frosty with contempt. “Where’s Liz?”
She joined Zeke, standing next to him.
Carreon smiled.<
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Zeke took Liz’s hand. Her fingers were icy and shook slightly.
“I’ll make this brief,” Carreon said, then spoke to Liz. “You and your father are coming back to our clan. Where you belong.”
“Never,” Zeke said.
“Never?” Carreon mimicked, his smile deadly. “Don’t be so certain of that.” Again, he addressed Liz. “Do you want to see anyone die because of you?”
Zeke squeezed her fingers, a warning not to answer or play into Carreon’s sick game. “This transmission is over,” Zeke announced.
“Very well,” Carreon said. “If that’s the way you want it and you refuse to bargain, this is what’s going to happen.” He moved to the side, out of view.
Zeke put his hand up to keep his people from shutting down the transmission.
The camera showed a well-appointed office that could have been in a thousand places. In front of the desk was a brawny young man Zeke had never seen before. However, the black scarf in his hands was the same one from Zeke’s vision. The man had wrapped it around a woman’s throat. Zeke’s breathing picked up. He recognized the scene and her mouth. In minutes, her tongue would protrude from her lips.
The camera’s angle showed her from the waist up. Her breasts were bare, her eyes rolling into the back of her head from lack of oxygen.
“No!” Liz shouted.
“Liz, Liz, Liz,” Carreon crooned out of camera range. “You want this to stop?”
Zeke squeezed Liz’s hand again so she wouldn’t answer. The woman made gagging noises. Her face turned a dark red, but she didn’t fight. She seemed incapable of doing so, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
Zeke whispered to Liz, “It’s a trick.”
“No, it’s real,” she breathed.
“If it was, she’d be fighting.” Zeke recalled the scratches on the man’s hands in his vision. He looked for them now.
“Carreon must have drugged her,” Liz moaned.
