Pastor tensed. “You left her behind, DJ. What were you thinking? She’ll sing.”

“No, she won’t,” DJ said grimly. And if looks could kill . . .

He didn’t need evil looks, though. He had a gun. And possibly a bomb that he could detonate with his phone.

Pastor laid back, his shoulders sinking. “You killed her? Why?”

Liza remembered the woman mentioning the catching up she’d been doing. “All that news she was reading, probably. Did she see all the news reports on Mercy?” She shifted in her seat to meet Pastor’s angry eyes. “There are many, many reports. All you need to do is look online.”

“Who’s going to be our healer now?” Pastor asked. Then he smiled cruelly. “How about you, Liza? We’d have to keep you subjugated, of course. Can’t have you running your mouth to the community.”

“We threaten a kid,” DJ said. “She’ll do anything to protect a kid. Won’t you, Liza?”

Fuck. Divide and conquer just took a step back. “No. Many things, yes. Anything? No.”

“Just take care of our people,” Pastor said smugly. “And obey. And wear a locket.” His eyes brightened. “And marry me. Since my wife is now gone.”

Liza tried to think past the pounding in her head. This sucked. The thought of being Pastor’s anything made her sick. But it bought her time and that would have to be good enough.

Tom would find her. And in the meantime, she could help that girl whose baby was due any minute. Hayley. Her name was Hayley.

She forced her lips to curve. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“She’s lying,” DJ hissed.

“About what?” Pastor asked mildly. “That she’s willing to be our healer? My wife? Or that Mercy is alive when you said you’d killed her?”

“Yes.” DJ’s jaw was taut and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “All of that. Every word is a damn lie.”

“Well. I don’t think she’s lying about Mercy, but you can easily fix that once we’re all safely in Eden. And then we’ll talk more.” Pastor closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. “As for our new healer, she’ll come to heel eventually. Get me home, DJ. I’m tired of all of this.”

DJ shot her a venomous look and Liza swallowed hard. Fantastic.

At least she was alive. For now.

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

TUESDAY, MAY 30, 2:25 P.M.

“Where are we going?” Croft asked.

Tom clutched the wheel like a lifeline. Because it was. It was taking him to Liza. “Eden.”

Motherfucking DJ Belmont. If he’s touched one hair on her head . . .

“Okay,” Croft said. “I’d question that, considering we don’t know exactly where it is. But you’re in a shitty headspace, so I’m gonna let it go. What will you do when we get there?”

Kill DJ Belmont. “I don’t know.”

“That’s honest, at least. Let’s plan some scenarios, shall we? Like we’re professionals and not driving like crazy people up State Route 70 because Eden is ‘somewhere up there.’ ”