Come Fill Me (The Prophecy) Read Free Page B

learned what kind of man he really was and the truth of what he’d done. By then, it was too late to save her father or herself.
    She shuddered at the horrible memories, then started at Carreon’s touch. Without pause, Liz pulled her arm away.
    Undaunted, he captured her hand, resting it on his left thigh, his grip warning her not to deny him. Beneath her fingers, his thigh muscles jumped.
    He murmured, “You’re recalling our first time.”
    She wanted him dead but feigned indifference and glanced past. In one of the ubiquitous strip malls, a carnival was going full blast, the neon lights of its Ferris wheel and other rides flashing in festive yellows, greens, reds. Children shrieked in wonder. Calliope music played.
    Past the happy scene, the dying sun tinted the Organ Mountains an outrageous blend of gold and scarlet, deepening the shadows between its craggy peaks. The colors resembled a smoldering fire or an artist’s version of hell.
    “We had so much,” Carreon said.
    Caught between laughing derisively and clawing out his eyes, Liz fought to control herself. “How’s my father?”
    He squeezed her hand with fake concern. “Safe.” He smiled. “For the moment.”
    Twisting her wrist, Liz freed her hand, keeping it from him. “Do anything to him, and I swear you’ll regret it.”
    Carreon’s smile hung on, but danger blazed in his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
    Fucking A. “Harm him in the least, and you’ll never be safe from me, Carreon. I’ll make you pay.”
    Yellow beams from streetlamps cut across his face, silvering his eyes. They remained on her, reminding Liz of how a cat looks when regarding its next meal.
    Just as quickly, his menace passed as though it had never happened. Amusement flooded his features. “That’s what I always liked about you, Liz. Your foolish spirit.”
    “Don’t be so certain how foolish it is.” She spoke with the same airiness he had, matching the deadliness beneath it. “Remember, I’m the one with the healing gift, not you.”
    Something akin to rage—or perhaps it was fear—flickered across the sculpted planes of his face. It didn’t register in his response. In that same calm, maddening tone, he said, “You’ll do what I say, or your father will die. Remember that, Liz, and how I’ve dealt with my enemies in the past.”
    Revolted, she turned from him, recalling the rumors she’d heard. Until two years ago, Carreon’s father had been in charge. An ambush ended that while the man had been in bed with two of his mistresses. Bullets from assault rifles riddled all three bodies, tearing away parts of their heads and limbs. Although their hearts still beat for a time, the resulting injuries were so extensive only a miracle, not her or her father’s power, would have been able to repair them.
    Some said Carreon had ordered the attack. A few claimed he was one of the assassins. As with the other parts of his past, Liz had learned about his father’s murder too late, along with all of his other lies.
    With startling speed, she wondered if it were actually Neekoma she’d be healing tonight.
    What if it wasn’t? How would she know? She’d heard of the man but had never seen him, had no idea how he looked or even a remote indication of his age. Like Carreon, Zeke Neekoma allowed no one to photograph him, preferring to keep a low profile that ensured the success of his attacks.
    Leaving the city limits, the Escalade barreled through the desert in a northeasterly direction, toward White Sands, Alamogordo, Roswell. A route Liz knew well. Miles before all three locations was Carreon’s hidden estate.
    Gusts swept past the Organ Mountains, feeding the giant blades of a wind farm’s generators before buffeting the vehicle. Liz clutched the leather seat, knowing what to expect during this ride. Within minutes, the SUV jounced as its tires finally left the pavement and hit an unimproved surface road carved through an especially barren area.
    Nearly invisible