Read Beyond Fearless Online

Authors: Rebecca York

Beyond Fearless (24 page)

The newcomers eyed her appraisingly, and she felt her stomach clench. Hating the expectant look on their faces, she turned her head away quickly, glad of the robe.

“Let's go.” Evelyn gestured toward the door. When Anna hung back, Wilhelmina grabbed her arm and marched her through. The men took up the front and rear of the procession, and the little parade made its way up the companionway and onto the deck.

As she walked, Anna silently appealed to the men and women guarding her.

This is kidnapping. Don't you know you can get into bad trouble for this? What do you owe San Donato? He just wants to use you, the way he wants to use me.

Anna repeated that mantra and more choice words. The message didn't seem to be getting through to anyone around her.

She fought the sick feeling rising inside her. When she stopped walking, the woman behind her pressed against her back.

“Come.”

She started forward again, feeling like a farm animal being led to a slaughterhouse.

Her gaze darted from side to side, and at least she saw no sign of San Donato.

They climbed a short flight of stairs to the back deck of the boat, which was about fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long.

Evelyn held her right arm as she stood there on the teak boards. Raising her head, Anna surveyed the scene around her. She saw houses with lighted windows. Beyond them was dense darkness, maybe the jungle. It looked like the boat was docked at the end of a pier that jutted about twenty yards into the water. She could see a light at the end.

The man at the front of the line spoke to someone, and the group halted.

For a moment, no one seemed to be looking at her. Wrenching herself away, she dashed to the rail, dragging in air, and jumped over the side. The white robe dragged her down as soon as she hit the water, but as she sank, she fumbled with the belt and pulled it free, then wiggled out of the robe and let it float away.

Above her she heard shouting, the voices distorted by the water.

“Hellfire!”

“She got away.”

“Over the side.”

“Get her.”

The sharp order came from San Donato, and she knew he had been at the end of the dock waiting to gloat over her arrival.

She swam under the dock, came up on the other side, and took a breath before going down again.

Should she head into the sea? Or was her best chance on land?

Too bad she didn't know more about this damn place. Or about the island.

But she figured that she'd be in more danger on land. So she struck out in the water, angling away from the shore, hoping the darkness would hide her.

For a few minutes, it seemed to work. Then she saw a light skimming over the water.

When it focused on her, she dived again, going deeper, changing the angle of her strokes, thinking that she would go farther out in the water, then head back to the shore. If they'd found her in the water, she'd take her chances on land.

“Come back,” a loud voice boomed, probably augmented by a bullhorn.

She had no intention of obeying.

And now she had another goal. She'd lost contact with Zach, and that had been part of the reason for her despair. But once she'd gotten free of San Donato's prison, she sensed Zach—speeding toward her.

She was sure he was out there. In a boat. In her mind, she could see him standing at the wheel, urging the craft forward.

Or was she making that up because she wanted so desperately for it to be true?

As she swam away from captivity, she plowed some of her energy into contacting him.

Zach? Zach? Can you hear me?

At first, there was no answer. She wanted to cry out in frustration, but she didn't waste the energy. Instead, she tried again, and this time she was rewarded with the sound of his voice inside her head.

Yes! Thank God. Did you get away?

Yes. I'm coming. I'm coming to you.

Are you all right?

Yes.

When she heard splashes above her, she began swimming faster. Behind her, lights flashed on the waves.

More people were coming into the water, looking for her. But did they know where she'd gone?

She was praying they didn't—and that the light wouldn't find her.

Her only option was to keep swimming, and hope that Zach could get to her before San Donato's followers caught her. But after being tied down to the bunk for so long, her muscles felt flabby, and she could already feel her energy flagging.

 

“SHE
got away. She's swimming toward us. Thank God,” Zach called to the other people on the boat.

He felt a tremendous sense of relief. Still, he couldn't relax until Anna was with him. Leaning forward, he stared into the darkness, straining his eyes, trying to see her—even when he knew she was still too far away for visual contact.

“Maybe I can spot her.”

When Zach reached for the lights, Jordan grabbed his hand. “Don't.”

“I need her to see us, so she'll know where she's going.”

“If you shine a light on her, you'll give away her location.”

“Christ! You're right.”

“The two of you are telepathic. Focus your thoughts on her. Don't turn on the light until she's closer,” Jordan suggested.

“And another thing,” Lindsay added. “You don't want them to know you're here.”

“What does it matter?” he asked, triumph welling up inside him. Anna had done it. She had gotten away from the bastard who'd kidnapped her, and she was swimming away as fast as she could. Toward Zach. The man she belonged with.

“Come on. You can do it. Come on,” he shouted across the water.

He was starting to breathe easy—until she screamed, and his heart leaped into his throat, choking off his breath.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

A BLOODCURDLING SCREAM
ripped from Anna's mouth as a hand caught her leg. Kicking out, she tried to dislodge the fingers that closed around her ankle and pulled her under.

She tried to gasp in a breath of air, but she went below the surface too quickly.

