Believe: The Complete Channie Series (164 page)

Jonathan

J
ONATHAN
KNEW
R
IVER
WASN
’
T
TRYING
to humiliate him. It was easy to see from the panicked expression on her face that she was in big trouble. He should have just cut Eli’s throat when he had the chance. He’d killed in Afghanistan, but that was different. This wasn’t a war zone. His life wasn’t in any immediate danger. If he killed Eli now, it would be in cold blood.

Eli folded his arms across his chest. “Do you know what it means to be a recruit, outsider?”

Jonathan shrugged. It didn’t really matter. He had no intention of joining their crazy cult.

River spoke up, blurting her words out in a rush. “Most of our men have impaired fertility. About half of them are sterile.”

“River…” Eli dragged her name out, a clear warning to keep quiet. Which, of course, she ignored.

“Our numbers are too small to sustain the population without resorting to inbreeding.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and slid her hands down its length.

“Whoa.” Jonathan tore his gaze from River’s thick, shiny braid to her eyes. “Are you saying…you want me to make babies?”

Eli laughed, but the sound was harsh, more like a bark. “Don’t get too excited, outsider. You have to pass a battery of tests before you’d be allowed to service a servant.”

Servicing servants?
Jonathan immediately pictured Mom’s forty-something housekeeper and shuddered. He didn’t care if they offered him a room full of beautiful, young virgins. No way would he join that group of freaks. Didn’t cults use sex as a lure for recruits? Yeah, nice try, but not falling for it. He needed to figure out how to stall long enough to come up with an escape plan. “What kind of tests?”

“Your first test is to see if you’re strong enough to survive a complete cleanse.”

“What does that mean?”

Eli put the kettle back on the stove then opened a cabinet stacked floor to ceiling with glass jars. He pulled one out and grinned. “We’ll start with a purge.”

Jonathan didn’t trust Eli not to poison him. He’d already tried to kill him. “No way.”

“When you agreed to be River’s recruit, you promised to obey all the doctrines, precepts and covenants of New Eden.”

New Eden?
Jonathan’s suspicions were correct. It was definitely a cult. If he didn’t go along with it, River would be in trouble. If he drank the kool-aid, he could wind up dead. “I want River to prepare it.”

“I don’t know how.” River’s eyes widened as she shook her head; but then a slow smile spread across her face. “Make enough for two people, Eli. You’re doing the cleanse with Jonathan.”

Eli narrowed his eyes. “There’s no reason for me to do a full cleanse.”

“Where have you been for the past two weeks? Red Cliff?”

Eli slammed the jar of herbs onto the table. “What do you know about Red Cliff?”

“I know it’s where you go to indulge in forbidden pleasures.” River slid her hand into her fur-lined glove then snatched a Snicker’s candy bar wrapper out of Eli’s pocket.

A crimson flush spread across Eli’s cheeks as he tried to grab it away from her.

River dodged his grasp and shoved the wrapper between her vest and her shirt. “I wonder what Reuben will say when I show him this?”

If Eli was going to get the wrapper back, he’d have to feel her up. He fisted his hands and glared at her. “That’s not mine.”

“Now, who’s the liar?” River’s smile turned deadly. “You need to purge the foreign food from your system before it poisons you.”

Jonathan was glad he wasn’t the one pissing her off.

Eli ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe an extreme cleanse isn’t necessary. He’s been here for over twenty-four hours with no symptoms of illness, correct?”

Jonathan wanted to bury his fist in Eli’s nose. “It’s strange how that part just slipped your mind when I was the only one purging, huh buddy?”

“Watch your tone with me, outsider. You have no idea who I am.”

“Sure I do. You’re the guy that can’t hold onto his own knife.” Jonathan kept Eli in his peripheral vision as he spoke to River. “I still don’t trust him. He could slip something extra into my dose.”

River smiled. “Once he’s brewed the emetic, Eli isn’t touching it. I’ll pour and serve each dose.”

It wasn’t ideal, but Jonathan trusted River. “How long is this going to take?”

Eli wiped the back of his hand over his brow. “Eight hours, but it’ll feel like two weeks.”

After
two hours of projectile vomiting into a bucket, Jonathan was too weak to sit up. He dry heaved for another hour before he could swallow the snow River kept trying to spoon down his throat. It took another three hours before he managed to keep any of it down. By then he would have welcomed death. His only consolation was that Eli was every bit as sick as he was.

When it was finally over, River brought Jonathan a cup of chamomile tea. She supported his head and shoulders as he sipped the comforting brew. She leaned in close. Her breath tickled his neck as she whispered, “Thank you for going along with this.”

Jonathan nodded then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, sunlight streamed in through the single window by the door. He sat up and shielded his eyes. Eli was dressed and seated at the small table in front of the stove. There was no sign of River.

Jonathan crawled out of bed and checked the upper bunks. The middle one was unmade, but empty. “Where’s River?”

“Hunting.”

Jonathan jammed his feet into his boots then headed towards the door without tying them. He grabbed his coat off the peg on the wall and pulled his glove out of the pocket.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eli took a sip from his steaming cup.

“To help her.”

“How? By scaring off the game?”

Whatever was in Eli’s cup smelled so good it made Jonathan’s mouth water. “Is that soup?”

