Beyond Fearless (22 page)

She gasped and sprang off the bed, stumbling and almost falling in her haste to put distance between them. The man caught her and pulled her to him, holding her in his arms, his expression fierce with worry as he looked down at her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He looked over her shoulder, his eyes like lasers on Zach's face, and as he felt his own throat closing up, he wondered if looks really could kill.

The woman cupped her hand over the man's shoulder. “Don't hurt him,” she whispered.

“Why not? He hurt you,” he ground out.

“He's already in enough pain.”

He gave her a long look, and the pressure on Zach's throat eased.

She was the one who spoke.

“We came to help you. We didn't take Anna. When we got to the island, Anna was already gone.”

He dropped his head into his hands. “I'm sorry I…grabbed you. I thought you had her…”

“No.”

“I have to get her back.”

“We will.”

He looked at them, seeing them as individuals for the first time. “You were here—in the dream.”

“Yes.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jordan Walker.”

“And Lindsay Walker. Those are our real names, although we don't use them in public anymore. Now we're Jordan and Lindsay West.”

He studied their faces again and was sure they had meant him no harm.

“I have to find Anna,” he repeated. Then a terrible sick feeling grabbed him, and he made a strangled sound. “Shit! San Donato's got her. After he tried to kill me in the dream, he was here again—distracting me. He got me to light a fire and send out a mental distress signal, so I'd think we'd called the boat that came. And he got me fooling around with the weather—to make me focus on the wrong thing and use up my energy.”

Lindsay winced. “I'm sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” He wanted to surge up and bang his head against the wall.

Lindsay put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don't.”

“I let him sucker me.”

“And now you're feeling like…without her you're…only half alive,” Lindsay murmured.

“Yes.”

“We'll help you find her, but not yet.”

Panic welled inside him, and he tried to struggle up again, but Jordan stepped quickly forward and pressed a hand firmly against his shoulder.

“You have a concussion. We've got to heal it before you can go anywhere,” the woman said. “Your head hurts, doesn't it?”

“Yes,” he whispered, looking at Jordan. “From that…mind zap you gave me.”

“Not just that,” Lindsay answered. “Someone hit you on the head and left you to die. Slowly, painfully. You would have done just that—if we hadn't found you.”

He winced.

“Lie back. We've started healing you. We need to finish.”

He didn't want to lie back. He had to find Anna. He was sure San Donato had her. He had no real proof. But he was sure the bastard had figured out their location and come to the island.

He'd captured Anna. Next he was going to steal her mind away. And Zach was the only person who could stop him.

Lindsay pressed a hand to his shoulder.

“Let us work on you,” she murmured. “Otherwise, you won't be any good to Anna—or to yourself.”

He made a frustrated sound. He could feel time slipping through his fingers like grains of sand that he could never recover. Every second that San Donato had Anna brought her closer to disaster.

Still, he knew that Lindsay was speaking the truth. Even the smallest movement felt like little men with pickaxes were banging away inside his head.

With a sigh, he lay down on the bunk.

Lindsay knelt beside him. Jordan walked forward to join her. They clasped hands, and Lindsay pressed the fingers of her free hand to Zach's forehead.

“Relax. Close your eyes,” she said as she stroked her fingers over his sweaty skin.

He did as she asked, knowing he was taking a chance. She had talents he had never dreamed of, and she could hurt him or heal him. She was the one who would make that decision.

He could feel power radiating from her, flowing into him like warm, honeyed syrup. It felt good. And as the healing energy enveloped him, he sensed something inside his head change for the better. He had been hurt. Now he was mending. And quickly.

“How are you doing that?” he whispered.

“We've been practicing. We can show you and Anna how to heal.”

He answered with a small nod, thinking that he had to get her back first.

Or was he kidding himself? Was it already too late?

RAOUL STRODE UP
the companionway and out onto the back deck. Two of the men he'd brought along nodded at him, and he nodded back but said nothing. They knew better than to disturb him unless he invited them to approach.

In the past few years, he'd done many services for his people—using the powers the gods had given him. And he was known on the island for his ability to curse an enemy or create a favorable outcome, like when he'd helped William Banda's son pass the test that would get him into a school on the mainland. He'd brought people back from the brink of death. And he'd caused deaths—with the help of the saints.

More than that, he'd sent money back to his village. Not just to individuals, but to the whole community. He'd built better houses for the people who lived there. He'd constructed vacation residences for rich people who wanted to get away for a week or a month—and have a ready pool of servants at their beck and call.

And he'd created an enclave where his followers could meet and worship the saints with him.

People in Palmiro and people still living up in the hills had come to rely on him to bring the favor of the gods into their lives. And when he'd needed this boat, some of his followers had borrowed it from a rich man who was not in residence now.

