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Beyond Fearless

Page 19

by Rebecca York


  He’d seen she was asleep. He’d decided to see if he could join her in the dream. He remembered the beach, and a man and a woman on the Odysseus. And then…

  Anna had followed his thoughts. “The tsunami caught us,” she supplied.

  “Jesus!” The end of the dream flashed into his mind, and he made a strangled sound. “He tried to kill me. Every time I almost made it to the surface, he came up with something else.”

  “He washed me up onto dry ground. Into the house,” Anna said, as she curved her hand around his shoulder. “I saw you go under. I was so scared.”

  “He dragged me down and held me under.”

  She gasped. “Was he really there?”

  He made a gagging sound. “Just his hand. But I gave myself a knife, and I cut him.”

  “Good.”

  “He had control of the flood. He sent a log slamming into my head.” As he spoke, he pulled her down so that she was lying half on top of him.

  “He was trying to keep me asleep,” she whispered. “I fought him. I woke myself up. It seemed to take forever. But when I finally did, we were both lying on the couch. Only you were pale as death. Your skin was clammy, and you wouldn’t wake up when I shook you.”

  He grimaced. “Was I breathing?”

  “Barely.”

  He pointed toward the ceiling. “I was up there. Well, not in this room. Somewhere up there in the darkness. I mean my consciousness. I heard you yelling at me, trying to wake me up.”

  “I was shaking you.”

  “But I couldn’t feel it.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “When the shaking didn’t work, you slapped me, right?”

  She took her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You did the right thing. You finally got my attention.” He stroked his fingers over her shoulder and down her back, comforted by the contact with her soft skin.

  “I thought you were going to die,” she whispered.

  “I thought I was dead. I’m sure I would have been—if you hadn’t brought me back. How long was I out?” he asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure. It felt like hours. It was probably only a few minutes.” Her hold on his arm tightened. “Does he know where we are?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. But we have to be on our guard.”

  She winced.

  He hugged her to him, wanting to make love to her, but wondering if they were safe from the San Donato guy. He was getting stronger, more able to invade their minds when they were closely bonded.

  She caught his thoughts and eased away. They both stood up, and he saw that neither of them was quite steady on their feet.

  “We found out something good,” she murmured. “I was right about…Lindsay and Jordan wanting to help us.”

  “Yeah. If they can.”

  He pulled on his shorts and shirt, then walked outside to the edge of the patio, momentarily astonished that the landscape hadn’t been flattened by a giant wave. That had only been a dream, he reminded himself.

  Something else struck him. In the dim light of evening he hadn’t noticed that whoever had lived here had planted a virtual forest of fruit trees. Not just one variety but a whole bunch of them.

  Well, that certainly increased their range of food options.

  After looking at the trees, he walked down to the beach, unable to face the water without cringing. But again he reminded himself that the dream had not been real.

  Still, he didn’t know how much power San Donato had to reach into their real lives.

  If the bastard found them in a dream, could he find them in reality?

  Zach shaded his eyes, scanning the sea. No boats. Which meant this place probably wasn’t on anybody’s regular shipping or recreational route.

  They’d have to worry about that later. Right now, they needed to eat.

  Returning to the vicinity of the house, he picked some ripe bananas off a bunch, then pulled off his shirt and used it to hold avocados, figs, plums, mangos, and breadfruit. At least they had some variety. With protein bars added it would be nourishing.

  When he came in, he found Anna had opened two bottles of water.

  Deliberately not touching her, he asked, What are you thinking?

  She caught the question and answered immediately. That we have to get out of here before something else happens.

  I agree.

  And get away from Grand Fernandino.

  They carried the food out to the patio, where they sat on another tablecloth, eating and sipping the water.

  Zach picked up a plum. “All this fruit may have a bad effect on our…uh…digestion.”

  “The banana will help with that.” She looked out toward the jungle. “Maybe you can find a bird’s nest and get us some eggs.”

  “How about snake eggs?”

  She winced.

  While he ate some avocado, he thought about what they should do.

  She picked up a banana, then started to move so that her shoulder would be touching his.

  Don’t touch me.

  Okay.

  I want to practice talking in our minds without physical contact.

  She hitched in a breath and let it out, and he knew she was probing his thoughts. You think there’s not much chance of boats passing this way.

  I don’t know how long we can hang around here. I thought it was safe, but not if he can come here so easily.

  She nodded. You think…Lindsay and Jordan can find us? she asked suddenly.

  I wish.

  They did it in the dream.

  But it might be harder in reality.

  She answered with a tight nod.

  He reached out and squeezed her hand, then broke the physical contact.

  We’re doing good!

  She grinned at him. Yes.

  I think our best bet is making a mental distress call. And at the same time, building a signal fire on the beach. That will make it look like we’re ordinary stranded shipwreck survivors.

  The idea had leaped into his head. And for a moment he wondered where it had come from. But he decided it was a logical approach.

  Which leads to the point that we need a cover story.

