by Jodi Henley
The answer burned in his eyes like wildfire, the bait Kate had used to turn him.
“But...you wanted to be, didn’t you?” Jen’s eyes narrowed. “You wanted to be one of us.”
Kimo shoved her back, not so nice now, lips curled back over bared teeth. “Who doesn’t want to be a Stalling? You have more money than God and live like goddamned royalty. I spent years as Mac’s shadow, trailing his dumbass around while he tried to be a doctor. Like saving people could somehow make up for killing them.”
He pinned her back against the side of the truck, rubbing his crotch up between her thighs. She could feel the bulbous head of his cock trying to get at her through the thin cotton of his shorts.
He caught her chin in two fingers, and grinned down into her eyes, lips moist. “Saving people is fucking lame. Money is where it’s at, Guinevere, and you all have more than your fair share. What about me? I need it too.”
Fear banded her chest. “Get off me!”
“Do you know what your brother does for Security? What they all do?” His hand slipped down her throat and closed around her neck, choking her into submission. “Do you?”
He released her throat and she sucked in a ragged breath. “You’re as crazy as she is.”
“C’mon, Jen...you know you like it.” He leaned in close and planted his mouth on hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth. “Tim told me you like pain.”
Wendell slapped him on the back. “Man, you are whacked. You can dick Andora all you want, but lay off Jen, yeah? She's family.” He peeled Kimo off and brushed at Jen, carefully straightening out her dress. “Man, Auntie is going to be pissed he’s fucking with you.”
Jen gagged hard enough to wrench her belly. “Oh God,” she whispered when she had herself under control again.
“Kate could care less,” said Kimo. “She’s going to throw them down the vent. Might as well have a little fun. Deal? You go first.”
“No.” Wendell was very firm and more than a little pale. “That’s fucking sick. Jen’s my cousin.”
“It’s like chicken, man. The closer the bone, the sweeter the meat.”
“Auntie is calling you. You’d better go.”
“Very convenient,” said Kimo, nodding like he half-suspected Wendell had set the whole thing up to get Jen to himself. “I’ll be back, chicken-boy. Don’t start without me.”
“That’s fucking wrong,” said Wendell.
Jen hung in Wendell’s grip, still queasy. “I can’t believe he sold Makena out.”
Wendell was very earnest. “He’s one of us, Jen. We all work together.”
“Makena tried to save me. He only took me to Kimo because he thought it would be safe.”
“Kimo is only out for Kimo. I can’t believe Auntie lets him hang around.”
Kate appeared, sweeping around the truck with Kimo behind her, smirking and bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Wendell, I need your help. Kimo will take care of the women.”
Kimo gave them a big grin from the safety of Kate’s shadow and Wendell sagged, still a kid. There was no way he was going against Kate.
He tried anyway, “But Auntie....”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, dear.”
Wendell threw Kimo a look that promised bodily pain if he came back to find Jen hurt.
“Yes, go with Auntie,” said Kimo, shoving him out of the way. “I’ll take care of little Jenny-poo.”
He adjusted his pants and gave himself a little squeeze.
Kimo hooked a foot through the duct tape and pulled. Jen fell down on her knees hard enough to break the skin. “Why don't we go over behind the truck, sweet tits? This requires privacy.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Here, man. Take one.” Fallon threw a bag of hard candy on the seat divider.
It rolled down in the holders and wedged under the handful of bargain outlet brochures he’d found somewhere along the way. His sister had a thing for souvenirs, and so far the closest thing he’d found was a keepsake cup from the Volcano Smoothie Shack. Not that Maggie Ann wanted a cheap plastic cup sharpie’d with “Blueberry Smoothie XXL”.
He’d wanted something jacked with extra caffeine, but seeing how Corlis was the only one capable of driving and she’d wanted a smoothie, the rest of them were stuck with instant health in a cup.
Keegan eyed the candy and took two, popping them in his mouth in an effort to kill the lethal combination of vomit-breath and rainbow fruit with ginseng. Keegan was older than both of them, but he was too damned nice to tell his sister where to shove her ginseng drink.