He'd earned the loyalty and the respect of his people. He had made himself their priest. And his power with them was more than Joe Hondino had ever commanded.

But his powers were nothing compared to what they would be when he joined his mind with Anna. She was already strong. And she would get stronger as he taught her the ways of the Blessed Ones.

He walked to the rail and stood staring toward Grand Fernandino as they motored in the direction of the island.

He had lied to Anna about being far from his base of operation, but he felt no guilt about telling her what he wanted her to believe. She had thought she could get away from him, but he had found her and brought her back. He would do anything necessary to keep her and bind her to him.

And the sooner the better. In her dream, he'd sensed another man and woman—offshore in a boat. Were they real? Or had she made them up? He couldn't be sure. But in case they were looking for Anna, he wanted her to be under his control before they found her.

Let her think that she had more time. Probably she was trying to figure out how she could escape him. But he had a little surprise he would spring on her very soon. And then there would be no more thought of escape.

One of the men came toward him, the man who had posed as a tourist earlier, and stood respectfully waiting for Raoul to acknowledge him.

He allowed half a minute to pass before saying, “Yes?”

“We'll be landing in two hours.”

“I want the grounds ready for the ceremony,” he said, expecting that his order had been obeyed.

“I spoke on the radio to Franco. The brothers and sisters up at the enclave are making everything ready for you now.”

 

ZACH
pushed himself to a sitting position. “I'm fine,” he snapped.

Lindsay looked doubtful. “Your head isn't completely healed.”

“This will have to do.” He swung his gaze to Jordan. “I have to find Anna.”

“I know. I know what you're feeling.”

“How could you?” he shouted, somehow keeping himself from making the protest physical. His emotions were barely under control, and the calm sound of Jordan's voice grated at his nerve endings.

Lindsay gave him an understanding look. “Because we've been through it,” she whispered. Closing her eyes, she clutched Jordan's hand, even as she pressed her fingers more firmly against Zach's forehead.

Panic shot through him as the bunk where he sat and the boat disappeared. He was in another time. Another place. Lindsay was in a room with cold stone walls, strapped to a chair, unable to move. A man stared down her. Casually he reached toward her and ripped her blouse open, manhandling her breasts.

Somehow, at the same time, from another vantage point, he saw Jordan, sitting in an office in the same building, facing two other men who kept their malignant gazes on him. And he understood that Jordan was struggling not to give away that he knew what they were doing to Lindsay in a basement cell. Because if they figured out Jordan and Lindsay could communicate when they weren't touching, they would kill them both.

As quickly as the images and impressions formed in his head, they snapped off, and Zach was left staring at the two people who had opened up their minds to him and let him share a few horrible and very personal moments of their life.

He gulped in a breath of air and let it out. “That happened to you?” he heard himself say.

“Yes,” Lindsay answered.

“And we got away,” Jordan added. “Otherwise, we wouldn't be here.”

“Who did that to you?” Zach asked.

“The man sitting behind the desk was Kurt MacArthur. He was the head of the Crandall Consortium. Years ago, they funded Dr. Remington's fertility clinic in Darien, Connecticut. The one we told you about.”

Jordan stopped talking, and Lindsay took up the narrative. “Jim Swift was standing behind him. When we burned down the Crandall Consortium headquarters building…”

Zach stared at her. “You burned down the building?”

“That was the only way we could escape. So you see, we're not afraid to take desperate measures to defend ourselves. For the record, someone else shot MacArthur and killed him. We escaped from the building, and went into hiding. We thought Jim Swift had died in the fire. But he survived, and he's going after any of the Dariens he can find.”

“Why?”

“He thinks we're…” He stopped and shrugged. “Well, I don't know exactly what's in his warped mind. But apparently he sees us as a threat to civilization as he knows it.

“For years, he was MacArthur's chief hit man. So we're assuming he was too badly injured in the fire to keep up the wet work on his own.”

Zach winced at the casually delivered assessment. Obviously, Jordan Walker's recent experiences had hardened his outlook on life. But the same was true for himself, Zach silently admitted. Until a few days ago, he hadn't been associated with any hit men.

“Well, the men who shanghaied us are dead. After we ditched in the sea, I slashed holes in the bottom of their raft. So I guess I took the same attitude as you. If I had to do it to save my life—and Anna's—I would.”

Lindsay let out a sigh. “They may not be dead.”

His gaze shot to her. “Why do you think so?”

“I can't be sure. But I feel…something.” She shrugged. “Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's just that Jim Swift is still out there. He was focused on Anna. He could have figured out that you bonded with her.”

 

ANNA
closed her eyes, taking deep, even breaths of air, the way she did before she got ready for her act.

She had gone to pieces. San Donato had
made
her go to pieces, and she'd better be ready to fight him when he came back.