Eli stared at Jonathan over the rim of his cup as he drained it. He smacked his lips then nodded at the other cup on the table. “That one’s for you.”

The aroma kicked Jonathan’s salivary glands into overdrive, but there was no way he was going to drink anything Eli offered. “No, thanks.”

“What’s the matter, outsider? Is your palate too sensitive for venison broth?”

“I’m not hungry.” Jonathan’s stomach growled in denial, but for all he knew, the broth could be full of rat poison.

Eli grinned and picked up the cup. “Well, if you don’t want it…” He took a sip then sighed with obvious pleasure as he set the cup back on the table. “I’ve been awake for hours. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”

He had a point.

Jonathan tossed his coat onto the bed then fetched the cup off the table. He took a sip and rolled it around on his tongue then chugged the rest of it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you keep calling me an outsider? I was born and raised in Leadville.”

“You have no idea how far away that is.”

The trailhead where Jonathan had parked his car was at least sixty miles from his destroyed campsite. He’d hiked another fifteen looking for shelter before he ran into the mountain lion. He’d been so disoriented with hypothermia he had no idea how far he and River had hiked—or in what direction. “It’s not more than a hundred miles...is it?”

“Why? Are you thinking about running away?” Eli’s eyes flashed a brighter shade of blue. “You better be sure you can succeed before you try, because if you leave during my watch, I’ll hunt you down and carve you into bite-sized pieces and feed you to the crows. Do you understand?”

Jonathan nodded. He understood alright. If he escaped while River was gone, Eli would be in trouble, not her. He didn’t want anyone to be brutally punished, not even Eli, but Jonathan wasn’t the one that made up the rules. He wasn’t the one threatening to feed people to the birds either.

“Why do you hate me so much? You don’t even know me.”

Eli leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Because recruits are a pain in the ass and I have enough to worry about without taking on more responsibilities.”

“I’m River’s recruit, so I’m her responsibility, not yours.”

“River’s problems become my problems the instant she becomes my mate.”

Jonathan’s mouth fell open. He snapped it shut then leaned against the wall, trying to look as if Eli’s announcement hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed.”

Why did that bother him so much? And why hadn’t River mentioned she was
betrothed
when she was quizzing Jonathan about his relationship status. He’d assumed her silence on the subject meant she was single. Actually, he’d assumed it meant she was interested in him. Yeah, right. Sure, he and River had shared a couple of tender moments. She’d taken better care of him during the purge than she had Eli, but that didn’t mean anything. Eli’s whining was so annoying it would have driven off his own mother.

“When will River be back?” Jonathan sighed then cracked his neck, as if he were bored.

“Not until dark. She loves hunting.”

Perfect. “If she gets a deer, how’s she going to get it back here? Did she borrow your horse?”

“I doubt she’ll bag a deer in one day, but if she does, she’ll field dress it and bring back the best cuts, leaving the rest for the wolves.”

Fantastic. “Until I saw that black wolf in my family’s mine, I had no idea there were wolves in Colorado.” Jonathan stretched and yawned and moved a little closer to Eli.

Eli narrowed his eyes. “Knocking a wolf out with a rock was nothing but pure, dumb luck. So was disarming me.”

Jonathan reached forward as if he were going to set his cup on the table then slammed his elbow into Eli’s temple.

Eli’s eyes rolled up into his head.

“How’s that for pure, dumb luck?” Jonathan propped him back up then unlaced Eli’s boots and used the rawhide laces to bind his hands and feet to the chair.

It took him a lot longer to do it with one hand, but at least he got it done. Eli wasn’t going anywhere until River came back and untied him. By then, Jonathan would be long gone.

He put his coat on, fastened the toggles and slipped his hand into his glove. River had taken care of Eli’s horse during their purge so he had no problem finding the barn. He just followed her tracks.

Jonathan hadn’t been on a horse in years, but knew how to ride. He and Franklin spent every summer between their sixth and fourteenth birthdays on Granddad McKnight’s horse ranch...until mixed martial arts took over their lives.

Jonathan’s confidence plummeted when he didn’t find a saddle in the barn. He didn’t find a bridle either, just a hackamore. This was going to be more challenging than he thought. But there was no going back. Not after knocking Eli out and tying him up.

At least the horse looked friendly.

Jonathan had heard Eli and River refer to the gelding as Old Red, so he called him by name then walked up to him and let him sniff his face. Jonathan was in a hurry, but a little time spent getting acquainted could be the difference between getting away, or getting thrown.

It was hard to determine the horse’s breed. He stood about fifteen hands and had the muscular body of a quarter horse; but with a curly coat and a dread-locked mane. Jonathan had never seen a horse quite like this one.

Red twitched his ears forward and blew steam out his nose. He didn’t object when Jonathan slipped the hackamore on, or ran his hand over his back.

“I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

Jonathan wrapped his hand in the horse’s mane and tried to swing onto his back.

Red laid his ears flat against his neck and shied sideways.

“Oh come on!” Granddad McKnight had taught Jonathan to approach a horse from his “near” or left side and to always mount from that side as well. He didn’t know why it was such a big deal, but some horses refused to let a rider mount from the right. Apparently, Red was one of those horses.