companions, possibly a deep bronze. Hard to tell in the scant light. His thick black hair was slicked back, his expression unchanging when the bullet pierced his upper lip. It shattered his teeth and surely destroyed his brainstem.
His companion’s heavy eyebrows shot up, no doubt at the sound of the bullet’s impact, the blood that sprayed on his beard-shadowed cheeks.
It would be the last movement the man ever made on this earth. Zeke’s next shot caught the passenger in his thick throat.
The man in the backseat opened his mouth in what appeared to be a scream.
Without anyone to guide it, the SUV wove drunkenly over the trail, listing to the left as it hit a deep cleft. Back and forth it tottered, its metal groaning like a creature from hell before it came to an uneasy stop, leaning on one side. Two of its inhabitants slumped lifelessly in their seats. No different than Liz had looked a short while a —
Bent at the waist to take as much cover as he could, Zeke ran toward the SUV. As he neared the vehicle, he heard scrambling inside—the remaining man trying to right himself and grab his gun.
Zeke remained in a crouch as more noises poured from the vehicle. A frustrated huff. The smack of a man’s foot hitting a door, which swung open with a tortured creak.
Puffs of dust plumed up as Carreon’s remaining lieutenant fell from the SUV, his boots hitting the ground.
Taking aim, Zeke hollered, “Drop the weapon, or you’re dead too.”
All movement stopped. Even the Jeep’s elevated wheels no longer spun.
“Move away from the vehicle—
“Fuck you!” The man lifted his rifle, took aim.
Zeke fired a volley of shots into his legs, exposed beneath the Jeep’s opened door. On a wild, agonized scream, Carreon’s lieutenant tumbled down, still clutching his weapon, aiming it, preparing to fire.
Another shot stopped him from doing so.
Zeke wanted to feel bad, but couldn’t. Nor would he offer any of these men a chance at reanimation. Their deaths were for Gabrielle and all the others in his clan who’d never asked for this fight. Who’d paid the ultimate price for Carreon’s hunger for power.
As the man’s blood flowed into the parched ground, Zeke regarded him. He was lean with a shaved head, the same as Carreon, his features decidedly plain, his lips too thin, nose too large. Not the man in Zeke’s vision whose longish hair and good looks were the kind that women found enticing, arousing.
Why had he been in the vision? Who was he? Another of Carreon’s men?
Zeke pulled the driver from the vehicle. His body thudded to the ground. Given the SUV’s angle, it would be a bitch to climb in and delete the GPS information so Carreon’s other lieutenants wouldn’t be able to use it to locate Zeke’s stronghold.
They wouldn’t have had it the last time if not for Kele. Zeke tamped down his anger at her. Heartache and jealousy, nothing else, had led her to betray their clan. She loved his younger brother, Jacob, while Jacob barely noticed her. Jacob wanted Liz, despite Zeke’s insistence that he wouldn’t share her. With Kele unable to stand any more hurt or rejection, she’d led Carreon’s men to the stronghold tonight so they would take Liz away.
To keep that from happening again, Zeke positioned himself at what he hoped was a safe distance and fired into the dashboard. Luckily, there wasn’t a dramatic explosion, the vehicle engulfed in flames, him hit by flying metal as one might see in an action-adventure flick.
A gaping hole replaced where the GPS system had once been. Faint wisps of smoke rose from it and the muzzle of his weapon. The best he could do. Hopefully, these men had been too busy fleeing to have downloaded the data to Carreon’s computer system and given the bastard another chance to locate Zeke’s clan in what was supposed to be a hidden and secure location.
He took the men’s weapons and cell phones, then ran back to the Jeep. His feet pounded the dirt, an accompaniment to the other night sounds. Animals cried out in the dark or skittered about. Brisk air skipped over the stark landscape, whining, then whistling. Near-dead vegetation crackled as though in answer.
At the Jeep, Zeke opened Liz’s door. She flinched, horror etched on her face, her tee and jeans smeared with blood from the earlier battle that Kele had caused.
“It’s all right,” Zeke panted. “I got them.”
She reached for him. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” He swallowed and embraced her briefly. “Get back in your seat, please. We have to go.” He circled the vehicle and put the confiscated phones and weapons on the floor in the back.
Munez leaned away from them.
Zeke got behind the wheel.
“Your vision didn’t come true this time,” Liz said. “It did when Carreon strangled me, but not—”
“It wouldn’t have happened then if you hadn’t left the stronghold. When I tell you to stay put, you do so, understand?” He shifted the Jeep into drive. “That’s why Jacob was hit tonight. My vision showed it happening, and I tried to prevent it, but he refused to listen to me. Just like you keep—”
“All right, all right, I’ll—wait, what are you doing?” She looked in her side-view mirror, the direction they’d been going. “This is the wrong way, isn’t it?”
Zeke gulped more air. “We have to go back to Carreon’s stronghold.”
“You can’t be serious. Why?”
“The vehicle you drove to Carreon’s is still there.”
“So?”
Zeke sighed out his next breath, wearier than he wanted to be. “He or his men will use the GPS to locate my clan’s stronghold. Right now, I’m hoping they still don’t know where it is. The moment they do, they’ll come again for you and your father. This time my people and I might not be able to stop them.”
Liz rocked in her seat as though she didn’t want to hear it.
Zeke continued toward Carreon’s stronghold, not knowing what he’d find. Not knowing what else his visions might protect them from or lead them into.
Chapter Two
The last place Liz wanted to be tonight was back at Carreon’s estate, the mansion hidden and all too secluded within miles of unforgiving desert. She recalled the damp smell of the tropical plants in his foyer, the scent of citrusy furniture polish, the sterile air in his safe room. His fingers around her throat, the intolerable pressure as his thumbs dug into her hyoid bone.
Instinctively, she drew in her shoulders at the remembered and terrifying sensation of her lungs burning. How her body had ached with the need for air. Unrestrained fury had flared in Carreon’s icy eyes. Blood dripped from his earlobe. She’d ripped his silver earring from it as she’d fought him.
Insane with rage that she’d come to stop him from harming anyone else—especially because it meant she was finally prepared to murder him—he’d pressed tighter.
Suppressing a shudder at the awful memories, Liz focused on the murky terrain surrounding them. How many more of Carreon’s men were out here tonight? Had he already sent backups to his stronghold? How could Zeke hope to fight all of them off by himself?
Knowing he couldn’t, Liz turned in her seat and reached into the back.
Zeke glanced at her. “What are you doing?”
“Papa, hand me that weapon.” She gestured to the one she wanted, a mean-looking sucker with a barrel as long as her arm.
Zeke spoke sharply. “No.”
Her father concurred, pushing her hand back.
Liz spoke through her teeth. “Give it to me.”
“Why?” Zeke asked.