But first, maybe she could get some information.

She couldn't move her hands more than a few inches, but she pressed her fingers against the comforter, trying to pick up memories the way she picked them up on stage.

She caught an image of a man, not San Donato, lying on the bed. She studied his face. He had gray hair, a narrow mustache, and a thick gold chain around his neck. A rich tourist. Or maybe someone who lived in Grand Fernandino part of the year?

He looked contented and prosperous. Probably this was his cabin cruiser, and he had no idea that a bastard named San Donato had borrowed it. Too bad she couldn't contact the guy and tell him that a gallery owner in town had taken his boat—and was using it to kidnap a woman.

A shiver went through her, and she was immediately sorry that she'd thought about herself. She gave another tug at her bonds, then flopped on the comforter, willing herself not to cry.

Zach. Oh, Lord, Zach. San Donato thinks he can bond with me. I won't let him,
she vowed, then couldn't help adding,
but I'm afraid of what he's going to do. Don't let him…

She couldn't put the next part into words. She was sure she knew what it was. But she didn't want to think about it. Not when she was lying naked and helpless on this bed.

So she struggled to pull her elbow toward the place where San Donato had been sitting. It took a long time, but finally she reached the spot.

When she did, she gasped.

 

ZACH
stood and paced to the other side of the room, then turned to face them.

For a moment he thought…

“What?” Lindsay asked.

“Just for a moment…I…”

“Was that Anna? Trying to reach you?”

“Yes!”

He squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated with every fiber of his mind. But it didn't do any good. Not now.

“Maybe we should talk about the Darien children a little more,” she suggested.

“Why?”

“So you'll understand better,” Jordan answered. “The more you know, the more effective you can be.”

Zach sighed. He didn't want to take a side trip into his own background. He wanted a direct line to Anna. But maybe Jordan was right.

“Bonding turned on our psychic powers. And yours, too,” Jordan said.

“But what about Anna?” Zach shot back. “She was already a psychic.”

“She was only using a tiny part of her talents. Joining with you made the difference. Together you were awakening her latent abilities—and yours,” Lindsay said.

“But we met earlier. When we were children.”

Lindsay blinked. “You did?”

“Not physically. I had an imaginary friend, and it was her.”

Jordan whistled through his teeth, then glanced at his wife. “Maybe we need to reevaluate some of our assumptions.”

“But not now!” Zach almost shouted. “Anna's gone, and we're sitting here and talking, instead of going after her.”

“Where should we go? Where is she?” Jordan asked.

Zach whirled toward him, his fear and frustration bubbling over. “I don't fucking know! That's the problem. I don't know. I got a flash of…something. But I don't know where it was coming from.”

“Maybe we can find her,” Lindsay murmured.

“How?”

“When we were on the run, one of the talents we developed was viewing a remote location.”

He didn't dare let hope bloom. Not yet. Still, he asked, “You mean like what San Donato did when he spied on us?”

“Yes,” Jordan answered. “Lindsay is better at it than I am.”

“I saw a friend of ours shot and killed,” she said, the horror of it bleeding into her voice and into her mind.

Zach winced. The more these people revealed, the more he understood what they'd been through. And they'd escaped with their lives. Together. If they could do it, so could he and Anna. He had to believe that was true.

“Jordan and I did the remote viewing together,” she said.

“Can you do it now?” Zach demanded.

Lindsay and Jordan looked at each other. Jordan was the one who answered. “We don't have a focus for the search. We were hoping you could direct the process.”

Zach slammed his fist against the bulkhead. “In other words, you're offering me false hope.”

“No!” Lindsay shouted. “But the question is, can you trust us enough to open your mind to us?”

That was certainly a big question. Jordan and Lindsay had dropped into his life, and they could be lying to him.

“No,” Lindsay said, and he knew she had caught the thought. “Trust us,” she whispered.

“What if I can't?”

Her face grew so sad that he felt his heart squeeze. And he knew in that moment that rescuing Anna meant more to her than he had imagined.

Before he could say anything else, she crossed the cabin and reached for his hand. Jordan seized both her hand and Zach's free hand.

At the three-way contact, Zach felt a shock go through him. Much like the sensation when he'd first touched Anna.

“We healed you. Now let us join with you,”
Lindsay murmured. Did she actually speak? Or did he only hear it in his mind? He didn't know. But he felt them opening to him, opening and sharing secrets that no person would willingly give up.

He saw Jordan as a boy—locked in a closet.

He saw Lindsay at a school dance, being pulled tight against a boy she couldn't stand.

He saw the two of them sitting in a restaurant, sharing the shock of touching. And then they were in a garden, wildly kissing—until an old woman yelled at them to cut it out.