Tangled Fates

by Carly Fall

  need to tell me about the bad stuff that you did? I’m cool not knowing.”

  Nico took another sip of his drink. “This stuff kind of grows on you,” he said, nodding to

  his glass.

  Cohen nodded, curiosity really eating at him.

  “I am a Dream Walker,” Nico said quietly, staring at his glass.

  “No kidding.”

  Wow. A Dream Walker. Cohen had never met one before, and the fact that he had one

  rooming with him made him as happy as a wax job to his balls.

  A Dream Walker could observe others’ dreams, interpret them, and in some cases,

  actually participate in the dream itself. Cohen had thought that Dream Walkers were nothing

  more than SR44 legend. Stories of Dream Walkers, both good and bad, were passed down from

  generation to generation among the old-school Forest Dwellers. Cohen remembered one story

  where the Dream Walker haunted a male’s dreams so often, he was driven to commit suicide. As

  with most things, a Dream Walker’s ability could be used for bad or good.

  “No kidding. I appreciate my gift, however, I don’t abuse it. I like to keep to myself, and

  I don’t have any interest in the dreams of others.”

  Okay, great. At least the guy wasn’t going to be sticking his nose in Cohen’s messed-up

  nighttime movies.

  “However, I did visit your dream, Cohen.”

  Cohen narrowed his eyes at Nico. He had been in his dream? Which one? Cohen thought

  back. It wasn’t as if he could remember every dream he had had in the past couple of days, but

  one particularly stuck out in his mind: the one where he felt like someone was in the dream with

  him. He remembered looking around and not seeing anyone but had blown it off as just weird

  stuff that happened in dreamland.

  Cohen pointed is finger at Nico. “You were there. The one with Annis and that fog and

  that pink haze.”

  Nico nodded. “And I’m sorry for the invasion, but I needed to find out who was being

  kept in the underground room.”

  “It’s called a basement.”

  “Excuse me?”

  ‘The underground room is called a basement.”

  Nico gave him a small smile and bowed his head. “Thank you for the clarification.”

  Cohen didn’t like this one bit. This fucking guy was in his room and he could pop into his

  dreams at any time? Nope. What if Nico did a little B&E while he was making love to Annis in

  his dreams? He was certain he would dream about that again. He didn’t need a third wheel in that

  one.

  Nope, not happy.

  “Like I said, I don’t make it a habit,” Nico said.

  “You better not,” Cohen bit out. “You stay out of my fucking dreams. Do you understand

  me?”

  Nico nodded. Cohen was so irritated he felt like hitting the male.

  “Yes. And I can understand your anger at my intrusion, but I assure you it won’t happen

  again.”

  Cohen nodded. He wanted a Tambaran on that one, but doubt he could talk Nico into it.

  Maybe with a little more of the Captain . . .

  “Listen, Warrior. I felt the guilt that encompassed you in that dream.”

  Cohen stood and began pacing, kicking a T-shirt out of his way. “It’s none of your

  fucking business, Nico. My guilt, my anger, and anything else I have going on inside of me

  doesn’t concern you. You got that?”

  Nico stood and planted himself in front of Cohen. “I think you need to hear what that

  dream meant.”

  “I know what it meant!” Cohen yelled. Jesus, he didn’t want all his metaphorical dirty

  laundry laid out all over place; he couldn’t even keep up with the real stuff, as was evident with

  the mess in his quarters.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” Nico said quietly. “Because if you did, I believe—I could be

  wrong here—but I believe that things would be different for you.”

  Cohen was ready to lose his temper. This guy knew nothing about him or what he had

  been through.

  “The fog represented an oath you’ve made,” Nico said quietly. “Was it a Tambaran?”

  Cohen nodded. “How did you know?”

  “Because the fog was so thick, so I knew it wasn’t just a regular oath. It had to be a

  strong one, and we both know there is nothing stronger than a Tambaran.”

  Okay, that was true. Cohen couldn’t argue that, and that’s why he’d done it. He wanted to

  make sure he remembered the vows he’d made to his mate this time around.

  “The haze was Mia.”

  Cohen closed his eyes, his anger going down a few notches. He didn’t want to hear this,

  but he couldn’t seem to tell Nico to shut up. He knew what the dream meant, and he didn’t need

  Nico to rub in the guilt and angst he felt when he thought about wanting Annis with such

  ferocity.

  “And of course, Annis was Annis.”

  Cohen looked at Nico. He felt like he needed to sit down before his legs gave out. “And

  your point is?”

  “Mia was pushing out the fog and surrounding Annis, right?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “And what did she say to you?”

  Cohen remembered the words vividly, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them. “You

  were there,” he whispered. “You know what she said.”

  Nico nodded. “But you tell me.”

  Cohen felt sick. The guilt that raged in him was at epic levels having to say these things

  out loud. “She told me to ‘let it go.’”

  “And what do you think you should let go?”

  Cohen stared into the silver orbs. This was not only a heart-wrenching experience, but

  also a strange one, as he was about to tell Nico that Mia wanted him to let go of his lust for

  Annis.