The water churned around her. The hand that had yanked her down pulled her up, and someone threw a cloth over her head. It smothered her senses, smothered her brain. All at once, she couldn't put two coherent thoughts together.

Strong hands grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up into the small boat. She was naked and dripping except for the cloth over her head.

She lay there sprawled across something hard—a seat. Someone threw a blanket over her naked body, covering her face.

Then a harsh voice spoke. “Take her back. Make her ready for the ceremony. Now.”

She cringed away. It was San Donato. And he was sitting right beside her.

The cloth over her head felt like it was choking off her breath, choking off coherent thoughts. San Donato pulled the fabric up, exposing her face, leaving the top of her head covered as he took her chin in his hand and turned her toward him.

“Did you really think you could get away from me?”

Her lungs burned. Her pulse thundered in her throat. When her lips moved, no sound came out.

She had tried to escape. And this is where it had gotten her—closer to doom.

The boat jerked, then leaped through the water, cutting a wide circle, and she knew they were heading back to the shore. Away from Zach and toward the end of her life as she knew it.

I tried. I'm sorry. I tried.

She had no idea if her silent words had reached Zach. The only thing she knew was that it took too much energy to say more, when the covering was smothering her mind. She closed her eyes and sagged back against the seat. She had thought she would kill herself if it came to this. The fabric over her head suffocated her determination. It felt like the clinging material was an extension of the man who loomed over her, like he'd infused an inanimate object with his will.

He made a rough sound and moved, making the boat rock dangerously. But he didn't seem to care.

He spoke into a radio or something, and she could hear him giving orders to people on the land.

“I don't want to go up to the village. It want this finished as soon as possible. We'll use the walled enclosure down here. Set up an altar there. Make sure it's ready for the marriage ceremony.”

As he spoke, the boat lunged forward. Soon they were bumping up against a solid barrier.

The dock? The shore?

San Donato stood and climbed out of the boat. She could hear him berating someone.

Good, she hoped they got in big trouble. At least that gave her some satisfaction.

“You fool! You should have been guarding her.”

A man answered, his voice high and scared. “We thought…”

The lash bit through the air, and the underling screamed. San Donato slashed at him over and over, and Anna cringed. The man had been calm, but he was losing control of himself.

Then San Donato bellowed an order, and someone scurried forward.

Strong hands lifted Anna up and hauled her onto the deck, and the cloth fell back, partly exposing her face to the night air. She saw San Donato talking to someone, and when he stepped aside, she gasped. It was Etienne Bertrand.

She blinked, trying to focus on his face. “You…did…this…to…me,” she managed.

His expression was stony.

“Why? What did I do to you?”

“You were perfect for my master.”

“Your master! What are you, a slave?”

“No,” he answered, his voice low and hard.

“You're fooling yourself.”

Two strong men grabbed her arms and marched her along the boards.

Neither of them let go of her until she had been hustled into a house and down a darkened hall, where they pushed her through a door into a brightly lit room.

The ceremony?

She shuddered, made an effort to focus on her surroundings, and found she was in a large, well-appointed bathroom. The walls were marble. The counter was black granite, with white double sink bowls. And there was a separate Jacuzzi tub and a stall shower large enough to wash a small automobile.

The three women who had come to her cabin in the boat were waiting for her, their eyes narrowed as they stared at her. They wore the same white uniforms, only now they had thin rubber gloves on their hands.

“You betrayed us,” Evelyn said, her voice sharp. “He was angry with us.”

Anna shrugged, and the cloth that had half fallen off her head hit the floor. Desperately, she tried to clear her thoughts. As soon as the cloth was gone, she felt some of her intellect come back. Raising her chin, she said, “I'm in love with another man.”

“That is very foolish, when our priest wants you for his bride.”

The word “bride” made her cringe. “I don't want him.”

“You will,” Evelyn said in a strangely calm voice. She flicked her hand, and Maria stepped to the shower and turned on the water. It came pouring out of a rounded fixture like rain.

While Maria adjusted the water, Evelyn pulled the blanket away and tossed it across the counter.

Evelyn and Wilhelmina each took one of her arms and led her into the shower.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up and making you look nice.”

“For what?”

Nobody answered.

Fear leaped inside Anna's breast. But despite her roiling emotions, the water pouring down on her felt good. Still wearing her white uniform, Maria stepped into the shower, poured lemon-scented shampoo into her hands, and began to wash Anna's hair.

She washed it quickly, rinsed it off, and finished with an application of conditioner and another rinse.

As Anna stood under the water, a pungent smell made her head jerk up. She saw Evelyn pour a thick white liquid from a small bottle and lather her gloved hands.

“What's that?”

“Fire soap.”

“What?”

“You'll like it.” When her hands were sudsy, she stepped into the shower and stroked her hand over Anna's shoulder. The moment the lather touched her skin, she felt as though she'd been touched by a handful of itching powder.

When she tried to jump away, Maria held her in place.

