“Blow air into her mouth,” Carreon directed. “Lay on top of her. Touch every fucking part of her body.”
Trinidad appeared briefly amused at his unorthodox request, but did as he wanted. She angled her mouth over Maria’s, pouring her breath inside the woman. Her hand went to Maria’s breast, fondling it, then journeyed down her belly to her mound. She slipped two fingers into the woman’s sheath.
Carreon stepped closer, searching for faint signs of life, that Maria was return—
There. Her fingers. Had she lifted them?
He focused on her hand, his frown deepening at how it shifted…because Trinidad’s faint rocking motion had caused it.
“Keep blowing into her mouth,” he demanded, an image filling his mind of Liz having done the same with Zeke. Until her breath had filled him, Neekoma hadn’t responded to her healing.
During the next few minutes, Trinidad’s noisy exhales competed with the music throbbing from the club. A charade put on for Maria’s benefit. Carreon had wanted her to believe his VIP clients were waiting for her in the otherwise deserted bar.
Trinidad’s foot tapped in time with the tune even as she tried to resuscitate her co-worker. Ernez stopped tending to his lacerated hands when he noticed Carreon watching him. Uneasiness swept over the younger man’s face. He ignored his own injuries and watched the two women.
From the other room, the bass clapped suddenly and repeatedly, sounding like something monstrous striking the building on all sides. A gasp followed it.
From Ernez? Carreon turned back to the young man, glaring at him.
Ernez didn’t notice. He stared at the door as if Satan himself was playing drums on the other side of it. Or perhaps he was worried that a cop might happen by. One they hadn’t paid off, who would be curious as to why music blared within the establishment at this hour, and who might not take kindly to seeing a dead woman on the floor.
More bass. These vibrations were even stronger than the others, registering in Carreon’s belly. They paused for a second. During it, there was another sharp intake of air, though not from Ernez.
Carreon regarded Maria, warning himself not to expect too much.
Her chest actually rose with her next gasp.
He stared, relief, then joy flooding him. Trinidad had actually brought the woman back.
“Turn that shit off,” Carreon ordered Ernez.
He hurried out of the office into the club.
Carreon concentrated on Maria. As quickly as his hope had risen, it now fell. She was breathing, but her eyes were still vacant, her limbs slack. The same as Oscar’s and Anthony’s had been when Liz’s father claimed he couldn’t heal the men.
Because he’d held back. He’d lied.
“Keep trying,” Carreon ordered Trinidad.
Annoyance darkened her expression.
“Now,” he insisted.
“She’s alive,” Trinidad argued. “Breathing on her own. Exactly what you wanted.”
“Bullshit. I want her back to the way she was when she came in here.”
“Why?” She sat back on her heels, palms on her knees, thighs spread widely, cunt exposed. “I found her annoying.”
He smiled at her cockiness, then sobered just as quickly. “Restore her to the way she should be.”
“And if I can’t?”
“I don’t accept failure.”
“You should have thought of that when you told Ernez to strangle her.”
Before Carreon could comment, or grab and squeeze Trinidad’s throat to prove he’d lost all patience with her fucking banter, Ernez returned. The club was now blessedly silent, which accentuated the way Maria wheezed. As though she were drowning in air.
“Go on,” Carreon ordered Trinidad.
On an exasperated sigh, she lay on Maria again and ministered to her, breathing more air into her mouth, touching each part of the woman’s limp body.
For a moment, there was a spark of awareness in Maria’s expression. A
Minutes later, Carreon finally snapped, “Enough.”
Without objection, Trinidad rolled to the side and rummaged through Maria’s purse, pulling out a pack of Camels. The unfiltered kind that gave the most kick. With her cigarette lit, she pulled deeply on it as one would after great sex. Ignoring the previous warning that she wasn’t supposed to smoke in here.
Trinidad’s insolence was the least of Carreon’s concerns. He’d deal with it later when he could focus solely on her, teaching obedience, submission to his will. Lessons he’d enjoy and she’d endure.
“Finish her off,” Carreon ordered Ernez, gesturing to Maria.
“He should leave her here,” Trinidad said.
Carreon looked over. “Why?”
Did she want to practice on the woman? Had Trinidad considered, as he had, that she might strengthen her gift by using it?
“Who healed for you before you came here last night?” Trinidad asked.
“What business is that of yours?” Carreon answered.
She filled her lungs with more smoke, releasing it with her words. “My guess is you’ve lost that person. To Neekoma? I heard rumors earlier about a battle with his men over a woman called Liz.”
Carreon said nothing.
Trinidad picked a piece of tobacco from her tongue. “I’ve heard she’s not only a healer, but painfully honorable.” She smiled as though she found the thought decidedly naive. “You want her back.”
He didn’t answer.
She regarded Maria. The woman’s chest rose and fell with her labored breathing while the rest of her body had absolutely no muscle tone. “Before Ernez finishes Maria off for good, I think there’s a way you can use her to get Liz back.”
Having joined Liz and Jacob at their table, Zeke had encouraged Liz to eat.
“You need to keep up your strength,” he said.
“I’ve had enough, really.” She pushed her barely touched plate aside.
He brought it right back. “We don’t waste food here. We’ve stored a lot, but we still need to send our men out for provisions at times. They’re always risking an ambush from Carreon’s men just to make certain everyone here is well fed.”
Zeke’s heavy dose of guilt worked. Liz finally finished everything on her plate.
He and Jacob escorted her from the dining hall. No one watched them depart, not even Kele. She’d left the kitchen minutes before. On the way to Dr. Munez’s room, Zeke, Jacob and Liz happened upon the women who’d voted for them to leave. Each of those ladies avoided eye contact and conversation, ducking into whatever rooms happened to be available, closing and locking those doors as they passed.
Jacob pretended not to notice the lingering resentment. Zeke did the same. Liz sighed repeatedly.
At the door to her father’s room, Zeke spoke to his brother. “Don’t leave. This will only take a minute; then I want to see the prisoners.”
“Do they need to be healed?” Liz asked.
Zeke was about to exchange a glance with Jacob but thought better of it, not wanting Liz to see and interpret it as something bad. That would come soon enough. “No. Your father’s already seen to everyone. We have something we’d like to talk to you about.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “What?”
“Let’s go inside.”
He gestured her into the room. Jacob watched Liz with that same yearning expression he’d worn in the