Fallon rolled over, stomach sloshing. Yogurt was bad enough.
It was cold in the car, and they’d been sitting behind this dumpster for over an hour waiting for Jen’s cousin, Makena, to come out of his hole. Like a car and three strangers, two with blond hair, didn’t stick out like a sore thumb in this pullover that had the nerve to call itself a town.
Keegan adjusted his binoculars and waited, patient like his sister wasn’t. Corlis sat hunched behind the driver’s seat, tapping her fingers on the wheel, eyes hidden behind a pair of shades so dark, looking into her eyes was like checking out a black hole.
Fallon scratched at his puncture wounds.
Corlis said Jen’s cousin was an asshole and let it go at that, but Fallon’s theory was that the other man had been raised to some vestige of chivalry and hadn’t been able to shoot a woman. His last memory was of Makena staring at him from over her limp body, a white cotton pad in one hand and a gun in the other. And speak of the devil; there he was, running out of the house across the street like his ass was on fire. He slammed into his car and took off, gravel flying from under his tires.
Fallon propped the tablet on his belly. “Hang back, he’s seen this car, and we need some kind of screen.”
Corlis nodded, merging into traffic with the kind of smooth acceleration he’d always envied. “What do you think he’s after?” she asked.
“Not what,” said Keegan, “who.”
He took the tablet from Fallon and switched it off. “I’m willing to bet he has a line on Kuipo, because he’s headed for the Pele Project.”
****
Jen fell through the temple entrance and stumbled out on the red cinder path, blinking furiously. The courtyard was a wasteland of chalky coral and blinding sunlight, centered by a tall, carefully squared platform and a long utility table lined with bright yellow water coolers, apparently abandoned by the restoration crew.
Kimo kicked the back of her knees and she fell. “Damn, Jen. Clumsy, yeah? Try watch where you’re going.”
Jen rolled to her knees, legs shaking. A black and red bird the size of her palm watched her from high on a stack of offerings and flew over the wall to freedom. Her own offering of chocolate-dipped ohelo berries rotted at the end of the line. Good whiskey, slinky red gowns and white holuku sat in front of older offerings of shells and rocks. Despite ongoing restoration efforts and tourists, they were untouched. There was too much history here, centuries of belief condensed down to a row of gifts desiccated by the passage of time.
Kimo grabbed her breast, fingers brutally tight as he worked her nipple. “Eager for seconds? Come on, get up there.”
Andora moaned from behind them, and they stepped aside while her guards carried her up the shallow stairs. Jen shuddered. One more accident like the one Andora had suffered rolling out of the truck would kill her.
Kimo leaned in and whispered, “Boo!”
Jen almost jumped out of her skin. “Stop that!”
He laughed. “Go on then, see if I help you.”
Jen kept moving to where her aunt waited with Wendell. A dust devil blew to life and jumped the platform, spraying them with grit. Low volume noise thumped from the production wells on the plain below, and all around them lava stretched into the distance, a blur of amber and sear-black.
Kate waved. “Hurry along, Kimo. This needs to be done now.”
The sense of something vast and unseen pushed d
own on the back of Jen’s neck. The temple platform was really two platforms, split down the middle by a jagged chasm. Steam billowed out of the crevice in sulfur-yellow wisps and curled underfoot. It didn’t take much imagination to see divine intervention in the hillocks and escarpments that rose around the heiau like cupped hands. Earlier lava flows had gone around the sprawling complex instead of over it, like someone had put up a barricade.
“Aunt Kate?” Wendell started for the far end of the platform where Kate stood surrounded by her own personal security, checking things off on a clipboard. “What do you want to do with Andora?”
Kimo inched up behind Jen and brushed her hair back, laughing softly. “See that wall, Jenny-poo? Want to know what’s on the other side?”
Jen shook her head and didn’t move, refusing to be drawn into his game. He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her after him.
“Happy to be your tour guide,” Kimo said. “I spend a lot of time here. Fixing stuff, doing things, you know...making Kate happy. Lots of people don’t get any farther than the offering pile. Bet you’re one of them, huh?”
