“What?” The front door flew open, and the man who answered was just as large as the rest, about seven feet tall, but with long, wild curly red hair and pale green eyes. He wore a red—not black—cloth around his waist and had no body art.
“What the hell do you want, Jason?” said the redhead.
So blond-guy who’d been carrying her was Jason.
“Hey, fucker.” Jason set Liv down on her feet and gripped her arm, pushing her forward. “This landlover drifted ashore during Shane’s watch. She’s a companion of Roen Doran—he’s here on the island.”
The redheaded man’s expression soured. “Another Doran? Is here?”
With the driest tone known to man, Jason said, “No, Holden. I just said that name because I’m a joker. Next, I’m going to juggle. Your spleen.”
The man standing in the doorway, Holden, scratched his short, scruffy, red beard and ignored the threat. “I don’t think we’ve ever seen this happen.”
Liv was careful not to move or breathe or do anything to stop their conversation. She wanted any information about these guys she could get.
“What do you think it means?” Holden added.
Jason shook his head. “Having two chiefs on the island at the same time can only mean one thing.”
Chief. They thought Roen was one of their leaders. What the hell?
Holden bobbed his thick head of wild red hair. “It means war.”
Jason grinned. “About fucking time.”
“Why would you say that?” Holden replied disgustedly.
“Some of us have been training for hundreds of years,” said Jason. “What’s the use of owning party clothes if you’re not going to the dance?”
Hundreds of years, Liv thought. That doesn’t make sense.
Holden folded his thick, ripped arms, and Liv noticed him pushing out his chest. “If the scriptures are correct, we all die. Not just the men and our maids, but the landlovers, too.” Holden took a step outside his cottage, just inches from Jason. “So think long and hard, Jason, about what you’re rooting for.”
“I root for anything that will end my suffering,” Jason said.
“She can be brought back,” Holden replied. “You simply have to be patient. And everyone must do their part to avoid a conflict when the time comes.”
Jason shook his head. “You’re wrong. She’s gone. And there’s no point hoping for anything else. No one will be free until we’re all dead and this goddamned place sinks to the bottom of the ocean.”
“Only a selfish asshole would wish his people dead, Jason.”
Jason pushed Holden, and Holden stumbled back a few feet into his doorway.
Shit. Liv felt her knees wobbling and her vision blinking out. “Hey,” she coughed out. “If you let me die, Roen won’t be happy.” It was a gamble that these men would even care, but they did seem to think Roen was someone important. A chief.
Both men stopped and looked at her.
Ohmygod. It worked.
“Please, I just need help,” she said. And I need to find Roen. Please let him be all right. Of course, she also knew she needed to be careful around Roen, too. The way he’d looked at her before those men had shown up set off alarm bells all over her body. At the same time, there was something about his possessive, hungry gaze that…that…did something to her. It was the strangest damned thing.
“Get the hell back on your side of the island,” Holden said to Jason, and then he grabbed Liv’s wrist and pulled her inside the cottage before slamming the door in Jason’s face.
Holden’s bare, chiseled chest rose and fell rapidly while he spewed profanities at the shut door.
“Do you have any water? Real water?” she asked.
Holden shook his head from side to side to compose himself. “Yes, of course. Right this way.” He led her into a small, but modern kitchen—granite counters, stainless steel appliances, glass cooktop.
This looks like my mom’s kitchen. Right down to the gray frosted-glass tile she’d had put in a few months ago as an early anniversary gift from her father. The puzzle of who these men really were kept getting bigger and messier.
He gestured for her to sit at a round breakfast table in the corner and then brought over a glass pitcher from the counter. He poured her a mug and handed it to her. Of course, she emptied the thing in one giant swallow.
“Can I have more?” She held out the empty mug with her shaking hand.
He refilled it, and she greedily drank it down, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. Water had never tasted so sweet.
“Thank you.” She set the empty mug down and then licked her lips.
Holden simply stared at her with curiosity. “So what brings you to our island?”
“I was shipwrecked.”
“And you drifted here?” There was a large dose of disbelief served with the question, which made her not want to answer. These people were quick to assign significance to everything. Including her.
“Can I have more water?” she said, to change the subject. “I haven’t had much to drink in five days.”
“Did anyone give you the other water we have on this island?”
She nodded. “Yes. What was in it?”
“You still feel ill?”
She nodded again.
He frowned and scratched his jaw. “No one knows what’s in it, but…” He kneeled in front of her and pulled down her lower lid. “Yes, I can see you’re still mildly dehydrated. And you’re sure you drank our water?”
“Yes. It healed my skin and made me feel good for a few minutes, but it wore off. And what do you mean you don’t know what’s in it?”
He shook his head. “There are many mysteries on this island, one being the fact that the water doesn’t seem to affect you like it does everyone else. May I try something?”
“If you give me more real water, yes.”
“I’ll give you juice in a few minutes. We don’t want to overwhelm your system.”
“What do you want to try?” she asked.