  Like what?

  He thought for a minute. Something that can’t easily be checked on Grand Fernandino.

  Like maybe we came in from Jamaica and ran into a storm. Our boat sank, and we managed to swim here. We could say we’ve been stranded for almost a week.

  What’s the name of the boat?

  Hm. Maybe—the Penelope?

  A nice touch.

  And we’d both act like we don’t know much about boats—or navigation.

  She laughed. It wouldn’t be much of an act for me.

  She moved then, stroking her fingers against his arm, and he felt an instant spark of arousal.

  Do we have to be turned on to put out a distress call?

  Good question. If so, that’s a little inconvenient.

  Maybe it’s a bonus?

  He turned his head and rubbed his lips against hers, and they were instantly both caught up in the power of the sexual pull that hadn’t let go of them since their first meeting.

  Hmm. While we’re in this state, maybe we should try out another skill.

  Like what?

  I’ve been thinking about the talents that people with psychic abilities possess. Do you think we can affect the weather?

  She looked at him doubtfully. I never tried.

  Well, let’s try now. He stood up and scanned the sky, seeing some dark clouds in the distance. Let’s pull them over and see if we can make it rain.

  I thought you wanted to build a fire on the beach. We’ll get the wood wet.

  Umm…right. He shook his head, wondering what he’d been thinking. We can call a storm, but no rain.

  They spent the next half hour bringing dry wood from the jungle and piling it on the beach.

  Then they stood close together.

  You be in charge,
Anna murmured inside his head as she reached to knit her fingers with his.

  Okay.

  He looked at the clouds, imagined them turning dark and drifting closer.

  He could feel Anna adding her power to his, but it seemed like nothing was happening.

  Start smaller, she suggested. As she spoke inside his head, he could feel her shifting her focus. After a few moments, the wind began to blow. She built on that success, making the trees around them sway. And as the wind picked up, she used it to drag clouds closer to the island.

  How are you doing that? he asked.

  I don’t know.

  Even if she didn’t understand the process, it was clear that she could use it. Soon the sky was dark. Trees thrashed in the jungle.

  They kept their focus on the storm for several minutes.

  I’m getting tired, Anna finally said.

  Yeah.

  Almost as soon as they stopped focusing on the weather, the clouds drifted away and the sun came out again.

  “I’d give us a C plus,” Anna murmured.

  “Well, that’s not bad for a first try.”

  “We could see if we can strengthen our abilities in that area.” She slid him a seductive look. “Or you could decide to reward me for the effort.”

  The suggestion was tempting, but he felt like they were running out of time. And he wasn’t even sure what that meant.

  Hold the thoughts. We’ll have a hot and heavy celebration when we get off the island.

  You’re going to make me wait? As she spoke, she turned her head and nibbled on his earlobe, then sucked it into her mouth and ran her tongue along the edge.

  He let himself enjoy the sensation for a moment, then said, Business first. Pleasure later.

  When he’d gotten a fire going, he said, We should call a boat to us.

  They stood with their shoulders together, staring out to sea as they sent their thoughts outward.

  He gave her a quick look. He knew they were following his suggestion, but now that he was trying to do it, he felt pretty strange.

  Help us. Our boat sank, and we’re stranded on this island. Help us. Somebody help us.

  It was like sending a broadcast into outer space, trying to bring an alien spaceship to earth. As they stood there on the beach, it felt like nobody could hear them. And if they did, they wouldn’t respond.

  I think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew.

  Don’t give up so fast, Anna murmured in his brain as her hand tightened on his.

  Maybe it was a dumb idea.

  You want to try and make a raft out of the dining room table?

  Not unless we get a whole lot more desperate.

  Well, I don’t have a better suggestion. So let’s stick with it. For a while, at least.

  ANNA glanced at the fire. It had been burning for a while, and if they wanted to keep it going, they would need more fuel soon. She looked toward the dock.

  “It may be leaning to the side, but it’s probably hard to pry the boards loose,” Zach muttered.

  “I’m going for more wood.”

  She was about to walk into the jungle when something tingled at the edge of her mind, and she stopped short, then shaded her eyes and looked out to sea.

  All she saw was a line of five pelicans heading from east to west.

  “Wait,” Zach advised.

  She waited, staring as far into the distance as she could manage. After a few minutes, she saw a lighter speck in the blue water.

  “A boat?”

  “I think so,” Zach answered.

  They hadn’t spoken about it, but both of them had apparently decided to keep the conversation aloud now that someone was coming.

  She waited, her breath shallow as the boat grew bigger. “What is it?”

  He stared at the boat as it plowed toward them. “A cabin cruiser. Maybe for fishing charters. Or just for motoring around.”

  “Okay.”

  She wanted to send her mind toward the boat, but she didn’t want the crew to think she was probing them.

  Did that make any sense? She didn’t know. But when the impulse to run leaped into her mind, she gave Zach a quick glance.

