If it took Zeke’s last breath, he’d find Carreon and would destroy him. There was simply no other—
Shit. The ashy light showed a sudden turn in the trail, interrupting his thoughts. As carefully as he could, Zeke veered to the right.
Liz’s hand slid off his thigh.
He jockeyed the vehicle past rocks and furrows, missing each. The ride was now relatively smooth, considering. It should have calmed him but didn’t. Why?
A quick check of the gauges told him the Jeep was operating properly. He scanned the moon-washed landscape, not seeing anyone coming their way. A good thing. Except something still wasn’t quite right.
What?
Her hand slid off my thigh.
Liz hadn’t taken it back. It had dropped away from him.
Uneasy at what that might mean, Zeke slowed the Jeep and glanced over. His next breath froze in his throat.
Liz’s chin rested on her chest. Her thick chestnut hair had swung forward, hiding her face. The ends shifted with the Jeep’s movements, as did her arms and legs. She looked asleep…unconscious.
Dead.
“Liz!” Zeke shouted.
He hit the brakes. The vehicle skidded over the loose terrain, then shimmied to a stop. Dirt swirled around it, driven by the tires and breeze. The moon’s sheer rays illuminated the area in front of them, murky with dust that blew from behind.
“What is it?” her father cried.
It’s okay. Dammit, it has to be. She must have hit her head on the door when the Jeep was bouncing, which knocked her out. That’s all it was. She couldn’t be—
Zeke pushed the awful thought away and turned in his seat. Before he could grab her and shake her back to consciousness, Munez clamped his hand on her shoulder.
Liz jerked as though an electric shock had shot through her body. She blinked rapidly and wore the same confused expression one would when fighting to pull out of a deep slumber. Turning from Zeke to her father and back, she asked, “What?”
She regarded the landscape—isolated and eerie—then frowned. “Why did you stop?”
Zeke grabbed her upper arm. “Did you fall asleep?”
“No.” Her frown said she found his question odd. “Why?”
“How do you feel now?” her father asked.
She brushed back her hair and noticed his hand on her shoulder. “Frightened.”
A wave of nausea rolled through Zeke. Had she gone to the other side again? Was it calling her back, refusing to loosen its grip on her? He squeezed her arm. “Why?”
Her eyebrows lifted at his obvious panic. “We’re not moving. We’re targets out here if Carreon’s men find us. We need to get going.” She gestured to the road.
Zeke made no move to go down it.
Bewilderment flooded her lovely features. She studied the vehicle’s gauges. “Is something wrong with the motor? Is it about to quit? Are we going to have to walk to your stronghold?”
Zeke tried to exchange a glance with her father, but the man kept his attention on her. If he was concerned about what just happened, it didn’t register on his aged face.
“We better get going,” Munez said.
Reluctantly, Zeke pulled away. This time, he drove more cautiously, which allowed him to sneak glimpses of Liz. Her complexion was lighter in the wan light, though not too pale. Certainly nowhere near the point where he’d question her well-being. If anything, her hazel eyes sparkled with life and health. Her sultry features—especially her pouty lower lip—were as inviting as the first time they’d been together.
They’d been in Carreon’s stronghold then. Three bullets to his chest had brought Zeke down with little chance of survival. Carreon ordered Liz to heal their enemy so he could harness and use Zeke’s ability to see the future.
Zeke had awakened in a large bed with Liz’s body draped over his, both of them nude, their mouths joined, her breath and life force pouring inside, healing him. She’d delivered him from the brink of death, from his desire to continue to the other side so he could reunite with Gabrielle, his daughter. She was only eight when Carreon’s lieutenants had murdered her. Zeke hadn’t wanted to be separated from his child again. He resented Liz’s efforts to heal him and fought against it, but her power had been too strong.
Her touch, warmth and weight too enticing.
Her violet fragrance, light and sweet, had mingled with her womanly musk, so feminine and sultry. He’d returned her kiss, savoring the unique flavor of her tongue, her seeming willingness to be with him. They’d necked hungrily, then with a surprising measure of tenderness. As though they were sweethearts committed to each other, not enemies brought together by Carreon’s desire for power. He’d once been Liz’s lover, duping her into wanting him and healing his men.
Carreon’s possession of her changed that night.
When Zeke had entered Liz, she became his alone. His body trembled at her cunt’s intense heat, its snug fit around his rigid cock. On one level, Zeke had known she used their mating to heal him. The deeper he went, the more of her healing gift and life force he drew inside.
On another level, he understood she’d wanted him, even then, as much as he soon desired her.
She had to be all right. There couldn’t be any other outcome. She must have fallen asleep a few seconds ago. After the battle between their people, her subsequent death and resurrection, she had every reason to be tired. Hell, who wouldn’t be?
At last, she looked at him. “You should keep your eyes on the road.”
“Are you tired?”
Genuine surprise flickered across her face. “No. Why? Do I look it?”
Zeke had rarely seen her more alert. More alive.
Unwilling to dwell on how long it might last or what had caused her previous spell—if that was all it was—he concentrated on his driving.
Munez settled back into his seat. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed Zeke the older man’s shock of white hair, his forehead and cheeks furrowed further by the play of moonlight and shadows. The doctor continued to watch his daughter. However, no concern showed on his features.
Zeke drove without thinking, knowing this area well. As much as he tried to stop it, he kept recalling how Liz’s body had flopped in her seat, no different from a rag doll or someone who no longer had control of their limbs.
Why?
More importantly, why hadn’t she recalled it? She hadn’t been a bit concerned or confused at what had happened. It was as though her mind remained sharp, continuing to register events, even as her body ceased to respond. Was that normal for someone with her blood and heritage? Was that why her father didn’t seem at all uneasy?
Zeke chanced another glimpse in his rearview mirror.
In that instant, the noise from the Jeep’s chugging motor faded, along with Liz’s too quiet breathing that he’d strained to hear. He wasn’t able to detect rocks and other debris hitting the vehicle’s undercarriage, though he knew they must be, the noise mimicking the rat-a-tat-tat of faraway gunfire. The hissing he now heard was loud enough to be painful. He winced.
When he tried to focus on Munez’s snowy hair and weathered face in the mirror, the man’s image faded beneath a glare of white—an oncoming vision.
Within seconds, it was as though Zeke stood outside the Jeep, observing himself as he brought the vehicle to a slow halt. He watched Liz and her father turning to him, speaking words he couldn’t hear, their expressions surprised…worried.
He couldn’t answer. Too many pictures pulsed in his mind with the irritating speed of a strobe light.
He saw a woman’s hand, her skin color rich, familiar. Liz? Within her fist she held a slender onyx knife with a metal button on the side of its hilt. A switchblade? Blood dirtied its steel edge. Whose?