Designed with a Destiny (9 page)

"The island. It's on fire and Cat is in
trouble. We have to go. We have to go now!" I cough reflexively as
if my own lungs are being choked with smoke, and repeatedly switch
back and forth between the burning island and the Freeman estate,
frantically searching for Cat in one and barking orders to Brandon
in the other, until I finally catch a glimpse of her brown hair
spilling across the ground, under Zane's arm. Everything from that
point on happens quickly. When she hears my voice, she begins to
cry, begging me not to leave her, and I am torn on whether to break
our mental connection in order to get to her by airplane.

"Dude, you can physically be holding her in
your arms within the next few hours if we leave now," Brandon says
convincingly, mobilizing me into action. This time, I make up my
mind that no matter what, I wouldn't come home until I could walk
through the door with her by my side.

“
Cat! Cat—are you okay?”
It’s the
strained voice of Ronan calling my name that causes me to lose
focus, and I instantly re-enter the state of consciousness
returning full force to the limp, lifeless body lying under Zane
Harrington.

“
Ronan, I can hear you. Where are
you?”
I respond telepathically, desperate to hear his voice
again.

“
Thank god you’re alive. I’m at the
Freeman Estate.”
The emotion in his voice matches that felt in
my heart and I begin to cry.

“
Please don’t leave me. Stay here—I can’t
bear being separated from you anymore.”
I sob in a release of
emotion
.

“
Cataryn—I’m coming to get you. Brandon
is getting the plane ready for flight. You’re on an island just
north of us, and I’ll be there within a few hours. Are you
hurt?”

“
I don’t know for sure. I can’t
move…”
I struggle under the dead weight of Zane and for the
first time consider that he might be dead. He moans indicating
otherwise.

“
Tell that jackass I said to get the hell
off my wife,”
Ronan growls, and I imagine if he were here
physically, Zane would find himself flying through the air right
about now.

“
Cat, you need to get out of that area.
There is fire burning all around you.”
He pauses before
continuing.
“Head east, towards the water. Don’t wait for him—if
he’s not able to keep up then let him burn. Do you understand?”
I won’t actually leave Zane to burn alive, but I don’t tell Ronan.
Instead I give a hard shove and Zane slowly rolls off the top of
me, grabbing his head in pain
.

“
Please hurry,”
I urge Ronan, even
while knowing the minute he’s in flight all telepathic
communication will be lost. The anticipation of being reunited with
him overrides my natural tendency to cling to the sound of his
voice.

“
Tonight you’ll fall asleep in my arms,
Mrs. Callahan. I promise,”
he says so gently that it makes my
heart ache.

“
You better make good on that promise,
Mr. Callahan.”

***

Zane moans again, and struggles to sit up,
when I tell him the trees are on fire. I take a deep breath and do
the same. Every muscle in my body aches, and my ears are still
ringing from the blast. Judging by the way he’s massaging his
muscles, Zane is experiencing a similar level of discomfort.
Somebody planted at least two bombs on Zane’s property and there’s
no question it was meant for us, not for the men who would have
been airborne had I not screwed with the engine on their plane. The
fire lights up the night sky so that even Zane has no trouble
seeing the aftermath of the explosion. Wordlessly, we look around
us at the debris and he shakes his head in disbelief when his eyes
come across a large piece of sheet metal only feet from where our
heads were. In every direction there is fallout of some sort
covering the earth except in the four by eight space where we lay.
Through the thick smoke billowing up from the burning jets we can
see the orange glow of fire above the tree tops, and it’s moving
our way. Zane cusses out loud. “It looks like the only way off the
island now is by boat,” he says grimly, glancing over at his
smoldering multimillion dollar jet. “We need to get to the west
side of the island. There’s a hidden cove where I keep a boat that
my father knows nothing about.”

“Zane, we need to go east, Ronan said that
everything on the west side of the island is burning,” I say. Even
in the dark, I see a brief flash of fear in his eyes.

“Ronan said…?”

“Yeah—he seems to have a way of finding me
when I’m in trouble,” I start to explain, then think better of
divulging our family secrets to a man not worthy of knowing.

