Tangled Fates (19 page)

ability to think things through and see consequences for actions. Dumb just acted.

There wouldn’t be any sit-downs to talk things through.

The intercom beeped on the table, and Talin reached over and hit a button on the black

box, bringing the War Room in Phoenix to life on the big, white screen. Jovan, Noah, and

Rayner all sat around the black marble table there as well.

One thing Blake appreciated about the Six Saviors was that they kept things standard. He

couldn’t tell the difference between the War Room on the screen and the War Room he sat in. He

liked the consistency.

“Hey, guys,” Noah said with a smile. “Just got the message a little while ago that we

needed to have some face-time. What’s up?”

Blake looked at the three on the screen. All were leaned back in their leather chairs either

with their hands behind their head or their legs stretched out in front of them, lazy smiles on their

faces. Their SR44 colors glowed from their eyes.

Then he looked at Talin and Hudson. Both sat ramrod straight at full attention, their faces

dead serious, their eyes also glowing.

Contradiction, anyone? Their lackadaisical attitude bugged the shit out of him, but he had

to remember that they hadn’t heard the news yet.

“I heard from Annis,” Blake began.

“Yeah, we saw her leave the party with Cohen last night,” Noah said.

“This seriously isn’t about that, is it Blake?” Jovan asked, leaning forward. “I mean, if

she left with Cohen on her own, she’s pretty much made her choice. We’re not going to interfere

in her—”

“They were captured by The Platoon,” Hudson interrupted. “Blake got a call about an

hour ago from Annis. Cohen’s been shot.”

All the once-relaxed men on the big, white screen sat up at full attention. Gone were the

lazy smiles and kicked-back postures. Nope, full business mode had taken over, and Blake was

happy to see it.

“What did she say?” Noah asked. “Is Cohen alive?”

“She said they were being held by The Platoon, Cohen was still unconscious, and that

those rat-bastards had some demands,” Blake said.

Jovan’s eyes narrowed. “I bet.”

“And?” Noah said.

“And they want you, Noah. They specifically want you, and the rest of the Saviors would

be a nice bonus.”

Noah was quiet and looked down at the table.

“Well, we know that’s not going to happen,” Rayner said. “We need to find a way to get

them out. Where are they?”

Blake shook his head. “Annis didn’t know. At the end of the conversation, Micah said he

would call back tomorrow. He didn’t give a time.”

Talin stood up and went over to the bank of computers.

“Talin, put a trace on Blake’s phone and let’s see if we can pinpoint where these fuckers

are,” Noah said, still looking down at the table.

“On it,” Talin said.

“How’s Beverly?” Noah asked Hudson.

“Better.”

Noah turned toward the door. “Abby!” he yelled. A moment later he said, “Hey, honey,

can you get a plane for Hudson and Talin down here?”

Blake heard muffled talking, and Noah turned to the screen. “Blake, you don’t need to

come. It would be like walking into a hornets’ nest. You stay tucked away up there.”

Blake shook his head. “I’m going down there, Noah.”

There was a beat of silence. “Are you sure you want to do that, my friend?” Jovan asked.

Blake nodded. “Dead sure.”

He and Annis might never be lovers, but he cared deeply for her, and he was certain he

always would, even if she couldn’t return the feelings. His life would be empty without her, and

he would fillet The Platoon to get her back.

Chapter 30

Cohen lay on the bed in the middle of a heavy fog. He didn’t know where he was, but he

knew in his heart that the fog represented his vow to Mia.

Someone was walking toward him. He could hear the swish of fabric caressing skin, but

he couldn’t see anyone.

He was dreaming again, right?

After a moment, Annis broke through the fog and came toward him, her golden gown and

eyes shimmering. It was a breathtaking sight, one that made his heart and body ache, and he

realized that his feelings for Annis ran deeper than just lust. He admired her greatly, and he had

watched and listened to her from afar. He had gotten to know her, even though she knew very

little about him. Had he gone and fallen in love? Was that what this ache in his chest was?

