Taken by Fire (35 page)

“No, Creed. Listen to me. Wyatt and I used our powers. The doctor operated while we helped heal her. We got her going again. Creed … she’s alive.”

It took about five seconds to sink in, but once it did, Dev and Creed leaped to their feet and burst out of the chapel. Faith followed them, grinning as they slammed into the operating room.

“Ani?” Creed skidded to a halt at her side, his entire body trembling. “Jesus, Ani, you’re okay.”

Annika blinked slowly, an assurance that, yes, she was all right. Wyatt folded Faith into his strong arms as the storm of emotions swirling inside of her broke, and she dissolved into tears. Annika was okay. But life was so fragile, and death so devastating.

“Let’s go home,” she said against his chest. “Let’s hug Aimee until she gets sick of us, and then let’s get to work on a brother or sister for her.”

An approving sound rumbled up from deep in Wyatt’s chest. “I’m so lucky I have you.”

“I feel the same way about you, love.” She looked up to see the room filling with ACRO personnel, despite Ruch’s insistence that they’d be able to visit after Annika was moved to the recovery room. “I feel the same way about all of them. How lucky we are.”

I
t took a little time for the death haze to wear off.

Annika stared at all the people in her hospital room as the doctors and nurses fussed over her and removed annoying equipment like intubation tubes. Of course, they had to work
around Creed and Dev, who parked themselves at her bedside and refused to move until the medical people finally figured out that if they said “This is important,” the two would bound out of the way.

It would have been amusing if Annika’s chest didn’t hurt so bad, and if she wasn’t struggling to hold on to the memories of being … dead. With every passing minute, the details faded, and there was so much that was important. Oz, her mother, her father …

The docs and nurses were talking, telling her to expect things and do things—little pinch here, pressure there, breathe out hard. Mostly, their voices ran together, but when Creed spoke, his words punched straight through the drone from everyone else.

“Annika?” Creed squeezed her hand as the intubation tube came out of her throat. She coughed, gagged, and shit, her throat was going to be sore for a week.

“R-Renee,” she rasped, and Haley stepped forward with the sleeping infant.

“I haven’t let her go except to change her,” Haley said. “She’s fine.”

Dr. Ruch cleared his throat. “I need you all to clear out. Once we move Annika to her room, you can see her.”

Everyone obeyed except Creed and Dev, who gave Ruch looks that dared him to make them leave. Wisely, he didn’t say a word.

“How are you feeling?” Creed asked, and Annika scowled.

“Like I got shot.”

“Damn you,” Dev breathed, as he took her other hand. “What you did was stupid. Reckless.” He inhaled raggedly. “And you saved my life.”

“Payback.” She smiled weakly. He’d saved her years ago when he’d rescued her from a miserable existence on the run, and then he’d given her a life here at ACRO. “So,” she said, “how am I here? I died.”

“Faith and Wyatt,” Creed said, and then he frowned. “How do you know you were dead?”

She swallowed, winced at the tenderness. “Saw it. I was with Oz. And my mom.” Dev and Creed exchanged glances, like maybe she was crazy. “I’m not crazy. Oz … he said that what happened was what his prediction was about. And he was on his way out of here permanently.” She swallowed again and glanced at Dev. “Said he told you and Gabe good-bye.”

Dev nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.”

“So you saw your death?” Creed asked. “How did you come back?”

The hazy memories were like a rubber band, being stretched impossibly thin, and at any moment they’d break and she’d have nothing. “I don’t know. I was with my mom. She was telling me things. We were in the light, but then I was being pulled back.”

Her head throbbed as she struggled to remember how she’d seen her body surrounded by medical people. Faith and Wyatt were there. And then Oz was next to her and telling her to go. She had one last chance and she had to take it.
Now or never, Annika
.

Her mother had pushed her, and Oz had brushed her hand in a last good-bye as they both were swallowed by the light and Annika was sucked into the darkness of her own skull.

Creed’s hand came up to brush her cheek, and she realized she’d been crying. “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

“I’m going to leave you two alone.” Dev stroked her hair gently. “I’ll be back after they move you to your room.” He gestured to Ruch, who was messing with her IV. “How long will she be in the hospital?”

“We won’t know anything until we run some tests to check the state of her healing, but given her condition now, I’d say no more than a couple of days. We’ll know more by morning.”

Dev nodded. “I’ll be here first thing.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, and after giving Creed a pat on the shoulder, he was out of there.

“I’m sorry I scared you, Creed,” she said, as soon as Dev disappeared.

“Don’t.” His black eyes, which were bloodshot and rimmed with red, sparked with ferocity. “You are what you are, Annika. You protect those you love, and you do it on instinct.” Closing his eyes, he dropped his head so it rested on her hand. “It’s why you’re going to be such a damned fine mother.” He lifted his gaze, and her breath caught at the intensity in his expression. “And wife.”

Annika’s stomach tightened into a knot of terror … and then, just as abruptly, it was gone. She and Creed had never talked about marriage, at least, not about
them
getting married. She’d told him often enough that she didn’t believe in it. How could anyone promise to be so committed to one person?

But she had a baby—and Annika was beyond committed to the child. Forever. And if meeting her own mother in the Great Beyond wasn’t proof that a person could remain dedicated no matter what, then nothing was. Annika was tied to both Renee and Creed … in life and death.

So, as he drew a little velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond solitaire, she knew what she was going to say.

“
What the fuck?
You’ve had that in your pocket? For how long?” Okay, not what she thought she was going to say, but her mouth had always been disconnected from her brain.

“Awhile.” Creed looked absolutely terrified, had gone pale, making his facial tattoo stand out in stark blackness. “So, Annika? Will you marry me?”

Tears stung her eyes, and Creed went even paler, no doubt thinking she was about to say no. But that word had just been deleted from her vocabulary. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll so marry you.”