“Did Ronan tell you that from where we are,
it’s about five miles to the eastern coastline? Did he tell you
that there’s nothing but rugged forest between here and there, and
with the northwest winds blowing at around eleven knots, we would
be devoured by flames in a matter of minutes if we head that way?”
he responds coldly. “I know every inch of this island Cat—perhaps
you should reconsider whose voice you’re going to listen to right
now.” He turns without saying another word and limps towards the
northwest leaving me with enough doubt that I slowly trudge after
him, discarding Ronan’s earlier instructions.

***

By the time Zane and I reach the other side
of the airfield, dodging dead bodies and wreckage that litter the
runway, the trees that we stood under less than thirty minutes ago
are engulfed in flames. I’m glad he doesn’t feel the need to say “I
told you so,” even though he must be dying to prove Ronan wrong.
The fire is dancing across the canopy of trees at breathtaking
speed, turning them into torches that resemble exploding Roman
candle fireworks. The noise is deafening, and Zane gives up trying
to talk to me, instead grabbing me by the hand to steer me through
the trees where the fire burned so fast, only the canopy was
destroyed. The thick acrid smoke fills our lungs with each breath,
and every few minutes we stop, overcome by violent coughing fits as
our bodies attempt to clear the resin.

“Here, wrap this around your face,” Zane
says, tearing his shirt in half, and handing me a strip. Although
saturated with smoke, I can still detect a hint of cologne in the
fabric and I welcome the buffer it provides against the layer of
soot raining down on us. His bare chest, a pale silhouette in the
smoky night, glistens with sweat, in spite of the rapidly dropping
temperatures, and I shiver in response, regretting that I ditched
his coat while racing to get to his father.

We walk several more yards before reaching
the clearing where his house once stood— now the only thing
remaining is part of the front porch, and a burned out shell of the
mansion. He stands staring at it for the longest time, before
sighing deeply and turning to me. “The beach is a few miles from
here. Do you think you can make it?” I nod yes. “We can sleep for a
few hours than sail up the coast. There’s a small village forty
miles away that charters planes into British Columbia. From there
we can track down my father which should lead us straight to
Chord.” Once again I nod, although I’m really only agreeing to part
of his plan. No sense in springing the news on him just yet—that
Ronan and the other Designers would be here soon to get me, and
take over the mission to find Chord—that I wouldn’t be sleeping
with him on his boat, or traveling by water. No—there’s no point in
gloating over the fact that in a few hours I will be sleeping in
the arms of my husband in my own bed somewhere far away from this
nightmare.

***

The only comfort I gain from being on Zane’s
thirty-foot yacht is the warmth it provides against the cold. We
walked close to three hours trying to find a route through the
burnt forest, during which time I fully expected a mental call from
Ronan, letting me know he was on the island. With each minute that
passes, my apprehension multiplies. Ronan would never leave me
hanging. He would insist on landing somewhere or anywhere to let me
know if he wasn’t coming.

“Ahem—are you finished with your plate?”
Zane asks watching me with curiosity. The yacht is well stocked
with canned food items and it took Zane less than twenty minutes to
throw together a pasta meal during which time he insisted I shower
and change into a set of clean clothes that are four sizes too
big.

Now, with a full stomach, I’m so drowsy that
I can barely keep my eyes open, and when I stand to help him clear
the table, my legs give out from underneath me, causing me to
collapse back down in my chair in a completely graceless
manner.

“Cataryn, you’re exhausted—you need to
sleep,” he says with a sincere level of concern. My resolve to stay
awake to wait for Ronan wanes and Zane easily overrides my last
weak protest, grasping my arm with one hand as he gently coaxes me
out of my chair and down the hall to the bedroom in the front of
the boat. The down feather bed feels heavenly after being on the
run for nearly eight hours and I am out cold the minute my head
hits the pillow.

