Tangled Fates (24 page)

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 splashed 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—”

She stopped mid-sentence as her eyes slowly faded from the glowing gold to an onyx

black.

Cohen sat up in bed. It was fascinating watching the gold slowly disappear into a

pinpoint, then nothing but blackness.

“What’s that like?” He was truly curious, but not as a Healer, because he knew there was

nothing that could be done for her lack of sight during the daylight hours. It was the body she

had been given, and it couldn’t be fixed. However, he did want to know what she was

experiencing.

She shrugged her shoulders and hesitated for a moment before she answered in a soft

voice, “It used to bother me, but then I realized it is just part of who I am now.” She smiled. “It’s

just one flaw of many.”

Cohen smiled. He admired her so much.

His stomach growled, and he realized he was starving. Both him and Annis hadn’t had

anything to eat since that awful dinner at the police fiesta, except noodles and broth. He needed

to get both of them fed.

“I’m going to grab a five-minute shower, Annis, and then you and I will head upstairs

and get something to eat. I make a mean PB&J. Then, I’ll escort you back to your quarters so

you can rest.”

She stood and said, “What is a PB&J?”

Cohen smiled, not quite having enough energy to laugh, and frankly, he didn’t really feel

like it. “Peanut butter and jelly. Breakfast of champions. But don’t tell Hudson I said that. The

male would have a serious meltdown hearing that one.”

With Annis standing and giving him a few feet of space, Cohen got out of bed. Even

though he knew she couldn’t see a blessed thing, he still felt odd standing there in front of her

with his cock jutting out like a torpedo from his hips. He quickly found some boxers and slipped

them on. He walked her over to the black overstuffed chair and she sat down.

“It sounds good, Cohen. I don’t believe I’ve had that combination before. And don’t need

you to escort, me. I’m perfectly capable of getting around by myself.”

He turned and looked at her. “I know you are, Annis. But please, let me do it. Friends

help friends, and I have a lot of shitty behavior to make up for.”

Annis smiled and gave him a slight nod. “Very well, my friend.”

Chapter 41

Blake yawned and stretched out his legs in front of him, the leather chair creaking under

his weight. His sleeping habits were all over the map. Once again he’d been up all night and

most of the day. Now it was almost dinnertime, and he was tired and crankier than an old woman

without her
Wheel of Fortune.

He listened to Rayner and Hudson talk about the menu for tonight as they waited for

Noah, Nico, Cohen, and Annis to join them in the War Room. Everyone else was present.

“Why can’t you make something with bacon, Hudson? It’s not just a breakfast food.”

“That shit will clog up your arteries like glue, Rayner. If you want that, fine, but the rest

of us don’t need to be subjected to it.”

“Everything is better with bacon, Hudson. Maybe wrap a chicken breast in it or

something? You just wait. One of these days they're going to come out and say that bacon is

good for you. Remember when eggs got the bad rap and now they say that you're supposed to eat