A gust of hot air pushed the dress up around her hips. For the first time since her kidnapping, Jen felt warm. A shallow retaining wall marked the boundaries of the chasm, and a big yellow plaque did double duty as both a historical marker and warning sign. Kimo positioned her against it, bunched her bra and neckline down under her still aching breasts and took a quick picture with his phone.
Jen glared at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“You have no idea,” said Kimo. He folded the phone away like it held something precious, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a couple of quick drags before he jerked her dress back into place. “And they say revenge is cold, man—I’ve got the warm-fuzzies all over. Kate is my dream boss.”
He reached down to fondle his cock. “Go on, look over the side. I’ll wait. I’ll even be nice and leave you alone. Just so you don’t get the idea I’ll try something, okay?”
The sign read danger in seven languages, and had a stick figure leaning over the wall circled by the international sign for no. At first sight, the chasm looked like little more than a long, roughly shaped pit carved into the bedrock under the temple. Mineralized ledges circled it like upside down scaffolding. Nothing scary about it at all. Jen wobbled another mini-step and froze.
Kimo sent his voice after her like a shove. “Go ahead, Jen. Look down. You know you want to.” Want to....
Scarlet heaved in the depths, a suggestion of movement. The floor of the pit was a crust of floating lava. She stood on the edge of an active pond without any protective gear or knowledge of the terrain. The heat was incredible. She was a scientist. She knew exactly how long it would take her to burn to death if she didn’t die of suffocation first.
How had they missed it? Judging by the condition of the platform, the pond was a long-standing anomaly. Jen held on to the wall with both hands, jerking at the tape swaddling her until it felt like wire. The surface of the pit was so far down, she felt dizzy. The fumes were thick and choking. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—she opened her mouth to scream and Kimo jerked her back, roughly shoving her head down between her knees.
“Don’t faint, Guinevere, you’ll miss the show.”
“I-It’s active,” she whispered, huddling in on herself.
“Well, duh—give the woman a cookie. Yes, Dr. Stalling. It is active. And guess who gets to be the Human Torch? Except I don’t think you’ll be channeling Johnny Storm.”
Fear was a stench in her own nostrils, overlaid with the smell of sulfur. “She can’t think my death will do anything.”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Kimo shrugged and dropped down beside her, scratching at his balls. “I honestly don’t know. Don’t care either.”
Fear ebbed and anger took its place. “Keegan will kill you.”
Kimo got up and looked around. “Being as I don’t see your bodyguard here, the idea doesn’t scare me. How about you, Jen? Are you scared yet?”
“You’ve betrayed me. You’ve betrayed Mac. And you think I want to talk to you?” Jen rolled over, snapping at Kimo with her teeth.
Kimo pushed her back one-handed. “Yeah, that makes me weak. You snapping at me like a turtle.” He took a drag on his cigarette and flipped it over the wall. “How about we just sit here until your aunt gets back?”
“How about you die?”
Magma hissed behind her, chattering low and metallic.
“Yawn,” said Kimo. “How about you die? See how far you get with your aunt’s security all over the place. Go ahead.” He dropped his arm. “Just give me a second to get my phone out, ‘cause I want another picture.”
Wendell clattered up beside them and pulled Jen to her feet. “You okay?” He gave her a worried look. He carried Andora over one shoulder and put her down carefully. “Man, she’s in bad shape. Put your feet down, and try not to move, yeah?” He eased her against the sign and half-turned, squinting into the distance. “Kimo, check it out. Someone coming.”
Kimo pulled a small pair of binoculars from his hoodie. “It’s Makena. I thought we’d have more time.”
Aunt Kate left her security to join them, arms lifted in challenge. “Let him come. We are the Righteous, we cannot be stopped!”
Everyone had their backs to Jen except for Andora who was no help to anyone. Jen gnawed at the tape around her bicep as the sound of Makena’s Land Rover grew louder. She caught an end with her teeth and worked it into her mouth, jerking hard enough to lift the thin plastic from the rest of the tape. It should have come off, but instead it pulled painfully tight, making her entire arm throb in time to her rapidly escalating heartbeat.
