Jacob shook his head as though he was having trouble comprehending this. “The only ones she could bring back from the dead or heal are Carreon’s men. The two we took prisoner weren’t injured, and the others…” He paused, then continued, “We’ve already taken care of the bodies. What?” he asked suddenly. “You look weird. Why?”
Zeke recalled part of his vision, again of the young man with the dark hair. Was he one of the men they’d captured? How could that be? The vision showed him outside. Had he escaped? “Is anyone guarding the prisoners?”
“Are you serious? They won’t get out unless we let them. Our guys know what they’re doing.” Jacob spoke even faster, “They hacked into the bastards’ smart phones and the system they had on their vehicles. Anything hooked up to a server or satellite. Took all that shit down so the others still out there can’t use the data to find this place.”
Zeke wished he had known that before going back to Carreon’s stronghold to wipe the Jeep’s GPS clean. He knew he should have felt bad about ambushing those three men. However, if he hadn’t, they would have come back here, wouldn’t they? They would have done to Liz, her father and Zeke’s clan what they’d done to Gabrielle. “Good.”
Jacob spoke at an even lower pitch than he had before. “Did Liz’s reanimation cause the healing to somehow reverse? Shit, does her touch kill now rather than heal?”
“No.” Zeke stood. “Just do as I say, right now. For Liz, all right?”
Jacob’s cheeks darkened with his blush. A reminder of his desire for her. He seemed uneasy—again out of character for him.
Before Zeke could ask why, Jacob nodded and stood. “I’d never let anything happen to her.”
“I know.” Zeke squeezed his brother’s shoulder in gratitude, then left the room.
They weren’t only able to heal the injured, they could reanimate. Both Liz and her father were able to bring back the dead.
And they’d kept that ability from him.
Carreon bristled with fury. He recalled how Dr. Munez had put on a show as he’d struggled to heal Oscar and Anthony, two of Carreon’s most dedicated and important lieutenants. Young men who killed with impunity at his command.
They weren’t dead, yet Munez had claimed they’d been too injured to heal fully. They’d sustained so much blood loss, the only outcome would be brain damage.
Carreon remembered the men’s vacant stares, their slack limbs. Even when he demanded that Munez bring them back to what they’d been, the good doctor claimed he could not. With Anthony and Oscar useless to him, Carreon ordered his other lieutenants to take them into the desert, leaving them to their unfortunate fates.
It had been a lie. A fucking con. And now, Zeke Neekoma had Liz and her father’s gift at his disposal.
Carreon stared at the cell phone on Ernez’s desk, willing it to ring with news he wanted to hear. It did not. At last, he made the call.
“What’s taking so long?” he asked in response to Victor’s hello. “Surely, you’ve found something by now.”
He’d ordered the man and Roberto to locate Zeke’s stronghold, hidden within the vast New Mexico landscape. He’d told Roberto not to harm Zeke in the least once they captured him. Carreon wanted to witness the torture.
Victor said nothing. All Carreon heard in the background was a bird’s squawking, which put the man outside his vehicle. Why? Had they found something?
“Answer me,” Carreon ordered.
Victor spoke haltingly. “Most of the men who’d gone to Neekoma’s stronghold last night haven’t returned. They’re either dead or prisoners.”
Carreon gripped the phone so hard the plastic groaned. “Most?”
“Roberto and I just found three of our men.”
“Where?”
“A few miles east of your stronghold. In their vehicle. Dead. Shot.” He offered their names.
Why was Victor telling him this? Carreon didn’t care who they were or if they were dancing with angels on a cloud. “What about the GPS?” It would lead them to Zeke’s hiding place. “Have you looked at it?”
“Can’t,” Victor said, then continued, the words pouring from him. “Whoever ambushed them shot out the dashboard. Their cell phones are gone. One of Neekoma’s people must have wiped the main server clean, hacked into it, then put in a virus or something. I don’t know, but nothing’s there. We did find another vehicle at your stronghold, but the information in its GPS was deleted.”
Carreon pushed out of his chair and paced the length of the strip club’s office.
Trinidad watched him from the sofa, running her long, manicured nails over her naked thigh. Having slept for a few hours, she looked refreshed, yet indifferent to the drama.
Dark circles ringed Ernez’s eyes. He hadn’t dared close them, no doubt fearful of what his fate might have been if he slumbered. As he shifted from foot to foot, he kept glancing at the door that led to the back lot, probably craving a moment to go out there so he could enjoy a smoke.
Carreon inhaled deeply, then spoke to Victor. “You’re telling me we have no way to find Zeke’s stronghold.”
“We’ll keep trying…looking.”
“Don’t come back until you find it.” He ended the call and hurled the cell phone. It smacked into the wall just to the side of the club’s promotional calendar. The impact separated the phone’s plastic casing with part of it falling to the right, the other to the left.
Carreon went to the sofa.
Trinidad finished her yawn. With maddening apathy, she regarded him.
“You can heal,” he said.
“He’s no longer bleeding,” she answered, inclining her head to Ernez. “Neither are you.” She regarded his earlobe with obvious pride.
Carreon held back an oath. The fucker still stung, the pain hardly banished even after so many hours. Beneath his fingers, the lobe felt puffy and deformed. Liz’s gift and her father’s would have restored it to its original shape, because their abilities would always be stronger than Trinidad’s. Unless… Again, Carreon wondered if the power to heal—to reanimate—was something one could nurture and strengthen with regular use.
There was only one way to find out.
“Ernez.”
The man went to Carreon immediately, while also keeping a safe distance…just out of arm’s reach.
For the moment, Carreon ignored Ernez’s prudent caution and spoke to Trinidad. “Give me your knife.”
She regarded the injury she’d given Ernez and delivered her switchblade with a smile.
“Your hand,” Carreon said to the younger man. “The one that hasn’t been cut.”
Ernez backed up a step.
Carreon depressed the button that released the blade. Ernez flinched at its silky whoosh, then stared at the gleaming metal as though it were a living thing, a monster from a horrible nightmare.
“Now,” Carreon ordered.
Ernez didn’t move. He seemed unable to breathe.
When he’d murdered his own cousin on Carreon’s orders, he’d shown no fear or hesitation. Then he’d been obedient and brave. No longer.
He whispered, “Please don’t.”
Please don’t? Did the idiot actually believe that would change anything? Carreon needed to test the extent of Trinidad’s power. He had to use her for his own ends until he had Liz and her father back, which he would. He’d also have Zeke, torturing him into revealing his visions.
“It’s either your hand or your balls,” Carreon said, offering a choice.
Ernez trembled. He put out his hand. It shook badly.
“Would you like me to hold him still?” Trinidad asked.
“Bitch,” Ernez growled.
“Yes,” she said, leveling her gaze on him. “What of it?”
“Cut her,” Ernez begged Carreon. “See if she can heal herself.”