Falling forward, he gathered her in his arms. “I love you, Ani. God, I love you.”

She grinned against his neck. “I love you too.” The feel of his
heavy body against hers was a comfort she never wanted to be without. “I didn’t think I’d ever be so happy or be part of such a wonderful family.” Even as the last of her life-after-death experience faded from high-def to mist, she remembered one crucial detail. “Speaking of family, I found out who my dad is.”

Creed pulled back slightly, just enough so that she could look into his gorgeous eyes.

“Who?”

“Let’s just say,” she said as she plucked the ring from the box and wiggled her finger into it, “that you’re marrying into royalty.”

He groaned. “And I thought you were hard to live with before.”

“Baby,” she whispered against his lips, “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Don’t let her go before I can say good-bye
.

Stryker’s last words to Devlin—and Devlin nodding—before the medication took over completely.

When he woke, he was in his room, in his bed, and it was dark out. Three in the morning. There was a message on his answering machine that Annika had pulled through, thank God.

He showered, trying to wake himself up, because he was still foggy from whatever strong shit Dev had shot him up with—a necessity, for sure—and then he dressed quickly. Knew where he needed to be.

He was in the process of sneaking down a hospital hallway when Creed came out of Annika’s room and they practically ran into each other.

“I saw Mel … but I didn’t get to say good-bye,” he explained, running his hands through his still damp hair and realizing he sounded like a rambling idiot. “I heard Annika’s all right—I’m glad. I didn’t like the way we left things … and the baby and labor and shit.”

He turned away from Creed and just tried, like, breathing.

“Dude, come on, turn around,” Creed said quietly. “You’ve been through fucking hell, okay? You look wrecked—sound wrecked.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He turned to see Creed had his hand on the door leading to Annika’s room.

“Come on in here and sit down—Annika’s awake.”

“I’m sure I’m the last person she wants to see,” Stryker muttered.

“No, definitely not the last,” Creed said with more sympathy in his voice than Stryker could stand, but he followed the man inside.

He owed as much to Annika anyway.

She was sitting up in bed, the baby sleeping next to her in a bassinet. These hospital rooms were more like hotel rooms than anything—at least the ones for the recovering patients. There were no machines in here, and Annika looked as healthy as ever.

“You look good, Annika,” he said, because he didn’t know how else to start. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Wyatt and Faith had a big hand in healing me. And you … you had a big hand in saving Devlin.”

“No, that was you,” he pointed out.

“Both of us,” she said, and he didn’t argue.

“Look, you were right about not trusting Phoebe,” he said. “I’m not saying I couldn’t trust Mel, because I’ll never believe that. They’re two separate people. But Phoebe never should’ve been allowed to get that close to you and Dev and the baby. I’ll never forgive myself …”

He couldn’t finish. Needed to get the hell out of here, because he still had more true fucking confessions to get out, and he needed air.

“Stryker, wait.” Annika’s voice stopped him from leaving. “Don’t go—not like this. I get it, okay? You don’t need to apologize for believing in someone you love.”

He did believe. But he also knew Phoebe had left a trail of
death behind her yesterday, including her two guards and a trainee, according to the email he’d seen on his phone on the way into the hospital.

He’d shut down his phone after that. And now he didn’t know what else to say to Annika.

“Go to Mel,” Creed told him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, left Creed and Annika and the baby behind, because the need to see Mel was too great to ignore. The halls were pretty silent, just light beeps from monitors coming from some of the rooms.

As he approached Mel’s room, he saw a nurse leaving and he slid in before the door closed—it was a locking door, just in case, as if Mel was still somehow a danger to all of them.

Even in death, Mel couldn’t shake Phoebe and the distrust of everyone around her.

She was in the same position as before, long hair hanging limp around her shoulders, tubes everywhere, her hands down by her side—and he walked to her and lowered a rail, pulled a chair over so he could rest his head near hers.

He took her hand in his as well.

“Sorry I left before. If I could’ve stayed … I would have.” He paused. “It’s just that I might have taken down the hospital, with you in it, and you don’t deserve my temper like that, Mel. I don’t know why I couldn’t tell you I loved you before all this. Because I do—but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. You paid a heavy price for being attached to Phoebe … at first, I didn’t want to believe, and forgiving you was even harder. But now I know you did nothing that needs forgiveness.”

He watched the blinking lights on the monitors, wished he could pretend the perfect waves for the heartbeat were really hers and not the life-support system. And still, he continued to talk to her.

“I wish you’d had more time here. I would’ve taken you all around—showed you where I used to sneak and hide when I didn’t want to go to school or practice.” He reminisced as
though she could hear him. “I hated school—all the paperwork and memorizing shit. Although geography was cool … I needed that. I liked studying the terrain of different countries, and earth science too, discovering where the fault lines in each continent were … all of that felt like such a part of me.”

He remembered other things from that time too … things that had kept him up, tossing and turning at night. Things he’d never told Mel, and he knew he wouldn’t get the chance if he didn’t admit them now. “I realized then that I could take my gift and put it to damned good use—I could help people. At least I thought I could.” He paused then, wondering if he could say it all out loud and knew that he could’ve told Mel anything—that she, of all people, would’ve understood.

“It’s hard for a kid who thinks he can master the universe to realize that sometimes he’s simply a pawn in Mother Nature’s game. Usually, she’s well ahead of me and I found myself chasing my tail trying to predict earthquakes and the like. It was a horrible feeling, realizing that I was going to lose at that most of the time. When I can’t help people in a natural disaster situation, it kills a part of me. Maybe that’s how I understood why you hated losing control to Phoebe so much. Because I hated not being able to control the earth to the point of stopping the disasters. It sucks to have partial control over things …”