“This.” He leaned forward and kissed her hard, cupping his hands on the sides of her head to keep her from jerking away. His soft lips moved over her mouth.
“Gek-oh-mi!” Let go of me! she mumbled into his mouth and used what little strength she had to push him away.
He pulled back and stared at her with his large, light green eyes. “How was that?”
“Why did you kiss me?” Her eyes started scanning the kitchen for knives or some other weapon.
“I wanted to see what happened,” he replied.
“I’m terrified. That’s what happened,” she said bitterly.
He stood and then crossed his arms, staring down at her inquisitively. “You seem to be immune to us, too.”
“What sort of reaction were you expecting?”
“Let’s get you to my exam room.”
Hell no! She jerked back in her chair, readying to run for the door. Not that she’d get far, but they were all completely out of their minds.
He gave her a look. “I won’t harm you. I promise. My job is helping people, not killing them. That’s why I’m a doctor.”
“Did you really go to Harvard?”
“I know I don’t fit the image.” He swept his hand over his large, muscular, nearly nude body. “But nothing on this island is what it seems.”
Liv remained glued to the chair, debating how far she’d get if she chucked her mug at him.
“Listen.” Holden dropped his arms to his sides. “You don’t have many options. You’re on an island. You’re sick. And, frankly—” His eyes stuck to her shirt. “Is that your blood?”
Liv slowly shook her head. “Shane killed a shark.”
Holden smiled. “That explains the smell.”
Liv didn’t smile back.
“Okay. I’ll make you a deal,” he said, “let me do my job and help you. If you still want to run after I do, feel free. But we’d better hurry before Shane’s men come back for you.”
Maybe he was right. She needed to get stronger before she’d be in a position to fight or flee or find Roen. Still, she didn’t want to go anywhere with this man.
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “I promise, no more kissing.” He jerked his head, gesturing for her to follow. After a few moments, she hesitantly rose from the chair and walked down a narrow hallway into a small room with a gurney and modern medical equipment—heart monitor, oxygen tank, etc.
“Who are you people?” she asked.
“You’ll get your answers in good time—by the way, what should I call you?”
“Liv.”
He helped her onto the exam table and wrapped a band around her arm to take her blood pressure. “How did you meet Roen?”
She didn’t want to say anything that might undermine her story of belonging to him. “That doesn’t matter. But I’m his.”
Holden gave her a look. “Word of advice, Liv. Lying is a serious offense on this island. Especially if you’re a landlover. Stick to the truth, and you’ll have a better chance of staying alive.”
His words hit her panic button. Yes, she knew she wasn’t safe, but hearing him say they might kill her cemented that assumption right into the ground. She needed to pump this man for as much information as she could get.
He finished checking her pressure and then removed the band. “I’m going to put you on an IV and give you some more liquids. I think you’ll live, though.”
“How do you know I’m lying about Roen?”
“Because when a woman has been claimed, there are clear physical signs—none of which you have.”
This was ludicrous. “Do you brand them, rip out their tongues, what?”
“No. I’ll be right back with your juice. You just focus on resting.”
Rest. Yeah, right. She was stuck on an island in the most surreal situation she could ever imagine. No, actually. You couldn’t imagine. Not in a million years.
“Whoever you people are,” she said bitterly, “whatever you’re planning to do to me isn’t right. And I think you know it.”
Holden stopped in the doorway, his broad bare back to her. “Sorry,” he said with regret, “but you belong to the island now. Right and wrong don’t exist, only our laws do.” He then disappeared.
Okay. Liv had to start her plan of attack immediately. They were never going to let her go. But the other guy, Jason, had said he’d been with women. As in multiples. So if women came to this island and never left, where were they?
Dead. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He and Holden had spoken about some woman Jason had lost. And then that guy Shane had said there was only one way off the island for women. Her first thought had been “in a body bag,” so this confirmed it. They probably sacrificed the women or mutilated them or… Fuck. Something not-awesome.
Liv needed to get the hell out of there, which meant finding Roen because his ship was her only way home. However, that wasn’t the only reason. As strange as it sounded, she’d do just about anything to see him again and make sure he was all right. Even if it meant risking her own life.
That thought steamrolled right over her. Liv had always been generous with her heart, including when it came to helping strangers. But this thing with Roen felt so vastly different. It felt intense and magnetic and, well, deeply carnal. It was like Roen had reached inside her and touched a part of her soul she hadn’t even known existed.
Liv covered her face with both hands, groaning inwardly. Get a hold of yourself, Liv. It’s just the situation. Nothing more.
Regardless, she still owed it to Roen to help him, just like he’d helped her. As soon as she was able to stand straight, she would run for it and find him.
Hell or high water, we are getting off this damned island.
~ ~ ~
Roen awoke in a soft warm bed and stretched his body. It took a moment to register he was no longer in the mud being attacked by a group of ruthless barbarians.
He reached for the back of his head and warily touched the spot where he remembered receiving the first blow. There was no bump. Not even a bruise.