  He took a deep breath. “She wants me to let go of my . . .”

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit his lust to Nico, Annis’s former lover. It was one

  thing to admit to Rayner and Jovan over some beers, but he couldn’t do this, not to a stranger.

  “You think she wants you to let go of your desire for Annis,” Nico said in a very matter-

  of-fact voice. “However, that’s wrong. She wants you to let go of the Tambaran.”

  Chapter 43

  Annis sat in the corner on the blue mats of gym. She had lifted weights, ran on the

  treadmill for a bit, and was now stretching out. What she wanted was a little hand-to-hand

  practice, but she couldn’t find any takers.

  Chickens. Or since all of her opponents happened to be male, perhaps she should be

  calling them roosters.

  She opened her legs wide and laid her forehead on the ground, loving the stretch of her

  inner thighs. Although most of the Warriors preferred harder music they called Rock ‘n’ Roll,

  she was partial to something called pop music, specifically music of that genre created in the

  eighties and nineties. Right now her favorite band was INXS. She loved the soulful, sexy sounds

  of the lead singer, and was saddened when she found out he had taken his own life. Presently, his

  voice caressed her with his words— There’s something about you girl that makes me sweat.

  Indeed. She shivered.

  She hummed along and heard the gym door open. Cohen walked in, oblivious to her

  being there since she was in the corner about sixty feet away from the door.

  Maybe she had just found her sparring partner.

  She stood and watched as he walked to
the middle of the gym, and when he was dead

  center in the mats, she ran and snuck up behind him, her sneakers on the mats as silent as if she

  were floating. She kicked his feet out from under him.

  He went crashing down, but not before he had reached back and grabbed her arm. Using

  the momentum as he pulled her down, she flew over his big body and rolled out of his reach,

  landing on her stomach, both of her arms outstretched. He grabbed her foot and pulled, and just

  as she tried to connect the heel of her sneaker with his jaw, he let go of her arm and grasped her

  other foot. She struggled a minute more, then burst out laughing. She rolled over to her back, and

  Cohen was on top of her, her hands clasped in his above her head by his firm grasp.

  She met his gaze and realized that he didn’t find this as funny as she did. His face was

  very serious.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed.

  Annis realized that something was not right. She felt Cohen’s body go rigid, his thick

  arousal growing heavy against her belly. It both repulsed her and excited her. “I-I was just joking

  around, Cohen,” she whispered.

  It was then she realized the vulnerably of her situation. She was completely incapacitated

  as his body covered hers and her arms were trapped above her head. However, she wasn’t afraid,

  but a low ache manifested within her belly, making her want the male who confined her.

  “Cohen, I was joking around. I’m sorry.”

  The intensity of his gaze startled her, and she witnessed so much in there: desperation,

  longing, but most of all, confusion.

  He said nothing, his breathing labored. He stared into her eyes, the anger that was once

  there flared yet again. After a moment, he brought his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was gentle, yet urgent. His tongue caressed her lips, and her body undulated,

  taking on a life of its own from her cognizant thought. Somewhere it the back of her mind she

  realized her hips were slowly grinding up into his, and she longed to run her fingers through his

  hair, down his strong arms, and feel the muscles ripple in his back as she stroked his bare skin.

  She also knew that he was breaking his Tambaran, and she couldn’t allow her friend to do that.

  She needed this to stop—but wanted it so much—and she didn’t know how to put an end to it.

  Their tongues dueled gently at first, then with more intensity. His lips traveled from her

  mouth and kissed her jaw, and moved down her neck. Insecurity gripped her as she realized she

  was a sweaty mess.

  “For the love of God, Annis,” he groaned. “You taste like I’ve landed in Heaven.”

  Heat flushed throughout her system, warmth pooling between her legs. She had never felt

  such exquisite pleasure as she did at this moment.

  Suddenly, he stopped, and his gaze met hers, his breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He

  let go of her hands, and she brought them to the sides of his face. His skin was soft except for the

  stubble lining his jaw, and the confusion he felt of what was happening between them drew deep

  lines in his brow.

  “You can’t do this, Cohen,” she said with regret. Despite her reservations, how she

  longed to feeling him skin-to-skin, to have her body sing in the ways that Liberty had described,

  to be loved by this male and have her horrible memories of sexual experiences be replaced by

  ones that made her smile and blush when she thought of them. But this male could never be hers.

  He belonged to another forever.

  He moved onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

  After a long stretch of silence, he said in a quiet voice barely audible above the stereo,

  “What do you know about Nico?”

  Annis rolled to her side and propped herself up on her elbow. She smiled as she read his

  shirt that said, I survived the Mayan Apocalypse. Asking her about Nico was the last thing she

  expected from his mouth. “Nico is a fine warrior, Cohen. He is a good, honest, male.”

  Cohen turned to her, his violet eyes blazing. “Did you know he’s a Dream Walker?”