  “Who are they?” she whispered,

  “I wish to hell I knew,” he answered, clasping her hand more tightly.

  The boat was close enough that she could see a couple of men on board. Two dark-skinned guys who were probably islanders crewing the craft. The other occupant looked like a tourist who’d interrupted a fishing trip when he’d heard their distress call.

  They were all wearing shorts and knit shirts. And as far as Anna could see, they had no weapons.

  She relaxed a fraction, but she still wasn’t totally comfortable with the situation.

  The tourist guy cupped his hands around his mouth. “I saw the smoke from your fire and came to investigate. Are you in trouble over there?” he called out.

  “Glad you saw the signal,” Zach shouted. “We’re stranded, and we’d appreciate a ride back to civilization.”

  “I’ll come get you.”

  After he used a winch to lower a small motorboat into the water, he and one of the crewmen climbed in and headed for the shore.

  “Lucky I was fishing in the area.”

  When the bow touched the sand, he stopped, with the stern still in the water. He and the other man waded through the shallow water to the beach.

  The tourist looked toward the house. “This is the De-Beck place.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I was a guest here, before the storm damage. I guess if you have to be stranded somewhere, this is a better place than most.”

  Anna nodded.

  “Come over here. Let me show you something you might have missed.” He was speaking to Zach, who hesitated, then followed him a few feet away.

  She watched the crewman follow them, then come up quickly behind Zach.

  In that moment, she knew something was wrong.

  Zach, she cried out in her mind, desperately trying to send him a warning.

  He must have heard her, because he dodged to the side just as the crewman brought his hand down in a chopping motion.

  It missed Zach’s neck but connected with his shoulder in a loud thump.

  Zach staggered, then regained his footing, going into a fighting crouch. But it was already too late for him to come out on top in the fight.

  The man playing the tourist was already behind Zach, ready to coldcock him.

  He brought something down on the back of Zach’s head, and Zach made a sharp exclamation and crumpled to the ground, where he lay in the sand without moving.

  “Zach,” she screamed as she tried to rush forward. But the tourist stepped in her way and caught her by the shoulders.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  FOR A MOMENT, Anna was incapable of organized thought. On a scream of rage, she flailed at him—then tried to lash out with her mind. When the man ignored the mental jab, she tried something else.

  Don’t kill Zach. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill Zach, she repeated over and over.

  The islander slapped her across the face, and she gasped.

  The man who looked like a tourist came up behind her and grabbed her arm. His partner pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket, ripped the top open, and clamped a damp cloth over her face. It smelled strong and unpleasant.

  She tried to scream again, but the sound ended in a gurgle as her head began to spin. She would have dropped to the ground if the man behind her hadn’t held her up.

  She tried to turn her head away from the cloth pressed over her nose and mouth, tried to struggle against the pungent smell that was turning her mind to oatmeal. And then she lost the fight and sank into oblivion.

  MAYBE it was a long time later. Or maybe it was only a few minutes. By slow degrees, woozy consciousness returned, and Anna found that she was lying facedown on a flat surface. Something soft and comfortable. Her eyes blinked open, and she saw
a bright pattern near her face. A bedspread or maybe a comforter.

  Confusion simmered in her mind. She hadn’t seen anything like that in the white house on the island. So then where was she?

  The bed swayed gently.

  Was she on a boat?

  Had Zach taken her away on the Odysseus? Yes. That was what she wanted. So much. Yet she wasn’t sure it was true.

  Someone stroked his fingers through her hair.

  “Wake up,” he said softly.

  She tried to move, but found that her arms and legs wouldn’t obey her commands.

  “Zach? What’s wrong with me?”

  “Forget about him. He’s dead.”

  “No!” she gasped, trying to jerk to a sitting position. It was then that she realized that her wrists and ankles were strapped to the sides of the bed.

  As she struggled against the bonds, she heard a swishing sound. Then something came down sharply on her bottom. Her bare bottom.

  She screamed in surprise and pain. And fear as she realized she was naked and lying spread-eagle, facedown on a bed.

  In desperation, her mind tried to reach for Zach—and came up with nothing.

  When the man pressed his hand over her shoulder, panic threatened to swallow her whole.

  “The sooner you forget about your dead lover, the easier it will be for you.”

  He stepped back, and his advice was punctuated by the swishing sound. This time, when the stinging pain seared her bottom, she knew that she had been struck with a whip.

  Since she’d awakened, her mind had been foggy. It was instantly sharp and clear.

  She took her lip between her teeth, struggling not to scream again. She knew it would get her nowhere. And she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had caused her pain.

  He struck her twice, and she braced for another bite of the lash. Instead, the man lowered himself so that he was sitting on the floor beside the bed, his face even with her eye level.

  She gasped when she saw it was Raoul San Donato—the gallery owner who had saved her from the street children. The man who had invaded her mind when she and Zach had been together. The man who had struggled to take her away from Zach.

  And now he had her.

  She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm. If she went stark raving mad, it would do her no good.

 

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