“Don't fight it.”

“Please, no. What are you doing to me?”

“Making you ready for our priest,” Evelyn answered, working the lather down Anna's back, making her skin burn, then switching to the front, lathering her chest, her breasts, her abdomen.

At first it burned. Then it settled down to a sizzling, erotic heat that caught her in its grip.

Evelyn reached lower, sliding the soap through Anna's pubic hair and between her legs.

“Don't.”

“Relax. It feels good, doesn't it?”

“No.”

“Liar!”

“Don't…do…this to me.” Panic clogged her throat as she tried to twist away, but Maria held her in place.

Evelyn slid her hand over the curve of Anna's ass, then stroked up and down the crack between her cheeks.

“We want you all nice and clean for the priest,” she murmured. “And all nice and hot, so you'll be pleased by his attentions.”

“Please. No.”

“It's too late. The fire soap sinks through your skin, into your blood.”

Anna looked down, seeing that her nipples had tightened. Maria followed her gaze and laughed.

“You look all sexy.”

“Let me go!”

“And what will you do? You need a man now. Don't lie about it.”

“No.”

“Oh yes. You need our priest, to satisfy the heat in your blood.”

Anna made a whimpering sound. Maria was right. She was aroused. Not because she wanted to be, but because the soap was laced with some damn aphrodisiac drug.

She reached down, rubbing at her skin, trying to rub it away, but her fingers only inflamed her further. Her body was on fire and her brain had started to fog again. When she slumped back against the wall of the shower, Wilhelmina caught her.

“You'll be better soon. After he makes love to you at the ceremony. He'll make you come again and again.”

“God, no.”

Maria turned off the water. Wilhelmina brought a large towel and wrapped her in it, drying her body while Maria used another towel and then a handheld dryer.

Wilhelmina dried her arms and back, then swished the towel over her nipples. Need shot through her. And when the towel stroked between her legs, she felt her knees buckle.

“Enough,” Evelyn ordered. “We don't want to make her come. Not yet.”

God, yes. Please do that.
She couldn't stop the plea from shooting through her mind. She had never felt her body clamoring more urgently for release. And there was nothing she could do about it.

 

ZACH
cut the engine, and they drifted toward the pier. The moment the boat bumped against the dock, he jumped out and secured the line.

Jordan and Lindsay followed, leaving the captain they'd hired. The man was nervous. Even if he'd agreed to go along, it was obvious he didn't want to anger San Donato. But they were paying him a fortune, and he wouldn't get the rest of the money until they returned to Palmiro.

Jordan wanted to leave his wife behind. But they needed her powers.

They had landed in a small village—not of native huts but of grand houses. This must be a rich man's enclave. Maybe even property that San Donato owned. The compound seemed empty, but there were probably guards on duty.

“They've taken her up to the real village,” Zach whispered. He wanted to switch on the flashlight he was carrying, but unlike when he'd been out in the water, he knew that was a bad idea.

So they stood for a few moments letting their eyes grow accustomed to the darkness. Then they started toward the enclave.

There must be a road,
Zach said, glad that he didn't have to actually speak the words. He'd spent enough time linked with Jordan and Lindsay that he could silently communicate with them.

They looked around, then saw a path winding upward through the trees. When they started in that direction, a figure detached itself from the shadows. A man holding a gun.

 

THE
women picked Anna up and laid her naked on a flat surface, a stretcher. And when she tried to press her legs together and give herself some relief, they moved them apart, fastening her ankles to the sides the way she'd been fastened to the bed, only the stretcher was more narrow than the bed on the boat.

When she tried to slip her hand down her body, they snatched it away, securing her wrists to the sides so that she couldn't touch herself.

Maria quickly used a dryer and brush on her hair, then brought a bouquet of small orchids and studded them around the top of her head.

“You look very pretty,” she murmured.

Evelyn brought a gauzy piece of fabric and laid it over her body. Even that light touch made her nerve endings twitch.

“He'll give you release soon,” she promised, then turned away and stripped off her wet clothing. The other two women did the same. When they were dressed in dry white gowns, Evelyn opened the door.

More women were waiting outside. They looked excited as they lifted the stretcher and carried Anna down the hallway, then outside, where the cool evening air hit her skin. It felt good. But it wasn't enough to quench the flaming inferno that had become her body.

She could see the moon and the stars above her, see the light of torches flickering around her, as though she were the star attraction in some pagan ceremony.

No, not
as though
.

It was real. All too real.

The women carried her behind one of the houses to a fenced-in area. She sensed people around her, men and women, some dressed in white like the attendants who carried the stretcher and some wearing colorful clothing. And she smelled the scent of sweaty skin and arousal filling the enclosure. Not just her own arousal.

These people were turned on. And they were going to do something about it. But not yet. Not until after they watched the damn ceremony where San Donato inflicted himself on her.

 

ZACH
faced the guard, wondering if he was going to take a bullet in the chest. Had San Donato told these guys to shoot first and ask questions later? Or what?

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