She said nothing but stared at him. A red-rose haze formed around her like a second skin.

It slowly grew outward, pushing away the fog so it formed a bubble around Annis.

As Cohen watched it morph, he got the strangest sensation that he was being watched. He

looked around, but saw nothing beyond the fog, the red-rose haze, and Annis. It was an odd

feeling, but this was a dream, and weird shit could happen in dreams.

The haze kept expanding and growing until the fog was almost gone, and there was

nothing but Annis in a large, red-rose haze, her golden eyes and gown shimmering.

“Let it go,” Annis said.

Cohen woke up, but didn’t open his eyes.

Guilt raged through him as he thought about the dream. The fog had definitely

represented his vow to Mia, of that he was certain. The rest of it he didn’t have an idea, except

for the feelings. Yes, he knew that he cared deeply for Annis.

He tried to roll over and realized that he had a couple of things going on. First, there was

someone in bed with him, and second, his back hurt like someone had set the damn thing on fire.

Whoever was behind got up from the bed and a cool cloth was placed on his forehead a

moment later. He was a sweaty, fevered mess.

Opening his eyes, it all came back to him. He had been shot, and The Platoon had thrown

him and Annis into a car.

Oh, shit.

“I’m so glad to see you finally open your eyes,” Annis said as she dabbed his forehead

with the cloth.

Cohen looked around. “Where are we?”

Annis shrugged. “We’re in a house that belongs to The Platoon. We drove for quite a

while, but I couldn’t tell you where we are or what streets we took to get here.”

Cohen struggled to sit up but failed. Pain lit up his back.

“You should stay still, Cohen. They removed the bullet and mended the wound, yet it

looks like it may be getting infected.”

Cohen nodded. He could feel the fever. But he did need to use the restroom, so he needed

to get vertical.

“Can you help me up, Annis? I need a toilet.”

“Of course.”

Annis stood and took his hand to help him to a sitting position. She then sat next to him

and put his arm over her shoulder and stood up. She was solid and strong, and he felt as if she

were as capable as one of his fellow Warriors. They slowly made their way to the restroom and

stopped at the doorway. Their eyes met, and she turned her back but didn’t shut the door.

After relieving himself, Cohen flushed the toilet, then splashed cold water on his face.

Meeting his own dark eyes in the mirror, the pain from the fever and wound raged on, almost

making him dizzy. He wished he could take out the blasted contacts because his eyes felt like

they were swimming in sand. Behind him, Annis turned around and met his gaze in the mirror.

She still had on her gold dress, but her face was make-up free. Her hair was pulled back

into a ponytail, and she took his breath away as she cocked her head to the side.

“Cohen, what does a Healer do when injured?”

“
Natwa
powder,” he said.

Her brows furrowed. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Cohen nodded. “You wouldn’t unless you were a Forest Dweller. You city folks don’t

know about that stuff.”

Annis smiled. “And I don’t suppose you have any on you?”

How he wished. He hated healing on human time. If this fever didn’t get him, he

wouldn’t be up and around for a good few weeks at the minimum.

“No.”

Annis nodded, and Cohen noted her shoulders sagged a little bit as if he’d just delivered

bad news.

“Ready to get back to bed?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Once he was back in bed, he threw his arm over his eyes and felt the mattress dip as

Annis sat down next to him.

“What’s the deal here, Annis?” he asked in a low voice.

She sighed. “They made me call Blake, who in turn was going to call Noah. They want

Noah. Micah wants all of you, but especially Noah.”

“Still?”

“Yes.”

“How stupid is this guy?”

“I believe humans have a saying of ‘all brawn and no brains.’”

Cohen laughed a little, but Jesus that hurt. “That about sums Micah up. He’s built like

Godzilla.”

