Deep Within Me (The Prophesy #2)

Chapter Fourteen

Within minutes, Jacob had restored the data Kele had deleted—the Google map, a blueprint of the building, the location of all the security cameras, their transmissions.

“The club’s on Vincencia Street,” he said then snapped, “Why didn’t she tell us? What the fuck does she think she’s doing?”

She wants your forgiveness and love, Liz thought, sorrow gripping her. Despite what had already happened, and Kele’s seeming acceptance that she’d never be the woman Jacob desired, she still longed for the impossible.

Zeke went to his brother. “Jacob, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Quit blocking me.”

Zeke didn’t move. “Kele’s too far away. You can’t catch up with her now.”

“We can’t let her fight him alone. What about your fucking vision? What’s going to happen to her?”

“Zeke’s visions don’t always come true,” Liz said, going to them. “They’re a warning of what might happen, not necessarily how things will turn out. You survived and so did Zeke. Even I came back.” She glanced at Zeke and added, “I’m all right.”

He looked as though he’d never believe that again. Not fully.

Holding back a sigh, Liz spoke to Jacob. “Diaz is with Kele. He hates Carreon as much as we all do. He’ll protect her.”

Jacob backed away. “Sure. If she told him what she was doing.”

“Even if she didn’t,” Zeke said, “he’ll know soon enough, and he’ll help her.”

Jacob stopped shifting from foot to foot. “You really believe that, or is it something you’re only saying to keep me here?”

“Oh God, don’t leave,” Liz said. She wrapped her arms around Jacob’s torso. His heart beat as wildly as hers. “Diaz will keep her safe,” Liz murmured. “He’ll prove Zeke’s vision was wrong. Diaz will change the future, just as Zeke did when he saw you dying during the battle here.”

Jacob made a noise that sounded resigned or tired then caressed Liz as Zeke had when they’d first returned to the stronghold and he’d begged her to stop asking so many questions…to simply hold him. “You really believe Kele will be all right?”

It was a moment before Liz could answer. Right now, all she had was hope. “Even if she’s not, I can bring her back.”

“No,” Zeke said, going to them. “I won’t allow it.”

“That goes double for me,” Jacob said. “Your father won’t go for it either. He’ll help her, should it come to that.”

Liz didn’t argue. Now wasn’t the time. She refused to believe that she could no longer heal. That one day, she’d have to let Zeke, her father, or Jacob slip away in order to protect herself.

Uh-uh. No freaking way. She’d never allow that. Nor would she consider that Kele and Diaz wouldn’t come back. “Is it possible for you to start a transmission, or whatever you call it, to the club?” she asked. “For us to see what’s going on?”

Zeke and Jacob exchanged a glance.

Liz spoke before they could. “If you can’t do it with the computer Carreon used before, what about a security camera? Maybe there’s one in the office like those outside the building. Can you hack into it, intercept the image, whatever needs to be done?”

“It’s worth a try,” Jacob said.

Zeke ran his fingers over his mouth, looking uncertain. Liz noticed how he kept glancing behind himself as though he expected someone to barge into the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Jacob stopped short of the computer, waiting for his brother’s answer.

“How long will it take you to bring up an image, if you can?” Zeke said. “Is it even possible to turn on his system from here?”

“I can sure as hell try.” He started keying.

“How long will it take?” Zeke repeated.

“Maybe a couple of minutes…maybe more.”

“Do you think Kele’s already there?” Liz asked Zeke then glanced toward the hall as he had. It was still empty. “Who are you looking for?”

“I don’t know if Kele’s already there,” Zeke answered Liz’s first question, ignoring the second. He spoke to Jacob. “You have five minutes, no more.”

“Why?” Liz asked. She went to Zeke. “Tell me.”

“Everything’s going to be all right,” he said, his attention again straying to the hall. His expression saying he wanted out of here, like a man who needed to flee.

Blood poured through Carreon’s fingers, which were clutched against his belly. He stared at Kele in horror and confusion as though he didn’t quite believe matters had come to this. He’d been defeated so easily.

He fell to his knees. A thin stream of blood poured from the side of his mouth. He tried to speak, but the words never came.

To Kele, the scene unfolded in slo-mo. On his knees, Carreon swayed to the right, the left. Her forefinger stroked the rifle’s trigger, but she didn’t shoot him again, suddenly unable to.

She’d done what the others in her clan hadn’t. She’d expected to feel elated, relieved. A creeping numbness settled over her. Her body felt heavy as though a crushing weight were pressing down on it. The weapon’s report had been so loud her ears still rang. Or maybe someone was screaming and that was what she heard.

A quick check of the other man told Kele it wasn’t him making any noise. He’d come to a rest on the floor and hadn’t moved from it, his eyes bugged out, mouth closed, his focus on her weapon.

