by Carly Fall
Blake heard the pleading in Annis’s voice, and he glanced over at Nico who sat in the
front seat wearing dark sunglasses. The guy could be a wealth of information into The Platoon,
or it could be a trick. It was a crapshoot, and he decided he wasn’t the one who should be making
that call. That was up to Noah and the rest of the Saviors. However, he did need to get
permission to bring him in.
“Let me make some calls,” Blake said, pulling out his phone and turning his back to her.
“That’s fine, Blake, but let me speak to them. Let me convince them.”
Blake paced, holding the phone up to his ear. Noah first. Voicemail. Jovan second. The
same. He called all the Saviors, and none answered. Talin didn’t even have his phone on. He
cursed, unsure of what to do.
Finally, he looked over at her. “I can’t get ahold of anyone.”
She heard a moan from Cohen.
“We have no time to waste, Blake,” Annis said, panic lacing her words. “Cohen is
dying.”
Chapter 39
When they arrived at the silo, Annis entered first. She heard Jovan and Rayner in the
Great Room playing some game that involved a lot of shooting on the Xbox.
“I can’t believe you just grenaded me, you asshole,” Rayner practically shouted.
“You deserved it after you shot me sixty-nine times. Quit being such a little girl. And
that’s what I want to do to that Micah fucker. You can see crazy written all over the male.”
“Would you two stop it?” Faith said, exasperated. “I swear you two are worse than a
couple of kids on that damn thing.”
Taking a deep breath, Annis went into the room. Rayner’s red eyes flickered toward her,
back at the TV, then to her again. His forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“Annis?” he said, as if he couldn’t believe she was standing before him. Or maybe he
thought he was seeing her spirit.
“Yes.”
Jovan’s gaze whipped around and landed on her.
“Do you see Annis?” Rayner asked.
“Yep.”
“So she’s not caught in the ether.”
“Nope.”
“Then what the hell is she doing here? I thought we were making the exchange
tomorrow.”
“Stop it,” Annis said, wondering what they exchanged her life for. What could they have
given Micah that would be worth her and Cohen’s lives? That could be broached later. “I am
here in the flesh, and we need your help with Cohen.”
“Annis! I’m so glad to see you!” Faith rushed over, and Annis bent down to hug the fiery
redhead.
“I’m glad to see you as well, Faith.”
Both males dropped their controllers and hurried past her, and she followed.
At the doorway to the silo, Nico and Blake had Cohen between them, one of his arms
thrown over each of them, his feet dragging behind him.
“Whoa. Who the hell is that?” Rayner asked, putting himself between Nico and Faith.
Nico looked up at him, his eyes blazing silver.
“This is Nico,” Annis said. “Nico helped us escape.”
“You brought him back here?” Rayner asked incredulously.
“Yes. He has nowhere to go. He can’t go back to The Platoon.”
“I tried to call, but not one of you fuckers answered your phone,” Blake said.
“You can’t just bring strangers in here, Annis,” Jovan growled. He turned and walked
into the other room.
Blake and Nico stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and Nico looked around. Annis
noticed that his stab wound had opened and blood was seeping into his white shirt.
“Fascinating,” he murmured.
Jovan returned, gun at his side. “Rayner, you and Blake get Cohen down to his room.
Nico, you stay right where you are. I’ve never been one to hesitate to shoot first and ask
questions later.”
“There is no need to shoot him, Jovan,” Annis said, as Rayner and Blake dragged Cohen
to the elevator. She wanted to go with them to make sure he was okay, but she also needed to
make sure that Nico wouldn’t be taken out into the desert and shot. “He helped us escape.”
Jovan studied Nico as if he were a new animal in a zoo. “Why is he bleeding?”
“Because I stabbed him,” Annis said.
“And he’s a member of The Platoon?”
“Not willingly,” Nico said.
“And he speaks. What do you mean, not willingly?”
“I mean that they are a bunch of animals. Micah is off-the-wall crazy. I haven’t wanted to
have anything to do with them for months, but I had nowhere to go. I don’t know this world very
well, and I don’t know how I would survive.”
Jovan approached Nico and put his hand on his shoulder. “Say all that again.”
Annis knew Jovan was checking Nico for truth.
“I also have a weapon in my pocket,” Nico said. “If you want to reach in and grab it . . .
unless you would like me to.”
Jovan nodded. “Make it really slow, buddy.”
With over-exaggerated movements, Nico handed the gun to Jovan.
The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, and Blake and Rayner stepped out. “Faith
and Annis: go down and see if you can find Cohen’s Natwa powder,” Rayner said. “It’ll be red.”
“We’ll take care of old Spiderman here,” Blake said.
Annis moved to stand in front of Nico and glared at all of them. “Each of you promise me
that Nico won’t be hurt.”
They stared at her and said nothing.
“I mean it. I knew Nico on SR44. I can vouch for him. He’s a decent and honest male,
and would make a fine addition to the Saviors.”