How’s that possible? The only explanation was that they’d given him that damned water. What the hell was in it? Whatever the case, people would kill, maim, and fight like hell to get their hands on something like that.
Roen slowly sat up, feeling a bit light-headed, and assessed the rest of his body. Naked body. Where the hell are my clothes?
Then he remembered something else that was missing: Liv. His heart began thumping wildly inside his chest.
Sonsofbitches. The thought of those vile assholes touching her sent a wild, possessive rage charging through him. No. He didn’t really know the woman, but she was his. And only his.
Roen shook his head. Mine? What the hell’s gotten into me? He was acting like a wild lion who’d had his kill stolen by a pack of hyenas. Liv was not his. This place is fucking with my bloody head. Still, savage animal-like feelings or not, he couldn’t let them do whatever they liked to her.
Wincing from a few tender spots along his rib cage, he slowly stood from the narrow bed and looked around the empty room. There wasn’t much except the drawn white curtains, paneled walls and the bed. He grabbed the bed sheet and wrapped it around his waist, placing his ear to the door before going out.
Nothing.
Slowly, he cracked open the door and tiptoed down the short hallway that led to a small living room. Aside from a wall of shelving filled with dusty books, there were two brown leather reading chairs, one occupied by a sleeping, scrawny old man wearing nothing but a piece of suede around his waist. His long gray hair cascaded down his bare shoulders and his scraggly silver beard reached his belly.
“Good. You’re awake,” the old man said in a scratchy, worn voice, leaving his eyes closed. “There are bands on the bottom shelf. You may pick whichever color you like.”
Roen’s eyes followed the man’s pointing finger to several stacks of folded red and black cloths. “Where is the woman I was with?” Roen snatched up a red cloth. He’d be damned if he went after Liv in a bed sheet.
“She’s with our healer.” The old man opened his dark green eyes and gestured toward the empty chair.
A healer? “What did you do to her?”
The old man bobbed his head. “I understand why you might think that of us, but we have our laws when it comes to women. Laws you’ll learn about soon enough.”
“Meaning I should simply trust that she’s not harmed—”
“She is not,” the old man interrupted.
“Or won’t be harmed?”
“I didn’t say that. I said we have laws. One of which is that women must give themselves willingly on this island, so you needn’t worry about that.”
When it came to this island, everything worried him. “I want to see her.”
“As I said, she’s resting, being treated for dehydration, and won’t be ready until tonight.”
Ready for fucking what?
“Come sit.” He gestured again toward the chair. “There is much to discuss.”
Roen didn’t have the patience for this conversation. God only knew what these savages were doing to Liv.
He moved to the door and pulled it open. Outside stood six very large men with long black hair and scale tattoos from their torsos down to their bare feet. They wore black cloths around their waists and held very sharp machetes.
Great. More of them. Roen rubbed his forehead. Obviously, he wasn’t going anywhere, and picking a fight with these men would earn him another beating. He’d be no use to Liv that way.
Roen slowly turned and walked over to the empty chair, the old man’s watchful gaze studying his every move.
“If I sit,” Roen said, “and have this conversation, will you let me leave and see the woman?”
The man smiled, revealing a set of very white teeth. “You are not our prisoner.”
“So I can go anytime I like?” Roen didn’t believe that for one second.
“The
island decides who stays and who goes. However, I have a feeling, my dear boy, that the island isn’t done with you yet.”
All right. So everyone in this place is insane. He wasn’t surprised. After all, his father was the one who’d led him here. It made sense, frankly.
“And what do you believe the island wants to do with me?” Roen asked, expecting nothing less than a crazy answer to the crazy question.
“The same as everyone else who finds their way here: she wants you to take your place.”
Crazy fuck. Roen clapped his hands together and stood. “It’s been a pleasure conversing with you, but I—”
“What do you know about your father’s relationship to this island?”
Roen’s best guess was that his father had gotten mixed up with these people just as he had with fifty other “Mother Earth” cults, environmental terrorists (who paraded around as green advocates), and other subversives he thought might be useful in carrying out his deranged plots to save the planet.
“He told you that the island needs to be protected,” said the old man.
“My father was insane,” Roen pointed out.
“Was he?”
“Without a doubt.” His father told anyone who’d listened that the ocean was dying and doomsday was coming. Because of this, he believed he had the right to kill, sabotage, and intimidate anyone he saw as the enemy—corporations who polluted the ocean, unscrupulous fishermen, even natural gas frackers who were responsible for releasing large quantities of methane—a compound that heavily contributes to global warming. He was arrested but never convicted of any crimes. Nevertheless, Roen knew, just like his mother and brother knew, that his father bombed factories, sank ships, and hired hackers to attack companies. People died because of him. Innocent people. And when some of those companies and families of those who died started coming after them—death threats, harassment, and having their home torched—Roen’s mother did everything she could to keep him and his little brother safe. They ran. Several times. But eventually, his father would find them. Eventually, his father’s enemies would, too. It was the stress and heartbreak that killed his mother. Of that he was sure.
“My father was a psychopath and a terrorist,” said Roen.