Annis snickered, and Cohen removed his arm from his eyes so he could watch her. He

loved the way her smile lit up her face, the way her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, and the

dimple in her right cheek.

They grinned at each other for a beat, then Annis looked away as though she were

uncomfortable with the situation.

“Would you like something to eat?” she asked, moving over to the dresser, her hips

swaying softly beneath the gold dress. “They gave us some microwave soup and a microwave.

It’s definitely not Hudson’s cooking, but it fills the stomach.”

Cohen didn’t feel like eating, but he figured he should get something in his gut. “Sure,

thanks.”

As Annis unwrapped the plastic from the Styrofoam cup, he thought about what he had

said before he had been shot.

Man, he had really laid it out on the table for her—just let it fly. He had poured his guts

out, and there was really very little left to say except that he cared about her, and he hoped that

one day she would forgive him for the way he had treated her.

He actually felt pretty good about clearing the air with Annis. Yes, he’d been a complete

jackass, but he had put his pride aside and not only apologized, but gave her the why’s behind it.

It was tough carrying around such a strong dose of self-hatred, and to let someone know about it

brought him a little bit of relief.

The microwave dinged, and Annis wrapped the cup in a paper towel. Turning to him, she

gave him a slight smile. “Can you sit up to eat? Perhaps we can put some pillows to your back so

there isn’t so much pressure from the headboard?”

Cohen nodded, and this time was able to sit up on his own. Annis hurried over and put

the soup down on the nightstand. Reaching across him, she rearranged the pillows.

As her arm brushed his chest, little electric currents danced across his skin. He inhaled,

her scent reminding him of the fresh-cut lilacs Abby had brought home one day and set in a vase

in the Great Room. The air had been permeated with the smell, and Cohen had enjoyed it

immensely.

“Okay, I think that will support you,” Annis said, straightening up. “Do you need help

moving back against the pillows?”

He thought about saying yes just so she would have to touch him again. “Nah. I think I

can cover six inches.”

She sat down on the bed next to him. “Can you eat?”

Since the bullet had penetrated just below the shoulder blade, there had been some

fragmental damage to the shoulder itself, and Cohen found it difficult to do much of anything

with his left arm. “I think I need some help. Please.”

Annis scooted closer and picked up the soup. “I’m not very good at taking care of

others,” she said with a shy smile. “So I shall do my best and apologize in advance for any soup I

may spill on you.”

The first spoonful of broth made it to his lips, and the hot liquid burned but tasted

surprisingly good.

“How’s that?” she asked.

As he stared into her glowing eyes just a few inches away from his, he wondered if the

ache in his chest was love for Annis. It was different from what he felt for Mia, but it was an

ache just the same. Not that it mattered—he knew he could never do anything about it. He

needed to honor his vow to Mia.

Before he knew what he was doing, he lifted his good hand and gently touched her face.

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t flinch. Even with a fever his SR44 male roared, wanting her.

He brought his hand back down to his lap and nodded.

Another spoonful of soup was brought to his lips. This went on for a few minutes in

silence. He stared at Annis as she concentrated on the soup. It was a nice moment, Cohen

decided. In fact, it was one of the best moments he had experienced in his two hundred twelve

years on Earth. It was simple and pure, one being taking care of another.

Maybe that was what he had been subconsciously looking for when he had been with all

those human women. Someone to take care of him, and someone he could do the same. Instead,

he just got the physical relationship. What he was experiencing with Annis, of all people, was

what he had been searching for, and it reminded him of the way him and Mia used to take care of

each other. She had been his true partner as they walked through life together.

His thoughts took him back to one particularly stressful healing session in the forest. A

female had brought her child to him. Cohen had put his energy into the boy, yet after an hour of

intense searching for the cause of illness, he couldn’t find one. The mother had become irate, as

her
sohma
, or son, was indeed ill. Cohen could sense the illness—he just couldn’t pinpoint it—

and if he couldn’t pinpoint it, he couldn’t heal it.