Andora slid down the sign and sprawled in a boneless heap, head back. Dead? Not yet.
Footsteps crunched through the parking lot, across the courtyard and up the stairs. The first thing Jen saw was black hair, then Makena's face. His eyes met hers and he stopped just short of the platform, halfway up the stairs. He was still wearing the same EMT shirt she’d last seen him in. The yellow fabric was stained with sweat and the word volunteer stood out in six inch letters black letters.
“Jen,” he mouthed, after all her doubts and fears, still on her side.
She pointed to Andora but he shook his head. He couldn’t see her from where he stood, and Jen didn’t want to risk drawing Kate’s attention.
“Mom!” he called. “Jen is blood. Give her to me, no one has to know.”
“The time for cover-ups is past! Traitor! Do you need a miracle? I’ll give you blood!” Kate swept a hand out and pointed to Andora. “Wendell? Throw the woman in!”
Makena went dead white under his heavy tan and charged to the top of the stairs. “Andora? No!” He shoved through his mother’s entourage and tackled Wendell. “Let her go!”
Wendell staggered. “Mac, look man. You gotta believe me. I wasn’t gonna kill her—”
Makena grabbed him. “Bastard!” he roared. “You were going to roast her alive.” He spun, throwing Wendell off the platform.
Wendell landed at the foot of the stairs, screaming in pain.
“Behind you!” cried Jen.
“Mother?”
Kate fluffed her curls. “She’s too far gone, dear. You can’t save her, and I’m not pleased. You injured Wendell, and he’s…useful to me.”
“You corrupted a kid,” said Makena. “I’m not fucking pleased with you.”
He turned his back on her and dropped to his knees at Andora’s side. “God! Andora? Mom, call for help."
“No,” said Kate. “Her death may yet serve the greater good. Throw her in, dear.”
Makena stood and faced his mother, shaking his head. “It ends here, Mom. Put the gun down.”
“We shall not wait any longer while the destroyers rape Her body. Vengeance and destruction are Her holy creed. They shall burn!”
Retribution glowed in Makena’s hell-dark eyes. “It’s not too late. I can spin
damage control, but you have to stop.”
Jen felt sick. How could Mac even think about covering up this up?
Kate sniffed delicately and brushed at her eyes with one sapphire silk sleeve. Dark stains spotted the delicate fabric. She was crying, not for herself. For—“Aunt Kate, no!”
“Jeez, give it a rest already.” Kimo swung an arm out and shoved Jen back.
Jen stumbled over backward and fell, precariously balanced on the shallow retaining wall. Her hair tore free, whipping up around her head in the hot, sulfur wind. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down on her screams, terrified out of her skull. Without her arms she didn't stand a chance.
Makena locked both arms around her hips. “Hold on!”
“I'm too far out! Let me go. I don't want you to die, too.”
“Stop talking,” he pulled, unable to drag her back over the wall, “shit. Nobody's going to die here.”
Makena shifted and braced one knee against the wall. “Kimo—help me!”
Jen couldn't see Kimo, but she could hear him inching closer to Mac, muttering under his breath, self-interest fighting what Jen abruptly realized was genuine friendship.
“Fuck it,” he said, finally dropping down to one knee. “I'll hold her ankles. See if—“
“No,” said Kate. “You won't. Get out of the way, Kimo.”
Kate stepped to where Jen could see the glitter of her gown over Makena’s shoulder and touched her gun to him, almost gently. Blood exploded from his chest.
“Makena!” Jen twisted, trying to tear the duct tape off her arms through sheer force of will. “Makena!”
“Makena?” Kate tipped her head to the side, her eyes very wide. Her mouth opened and closed, and abruptly stretched wide as she screamed, “You took my son from me! This whole thing, this mess,” her mouth twisted, “is your fault, Guinevere!”
A shot rang out and her hand jerked. The gun spun away and skittered across the platform. Kate went ballistic, lurching toward Corlis's rapidly approaching figure with both hands out, fingers crooked in bloody claws. “You dare!”