Silence.
Annis nodded. “Very well. But please. Just hear what he has to say. He will be a wealth
of information on The Platoon.”
They each nodded. “Okay, Annis. We won’t bury him. Not now, anyway. You have my
word,” Jovan said.
Annis breathed a sigh of relief. Jovan was a good male, and she trusted his promises.
“Very well,” she said, moving to the elevator with Faith.
“What is a Spiderman?” Nico asked.
Blake sighed, exasperated. “He’s a superhero who has silver eyes.”
“Really?” Nico said. “I thought you were telling me I had a spider on my body.”
“Yes, really. And you better not be harboring any spiders. I hate those little fuckers,”
Blake said, turning to Jovan. “I called Noah. He’s not happy.”
“And this surprises you?” Jovan asked.
“Of course not. I told Annis—”
The elevator door shut, and Annis was in blessed silence as it carried her and Faith
downward.
“Are you okay?” Faith said, putting her hand on Annis’s arm.
Annis sighed. “I am, Faith. Thank you. I would like to stop at my quarters before seeing
to Cohen so I can remove these contacts and change.”
“Of course,” Faith said, and pushed the button to Annis’s floor. “I’ll just meet you down
there, okay?”
“Yes,” Annis said, stepping from the elevator. She went into her quarters and leaned
against the door, thankful for a moment of peace and quiet. It couldn’t last long though; she
needed to help Faith find Cohen’s Natwa powder, or he would die.
Quickly, she changed into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt, balling up what was left of
the gold dress and throwing it in the trash. She spla
shed some water on her face and removed her
contacts. It felt wonderful.
She took the stairs two flights down and opened the door to Cohen’s room. Faith was
going through his drawers, and Cohen lay on the bed looking terribly pale.
“I can’t believe what a mess this place is,” Faith said.
It was a mess. Clothes were strewn all over, and there were stacks of dirty dishes, and
half-full glasses of alcohol and bottles littered the place. To her it looked like a room of someone
who was coming unhinged, someone who cared about nothing at all.
Her gaze went back to the male on the bed. She didn’t have time to think about the
condition of the room—Cohen needed his Natwa powder. “I’ll check the bathroom,” Annis said.
A half hour later, her and Faith had been through every drawer, through all the cupboards
in the bathroom, and now they were looking under the bed.
Faith pulled out a black, marble box. They sat on the floor with it between them, trying to
figure out how to open it.
“I don’t see a lock or anything,” Faith mumbled as she flipped it over.
“This has to be where he keeps it,” Annis said.
“I’ll take it upstairs and see if any of the others know how to get it open,” Faith said.
“I’ll wait here,” Annis said.
She paced the room while Faith was gone, picking up a T-shirt and moving the black
overstuffed chairs back in front of the TV. The room needed much more cleaning, but it wasn’t
her place to do it. To her, this mess symbolized Cohen internal house, and it was something that
he would need to take care of himself.
Moments later, Faith returned. “They can’t get it open either,” she said. “Rayner even
took it outside and shot at it, but the bullet just bounced off.”
Annis sat down on the bed and took the box from Faith. “I’ll wait with him. Hopefully
he’ll wake up and have the strength to open it himself.”
“Are you sure?”
Annis nodded and looked at Cohen.
The door clicked softly as Faith left.
Annis willed him to wake up.
An hour later, she pulled an overstuffed chair over to his bedside. She was exhausted.
The Warriors had come by to check on Cohen and try to get the box open again, and when it
became apparent that there was nothing that anyone could do except hope that Cohen woke up
and was able to open the box himself, they eventually left.
“I trust you held your word and Nico is still alive, Jovan?” she had said.
“Yep. Breathing just as good as you and me. Call me if you need anything or there’s any
change in Cohen.”
Annis felt her eyelids getting heavy. She had slept little over the past days. The silence in
the room was like a blanket, and she burrowed down a little into the chair. Just as she was almost
asleep, Cohen moaned.
Annis sat up, and he opened his eyes.
Chapter 40
Cohen felt the bed beneath him and wondered where he was. He knew he was really sick
from fever and infection. Maybe they had soft beds in Heaven.
He opened his eyes and felt his breath catch as he met Annis’s golden stare. She gave him
a small smile and said, “I’m so happy to see you’re awake, Cohen. We’re back at the silo, and
we’ve torn your room apart looking for the powder.”
How had they gotten here? He closed his eyes and tried to recall. That’s right, he’d been
in the middle of telling Nico that he wouldn’t be going near the Saviors, and he’d passed out.
“Is Nico here?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Yes. He’s upstairs with the Saviors.”
Hell. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.
She reached down and came up with his black box. “Is the powder in here?”
He opened his eyes to see what she was referring to and nodded, unable to speak. Christ,
he was burning up with fever.
“How do I open it?”