The young woman Carreon had threatened to kill hadn’t moved either. Nor had she spoken or screamed.

Carreon sagged to the side. He struggled to speak.

The woman kept her attention on Kele.

“Kill her,” Carreon breathed.

Kele swung her weapon’s muzzle at the other man. He didn’t move.

“You’re safe now,” Kele said to the young woman, gesturing her over, away from Carreon. “I’m Kele, from Neekoma’s clan. I’ll get you out of here, I promise.”

The young woman regarded Kele’s weapon then Carreon. At last, she left the sofa, her movements shaky and cautious as she made certain not to pass anywhere near him.

“Kill the bitch,” Carreon cried, his words gargled with blood. More poured from his mouth. He coughed, choking on it.

“It’s okay,” Kele murmured. She slipped her arm around the woman’s narrow shoulders and made certain the other man still hadn’t moved. “What’s your name?”

“Trinidad.”

“Do you have a safe place to go tonight?” Kele asked. “Relatives you can stay with who’ll protect you?”

“No…I’m all alone.”

“Shhh,” Kele said to Trinidad’s whimper. “It’s okay. I’ll bring you to our stronghold. No one will harm you there.”

“How can you say that? Carreon will—”

“He won’t hurt you. He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

“Yes, he will.” Trinidad shivered violently. Her naked breast pressed into Kele’s side. “He told me that Liz and her father can reanimate. Even after he dies, all they’ll have to do is—”

“They won’t with him,” Kele insisted. “Even if they wanted to, I’ll make certain that doesn’t happen.”

“How can you stop it?”

Kele hugged the young woman reassuringly, not wanting her to become hysterical. “Fire,” she said, seeing the solution in her mind. “By the time the authorities get here, his body will have burned beyond recognition or the possibility of reanimation.”

“Oh God.” Trinidad bent at the waist as though she were going to be sick.

Kele swallowed, fighting her own nausea. When she’d decided to come here tonight, she hadn’t thought past killing Carreon. She’d needed to make certain he never harmed another of her clan again or anyone else. Now that he was down, helpless and writhing on the floor, she wasn’t certain she could go further.

You have to.

If she didn’t destroy his body completely, there was always the chance someone in his clan would reanimate him, and then he’d—

Abruptly, Trinidad straightened.

Kele’s thoughts stalled with the movement. She inhaled sharply at the sudden sting in her gut, Trinidad hitting her in the belly. Why?

Kele looked down, not understanding the blood spreading over her tee, Trinidad’s hand fisted around the handle of a knife. Where had it come from? Her boot? Yes. Kele saw the small sleeve inside of it. Why was she doing this?

Trinidad twisted the knife sharply then jerked it up.

Kele gasped at the intense pain, still not understanding. She tried to fight but wasn’t able. Already she was lightheaded from loss of blood.

“I’ll take that,” Trinidad said, grabbing Kele’s assault rifle. After another forceful jab, she removed her knife.

Like Carreon, Kele fell to her knees. Tears welled in her eyes. “Jacob,” she whispered, her bloody fingers growing slack.

She’d only wanted him to love her. Was that so wrong? She tried to say his name again but was unable.

Trinidad stepped back, not wanting to get Kele’s blood on her boots. She went to Carreon.

Blood dirtied his shirt, pants, and the floor surrounding him. She stayed clear of that too.

He blinked slowly, his blue eyes dazed with pain. “Heal me.”

Trinidad regarded his belly, crimson and wet. She recalled how easily he would have traded her life to ensure Liz’s return. She didn’t move.

“Heal me,” he ordered.

Without comment, she turned her back to him. “You take one step out of here,” she said to Ernez, “and I’ll kill you.”

He stopped at the back door.

As Kele had done with her minutes before, Trinidad gestured him closer.

He held his hands in front of himself, as though that would protect him. Gone was his previous arrogance, him treating her as though she were less than scum. He pleaded, “Please don’t shoot me.”

“In the club,” she ordered, using the barrel of the assault rifle to direct him. He backed into the room, long empty of tonight’s patrons and staff. “Get three of the largest bottles of liquor,” she said from the doorway.

Hurriedly, he did as she asked.

Once he returned to the office, she said, “Splash the booze around the bodies.”

Carreon’s mouth formed the word no. Speaking appeared beyond him now, his bronze complexion pale and sickly.

Ernez did as Trinidad directed. When the place reeked of vodka and whiskey, she asked, “Where’s the stronghold?”

“Carreon’s?”

“Not any longer,” she said then told him what to do.

By the time flames engulfed the office, destroying Carreon for good, Trinidad was already in his Escalade. She kept the assault rifle pointed at Ernez as he drove them away.