***

“You son-of-a-bitch—I’ll kill you!” I hiss,
coming after Zane in the cockpit of the boat. He barely ducks in
time to miss a fifteen pound decorative duck decoy I happened to
snatch off a shelf on my way up to confront him, and it cracks the
navigation screen in the control station, before bouncing to the
floor. Zane calmly pulls back the throttle on the boat and gets up
from his seat at the helm, cautiously approaching me like I’m the
crazy one.

“You drugged me! You slipped these in my
food last night—why?” I shout, holding a bottle of prescription
sleeping pills in my hand. I already know the answer, and I am
sickened with the thought that I missed my telepathic call with
Ronan as a result.

“I didn’t…” His denial is lost when his body
flies back into the steering wheel at the mercy of a well-directed
surge of energy mixed with specific thoughts of anger and
violence.

“Cat, wait…” he says holding up his hand,
his eyes pleading me to stop. “Let me explain.”

“It’s too late Zane,” I say through clenched
teeth. “I was just beginning to trust you—I thought you were
changing.” His feet come up from beneath him, and his body lands
hard on the fiberglass floor, I repeat this process each time he
attempts to stand up. It’s an unmistakable misuse of telekinetic
energy and it shows when my own color screening eventually darkens,
weakening my energy until there’s no more power to continue my
assault. Only then, do I plop down next to him as he lies on the
floor, moaning and holding his rib cage. I’m too ashamed and mad to
even look at him.

“You did it because you knew Ronan was
coming for me,” I finally say, blinking back tears of
frustration.

“I did it because I’ve fallen in love with
you,” he replies softly. “I’ve fallen head over heels in love with
you, Cat.”

His announcement stuns me and I stare
silently down at my hands unable to speak. Still clutching his
chest, he sits up and gently grasps my chin turning my head until
my eyes meet his. “It’s not at all like me to chase a married
women…well any women for that matter,” he clarifies. “But you do
something to me Cat. I can’t explain it, but when I’m with you I
feel different. I know that your heart belongs to Ronan, but I
guess I had this crazy notion that the longer you were separated,
the less…”

CRASH!
The deafening sound of
fiberglass shattering against the rocks couldn’t be a more
effective distraction to the increasingly uncomfortable
conversation between Zane and me. Had we not already been on the
floor, we certainly would have ended up there from the impact, or
worse yet, overboard in the freezing water. This time when Zane
moans, it’s not from rib pain, and it’s quickly followed by a
string of profanity and self-condemnation as he struggles to get to
the controls of the yacht.

“Cat—go check the cabin and see if we’re
taking on water!” he yells, as he attempts to put the vessel in
reverse. Having spent enough time on a sailboat with my family, I
know all about emergency procedures while out at sea. I’m already
downstairs turning over cushions, bed mattresses, and checking
windows for signs of incoming water when he gives the command. My
heart sinks when I finally reach the front of the boat and see
water leaching through the carpet in the guest suite. I peer out
the port window to gauge our distance to land and figure it’s a
doable swim if hypothermia doesn’t set in.

“Hull is breached!” I holler up the stairs
and seconds later Zane is standing beside me, confirming the leak
by tapping his sneaker on the sloshy wet carpet.

“Can you put together a ditch bag? I’ll
radio for help,” he says in such a defeated tone I can’t help but
feel sorry for him.

***

The twin engine Cessna circling around to
make a second overhead pass is the most beautiful thing I have seen
in weeks. I jump up and down, and wave my arms, screaming at the
top of my lungs in a ridiculous manner that even Zane can’t help
smiling at. His Sea Ray yacht sits partially submerged on a reef,
thirty yards from shore. Thankfully, the thing was stocked with a
life raft that allowed us to bring essential survival gear to shore
and now the fire we managed to start is producing a column of smoke
that rises well above the tree line.

“They see us!” I squeal, laughing and crying
at the same time. I was able to connect a telepathic call with
Ronan shortly after we abandoned ship. He, along with Brandon and
someone named Austin had spent the night on Zane’s island trying to
find us—of course they happened to be searching on the opposite
side of the island. Strangely enough he doesn’t question my
unavailability during the night and I don’t offer an explanation.
All that matters to both of us is that the end of our separation is
in sight.