Hadn’t turned out that way. The same moment Carreon fled from his goddamn stronghold, Zeke had driven up to it. No doubt to rescue Liz.
Clearly, both Zeke and Jacob had been enjoying Liz. Mounting her, driving their stiffened cocks into her moist, heated flesh.
That fucking love had been Liz’s greatest downfall. Carreon relished the memory of his hands around her throat, ending her life. For her betrayal. For wanting the enemy rather than him. For returning tonight with only one purpose—to see him dead.
Carreon bristled at her stupidity, the utter audacity of her plan. He’d shown her where infidelity led, but even then Liz hadn’t simply died as she should have. She’d fought hard. His earlobe still throbbed from her ripping out his earring, the pain deep, constant, making that part of him feel three times its size. The skin on his cheeks and throat burned from where she’d raked him with her nails.
He let out an infuriated growl, wishing she were still alive so he could make her pay once more for harming him.
This time, he’d have Roberto torture her slowly. He’d savor her screams, her pleas for Roberto to stop.
Carreon wouldn’t allow it. He’d take over eventually and would kill her as he had the first time, even if it was a stupid move. No matter what she’d done, how she’d angered him, he still needed her healing gift. However, his rage had also demanded a target. First, with her. Then with her father when Carreon had pushed him from the vehicle.
As Carreon had sped away, one of the last things he’d seen was Munez’s body rolling down the drive toward Zeke’s Jeep.
Had Neekoma driven over the man before he could stop his vehicle? Probably.
A mixture of pleasure and renewed indignation burned in Carreon. He hit the heel of his hand against his steering wheel, having no other target at the moment. He’d lost two healers tonight, the strongest in his clan. Neekoma had driven him from his stronghold.
At this speed, if he lost control of the Escalade, Liz and her father wouldn’t be available to heal him.
The thought persuaded Carreon to ease up on the gas pedal. His vehicle dropped to one hundred, then ninety, eighty…
It felt as though he were crawling toward his destination. He glanced into his side-view and rearview mirrors. No one was behind him. In particular Zeke. No doubt he was still in the safe room, grieving over Liz’s death, holding her body.
Fool.
Accelerating again, Carreon grabbed his cell phone and dialed Ernez, one of his lieutenants. A man who’d murdered his own cousin on Carreon’s orders, for no other reason than Carreon had wanted to see if Ernez would obey the command.
He had without hesitation. Money, not blood, ruled Ernez’s decisions. He’d left poverty behind when Carreon’s lieutenants had recruited him. Few in the clan were educated and successful like Liz and her father. If they wanted wealth, they came to Carreon, and he put them to work. If they chose another path, they were on their own.
None of his men were about to turn away from the riches Carreon had shown them, not even for family.
Tonight, Ernez hadn’t been involved in the conflict at Zeke’s stronghold. There’d been other matters for him to attend to.
The call rang once. A second ring wasn’t necessary. The young man had already picked up and said what Carreon most wanted to hear, “What do you need?”
Carreon told him.
A wave of resentment radiated from Zeke’s clan, especially the women. Liz sensed many of the men behind them were only going along with the program, not wanting to enrage the females further.
Most of them glared at her and her father, their hatred evident.
Not wanting to make the situation worse than it already was, Liz eased her hand from Zeke’s.
He countered by slipping his arm around her waist, drawing her into him in clear opposition to what his people surely wanted. And then her father tightened his arm against hers, a protective gesture.
Liz wanted both of them to tell her everything was going to be all right even as she gave her own assurances. The words wouldn’t come. She didn’t have enough hope.
“What’s this about?” Zeke demanded rather than asked, not even trying to hide his irritation.
Isabel stepped forward. She was a small woman, her coppery complexion barely wrinkled despite her sixty or so years. Her graying hair and eyebrows were all that gave away her true age.
“We don’t want them here,” she said, her attention going to Liz and her father.
Murmurs of agreement came from the women around her. The men said nothing.
Defiantly, Zeke eased Liz even closer. The worst thing he could do. She should have pulled away but knew her strength would be no match for his. Nor did she want to leave his side. She needed to stand with and protect him, no matter how futile it seemed.
“They have nowhere else to go,” Zeke said. “You know that. They’re not a threat to any of us. They’re healers.”
“They’re death,” Isabel snapped, color rising in her cheeks. “They caused tonight’s carnage.” She uncrossed her arms and gestured to the surrounding area.
In too many places, bullets had torn through the wood paneling. Blood pooled on the floor…it speckled the walls and ceiling. When Liz had fled this place to go to Carreon’s stronghold, she’d run past too many of his lieutenants’ bodies.
Those corpses were gone. The stink of death and gunfire remained.
“That’s not true,” Zeke countered Isabel. “You know it isn’t. Liz and her father had nothing to do with what happened.”
“You brought her here,” Isabel argued.
“An enemy,” a young woman to her left said. “Our enemy.”
The others nodded as they voiced their opinions.
“I brought her here to heal Jacob,” Zeke reminded them, speaking louder than everyone else so they’d hear him. “Without Liz, my brother would have died. Did all of you want that?”
“You know we didn’t,” Isabel said through her teeth. “Jacob isn’t the problem. You could have taken her back after she healed him, but you refused. You put her welfare above your clan’s. If not for her, Carreon’s men wouldn’t have come here to—”
“Stop it, please,” Kele interrupted. She pushed through the crowd to reach Isabel. “It wasn’t their fault.”
Liz found it almost painful to look at Kele. The young woman’s velvety brown eyes held a mixture of shame and heartache that made her seem excruciatingly vulnerable. Tall and slender, with a tawny complexion and black hair that hung to her waist, she could have been a supermodel ready for a shoot—she was that lovely—except for the smears of blood on her tee and jeans, the cruel bruises ringing her throat.
From Carreon’s hands or one of his lieutenants’? My God, what had they done to Kele before bringing her here? A wave of revulsion weakened Liz, forcing her to lean against Zeke for support.
Despite the ominous stares from the group, Kele remained subdued, which wasn’t like her at all. In the days Liz had been here, she’d always seen the young woman wear an expression of bitterness or frustration. Resolve seemed to have replaced Kele’s previous emotions, as though she’d finally come to a decision.