He motioned her over to the bed, and she sat it down next to him. With every ounce of
strength he had, he lifted his hand and placed it on top of the box. He poured what little energy
he had left into it, hoping it was enough, and whispered the chant. After a moment, there was a
little click, and he let his hand fall back to the mattress.
Annis sat there, stunned. “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” she murmured.
“Rayner took it outside and shot it. The bullet bounced off.”
She leaned over and opened the lid. Removing the blue silk, she glanced over at him. “Is
this the knife you made your Tambaran with?”
He nodded.
She set the blue silk aside and carefully pulled out the yellow. “Is this it?”
“Yes,” he whispered. If he didn’t get some of that on his back soon, he was certain he
would die. He could feel the infection moving through his body, and it was strong.
With considerable effort he rolled over onto his side so that his back was to her.
“Do I just put this powder on the wound? How much?”
“Just enough to cover it,” he said, his voice raspy.
A moment later he flinched, her cool fingers coming in contact with his red-hot skin. She
dabbed at the wound, and Cohen felt the familiar tingling sensations begin, signaling the healing
had started.
“This looks awful, Cohen,” she said quietly. “This infection is terrible.”
Oh, yeah. He didn’t need to see anything. He could feel it.
Annis continued to dab the powder on the wound, and Cohen liked her hands on him. Not
only were they cool, which was a wonderful feeling against his raging, hot body, but her skin
was so soft, it was like the pads of her fingers were made out of satin.
He shut his eyes as he recalled the way she’d fought Nico. She was lethal grace, a deadly
beauty. She was one of the most paradoxical people he had ever laid eyes on.
He wanted to toss around the fact that Nico was also a former lover, but he didn’t have
the energy. Instead, he focused on Annis’s hands on his body.
“I’m going to get a washcloth, Cohen. You’re burning up.”
He said nothing. He didn’t hear her make her way to the bathroom as the carpet muted
her footsteps, but he felt her lack of presence.
How he wished he had the energy to get up so he could take out these damn contacts.
They were uncomfortable for a few hours, but after a day or two? Forget it. He would be happy
if he never had to put them on his eyeballs again.
The water ran in the bathroom, and a minute later he felt the cool cloth on his back. It felt
good, but he shivered at the contact.
“Amazing, Cohen. It looks better already.”
She dabbed at his back, then reached around and patted his forehead. “I brought your
contact case from the bathroom if you want to take them out.”
Jesus, did he ever. The female deserved a shot at sainthood for that one. He’d have the
energy to pry them out of his eyes in a few minutes.
As his mind wandered, he wondered what would have become of him and Annis if he
hadn’t made his Tambaran. He supposed that they would end up in the sack together, and his
guilt would grow to monumental proportions. What the outcome of that would be, he couldn’t
imagine because he couldn’t take any more guilt.
He imagined having the strength to reach behind him and pull her over so that lay face
-
to-face. Of course, in his imagination, she was naked, and he would pull her slim, strong body
against him. He would kiss her gently, and . . .
Cohen’s eyes flew open as he looked down at his lower body. Somehow, he hadn’t
realized he was naked, and he had given himself a raging erection with his thoughts. Thankfully,
he was covered. He pulled the sheet up a little higher on his waist. Annis definitely didn’t need to
see what he had going on.
They sat in silence, Annis dabbing his body, and Cohen trying to think of anything but
Annis lying next to him in her perfectly naked beauty. Instead, he concentrated on the feeling of
ants crawling through his system. When he used the Natwa powder and experienced this
sensation, he always imagined ants blazing through his body, each one carrying a sword, cutting
and slashing at little dots of infection that riddled him until there was nothing left except healthy
cells and tissue.
About twenty minutes later, Cohen knew when the ants had won, and he felt his fever
break. His body cooled to its normal temperature, and his energy began to slowly return.
He turned over, pleased that his back didn’t hurt too badly.
“That is just amazing stuff,” Annis said. He looked up into her golden stare, hating what
could never be. Lifting his hand to her face, he gently caressed her cheek.
“You’re very good at it,” he said quietly.
She tilted her head, confused. “Good at what, Cohen?”
“You told me back at The Platoon’s place that you’re not very good at taking care of
others. I disagree.”
She smiled and took her hand in his. “Thank you. And you, Healer, are an excellent
patient.”
They sat holding hands for a moment, then Cohen said, “Maybe . . . maybe we can be
friends, Annis. I think we’re on our way there now that I’ve cleared the air about what’s been
going on with me these past months.” Not to mention that kiss. That wasn’t a kiss of a friend, but
there couldn’t be any more.
Her eyes clouded for a moment, and she gave him a sad smile. “I would like that, Cohen.
Very much.”
“It’s been a long night,” he said.
Annis’s eyes widened, and she looked at the clock. “Oh, no,” she said. “I didn’t realize it
was so late. I’m surprise the sun hasn’t risen yet. I should get to my quarters so that—”
