As a whole, the group turned to Zeke.
He looked wearier than Liz had ever seen him, torn between what was expected and what he could live with.
“We should banish her,” the young woman said.
Kele lowered her face, making no move to defend herself.
She seemed so alone, so thoroughly defeated, Liz ached for the young woman as much as she did for Zeke. Kele had done a monstrous thing by leading Carreon’s men here. However, her hopeless love for Jacob, wanting to keep him away from Liz had driven her. Nothing else. Surely, everyone here knew that.
“No,” Zeke said. “Kele stays. I know she made a mistake.” He interrupted the young woman, his tone mild, pacifying. “But she also risked her life to protect you and the others. No one harms her. No one treats her badly, understand?”
Kele murmured, “Thank you.”
Liz swallowed. She wanted to hug the girl, give her some measure of comfort, but didn’t dare do so.
“Close the door,” Zeke ordered.
As they sealed the stronghold, he spoke to Jacob. “Dr. Munez needs a place to stay. See that he’s comfortable, all right?”
Jacob nodded once, still not acknowledging Liz’s presence.
It was so odd, she couldn’t help but continue to question it. Before tonight’s battle, he’d made it clear that he wanted Zeke to share her, not even bothering to ask her thoughts in the matter. Those, Liz suspected, Jacob had known from the start. He was a great-looking man, as virile as his brother. However, he wasn’t Zeke.
She wondered if Zeke saving Jacob’s life tonight might have had something to do with his sudden attitude change, unless there was something more behind it.
Maybe Jacob didn’t want to challenge his brother’s authority at this point…as Isabel had just tried. Perhaps he was simply being more circumspect in his desires. Or he was still worried about Kele’s jealousy. What she might do next because of it.
“Please go back to your rooms and see to your loved ones,” Zeke said to his people. “No one followed us here. No one can get inside.”
“So you want your people to hide here forever?” Isabel asked.
Liz noted the derisive way the older woman had said your people, as though their vote for Zeke to stay had made them her enemy.
He sighed. His entire body seemed to wilt with it. “We’ll have a meeting in the morning to discuss our options and whatever else you want.”
Her expression didn’t soften.
“We’ll meet now if you’d like,” Zeke said.
“No,” Ike cut in. “We’re all tired. Tomorrow morning’s fine, right, guys?”
They mumbled their agreement.
Ike clamped his hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of things tonight.”
Not arguing with his friend, Zeke took Liz’s hand and went down the hall toward the group.
They stepped back immediately, allowing him and Liz a wide berth. Out of respect or because none of them wanted to touch her?
Liz could feel Isabel’s glare and had to force herself not to glance over her shoulder at the woman. Once Zeke brought Liz past the last of the crowd, she murmured, “Where are we going?”
“My room.”
As he had during her first time in the stronghold, Zeke led Liz past a series of halls, each of them bullet-ridden now and filthy with blood. Earlier, they’d been filled with children playing games, watching TV. Liz’s stomach rolled. If Carreon’s men had harmed one of those innocents tonight…
At the awful thought, she squeezed Zeke’s hand.
He looked over. “What?”
“Were any of your people harmed?”
“Except for Jacob and Samuel, no.”
Samuel. He’d been guarding the outside door when Kele and Carreon’s men had arrived. One of those lieutenants had shot both of Samuel’s knees, leaving him in agony. Before Liz had left the stronghold, she’d healed him. Not to the extent that he was whole again. That would have taken time she hadn’t had in her determination to see Carreon dead. The last she’d seen of Samuel, he was sagged against one of the vehicles, shouting at her not to drive away.
“Wait,” Liz said.
“Why?” Zeke kept his pace, forcing her to follow.
“I didn’t heal Samuel fully. I should—”
“Your father will take care of it.”
Was he joking? “He’s more tired than I am. He’s old, Zeke. I want him to rest, not tend to your men’s injuries when I can do it.”
“Samuel will be fine.”
They’d reached the stairway that led to the stronghold’s second level. Zeke directed Liz up those steps. The first time they’d done this, he’d taken her to his brother’s room where she’d pressed her naked body against Jacob’s, restoring him to full health. Unlike her father’s power that allowed him to heal the gravest injuries with a mere touch, Liz’s gift wasn’t as strong. When a man was near death, all of her nudity had to touch his in order for her to push enough of her healing gift and life force inside.
It was only when the injury was relatively minor, like her father’s sprained ankle or even Samuel’s bloodied knees, that her touch alone would suffice.
A touch she hadn’t used since leaving Carreon’s stronghold.
When she and Zeke reached the landing, Liz asked, “Why don’t you want me to heal anyone?”
He went in the opposite direction of Jacob’s room, toward the end of the hall and a set of grand double doors. Constructed of a dark wood, possibly mahogany, they bore geometric designs—the same as those on the rugs gracing the walls—and had ornate silver handles. “Did I say that?”
No. But he kept keeping her from doing it. “I can heal Samuel’s knees without taking off my clothes and crawling all over him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Zeke stopped at the double doors and regarded her, his emotions well concealed. “Good to know.”
Was he teasing her…or was he worried about something? Liz recalled his weird questions in the Jeep, his unease as he’d studied her as a physician might, looking for signs of what? Sickness? Physical decline? Death?
She stared at him.
He ignored her and opened one of the doors. “Go on.”
She backed into the room, noting its limestone walls, the same as those in Jacob’s, decorated with similar snake totems in vivid hues. However, this space was three times as large. She regarded the wide bed of a rustic construction, its design matching the nightstands and lamps. What tourists would pay thousands for in order to possess authentic Indian art and craftsmanship.
“What’s going on?” Liz asked, wanting to know what Zeke was thinking. What worried him about her.
He closed the door. Its spring lock clicked faintly. The moment he touched the limestone wall, it glowed as it had in Jacob’s bath and room, the rock a soft golden shade, lending a dreamy, cozy feel to this space.
The setting should have relaxed, then aroused Liz with what was surely coming.
Zeke’s silence precluded that.
More questions poured from her. “Why won’t you let me heal anyone? In the Jeep, why did you ask if I’d fallen asleep? Wait.” She interrupted herself even though he hadn’t said anything. Liz shook her head. “You said I’d passed out. Why? And why did my father ask how I was feel—”
He stopped her with his kisses on each corner of her mouth, surprisingly tender and gentle, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
Unable to resist, Liz twined her arms around his neck and sagged into him. “Zeke—”
“No more questions,” he said with a sigh, his mouth on her ear, his body pressed close. “Not now. Just hold me. Please.”
His weary plea did more than any command. The love Liz heard in those few words touched her soul. Drawing him as close as she could, she nestled her face against his neck and suckled his skin, enjoying its salty flavor.