  Annis hesitated a moment before answering. “I did. It’s not something he likes to share

  freely, as most people are leery of him intruding on their sleep. He has told me that he has

  learned not to share that aspect of his life as it makes him more of an outcast, which he doesn’t

  appreciate.”

  Cohen looked back up at the ceiling and nodded. “Understandable.”

  There were a few beats of silence. “Cohen, what does this have to do with anything?”

  He let out a long breath and rolled to his side, mirroring her posture. “He . . . he told me

  some things that surprised me. I’m not sure what to do with it all.”

  “Nico visited a dream you had?”

  Cohen nodded and looked at small space of blue mat between them. “He did. It was a

  very . . . personal dream.”

  Annis was shocked. Nico had told her how he didn’t want to intrude on others’ dreams. It

  was a private space that he felt shouldn’t be violated, but apparently he had waltzed right in on

  Cohen’s.

  “And?”

  “And he interpreted it. He said I was wrong about what I thought it signified.”

  Annis still didn’t understand what he was getting at. “I do know that Nico has been

  interpreting dreams for many, many years for those who ask, and he’s very proficient at it.”

  INXS sang of original sin. She didn’t know what that was, but loved the song.

  “You know when something is not what it seems?”

  She nodded. She had just been through that with Cohen and his hatred of her, but she had

  found out that he really didn’t despise her, but himself. The whole situation had not been what it

  appeared.

  “That’s kind of where I am. Nico delivered some really startling news to me, and if he’s

  right, it’s going to make things really different. If I can wrap my mind around it.”

  Annis was so confused. Cohen was talking in circles, and she didn’t understand anything.

  “What do you mean, Cohen? What does this concern?”

  His gaze met hers, and he brought his finger up to her cheek and traced her cheekbone

  and jawline. “You,” he whispered. “It concerns you.”

  Just then, the door to the gym opened and Blake strode in. Cohen got to his feet in one

  smooth movement. Annis scrambled to stand as Cohen walked toward the door.

  “Cohen!” she called, but he didn’t answer.

  Blake eyed Cohen as if he was a rattlesnake about to strike, and they passed each other

  without a word.

  Blake walked over to her. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  She watched as Cohen pushed through the double doors and stared in that direction until

  the door clicked shut.

  Was everything okay? She didn’t know. What she was certain of was that Cohen was one

  troubled male, and she was one very, very confused female.

  What did he mean his dream concerned her? What did his dreams consist of that involved

  her? What had Nico seen?

  “Annis? Was Cohen being an ass?”

  She turned her gaze to Blake. “No, Blake, he was fine. Everything is okay.”

  But she couldn’t help feeling an ache in her heart for Cohen, because it seemed that

  everything was not okay.

  Chapter 44

  The call from Micah came the next day. Cohen hadn’t heard the conversation between

  Noah and Micah
, but Noah appeared at his quarters.

  “Hey, man,” Noah said, leaning up against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his

  chest. He wore a red T-shirt that read, Tapout, and a pair of baggy jeans.

  “What’s up, Noah?”

  “How’re you feeling?”

  Cohen shrugged. His mental playfield was still crowded with too many players, but

  physically, he was good. “Fine.”

  Noah nodded. “I need a favor.”

  Noah explained how Micah had called and was really pissed about Cohen and Annis

  escaping. “The deal was that we trade some contacts for you and Annis.”

  “Seriously? He wanted fucking contacts for our lives?”

  Noah shrugged. “Simple minds, Cohen. What can I say?”

  To extend the olive branch, Noah wanted to make good on the contact delivery. “I want

  to show him that I’m a male of my word and that I mean business when I say I want to live in

  peace.”

  Cohen nodded, admiring Noah.

  “I’d like you to go with Talin and Jovan for the drop-off.”

  If Noah was sending Cohen, it had occurred to him that shit might go tits up and Cohen’s

  healing abilities would be needed.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Now.”

  “Rayner took my guns,” Cohen said.

  Noah pulled out two handguns from the back of his jeans. “I heard about that. Here. Take

  mine.”

  Cohen went to his closet to get his holster, then put on a jacket over it. He rode up the

  elevator with Noah. Jovan and Talin were waiting in the kitchen.

  “Ready?” Jovan said.

  Cohen nodded, and the three filed out to the black Hummer.

  “Where are we supposed to meet him?” Cohen asked.

  “Downtown. In the alley by the Black Cuff.”

  They rode in silence as The Rolling Stone’s “Sympathy for the Devil” played through the

  speakers. Jovan drove and Talin rode shotgun. Cohen reflected on their conversation in the

  desert, and he wondered how Talin’s metaphorical scorpions and snakes were doing.

  Jovan pulled the Hummer into a parking space at the mouth of the alley. “How’s that for

  luck?” he asked.

  “Lucky indeed. It’s like you’re a leprechaun or something,” Cohen said.

  Jovan chucked as he checked his rearview mirror. “Yeah, next thing you know I’ll be

  shitting four leaf clovers.”