Tangled Fates (7 page)

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Authors: Carly Fall,Allison Itterly

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Adventure

BOOK: Tangled Fates
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“That holds thirty round of ammunition,” Pinstripes said.

“I know,” Cohen said.

“Why would anyone need thirty rounds of ammunition?”

Cohen recalled a couple battles with Colonists where he wished he had more.

“Would you want to own one of those?”

Cohen shrugged noncommittally. They had two at the silo, and Cohen remembered the

first time Annis had shot the gun. They were out in the middle of the desert at night at their

makeshift gun range where they had set up a bunch of milk jugs on a fifty-foot wooden table

they had built. At first, her aim had been all over the place, but after a couple of minutes, she

gained control over the gun, and her shots were tight, knocking down forty-eight of the fifty jugs.

“Those type of guns should be outlawed.”

Cohen tried to ignore the guy, his irritation growing.

The smile on Annis’s face when she had mastered the beast was proud and sexy, all at

once. Hudson and Noah gave her a high-five, and Blake hugged her. The jealousy that tore

through him watching those two embrace was off the charts, but then Mia shimmered to life next

to Annis, reminding him what a rat bastard he was.

“You should sign this petition to let our lawmakers know that we don’t need guns like

this out on the street. We don’t want to take away all guns, just ones like these,” Pinstripes said.

Cohen stared off into space. Mia. She always hated weaponry and didn’t understand why

he wanted to join the military. The fight that had ensued had been the worst of their mating, and

she only accepted it when she realized how happy he was. However, she had strict rules that he

wasn’t to talk about his work with her—she simply didn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t you agree?” Pinstripes said.

Cohen shrugged. He couldn’t imagine anything he cared about less than human politics.

None of the Warriors did, but Noah groused every now and then at the increasing taxes he had to

pay.

Cohen looked over the gun again. He imagined being mated to a female like Annis,

someone who shared his interests. What would that be like? To be able to discuss Warrior stuff

such as guns and fighting? A female who enjoyed a good action flick? It would be different, and

definitely something he had never experienced, even with the human women he had been with.

Hell, with the human women he had been with, there were very few words exchanged, except

maybe about birth control.

And his whole line of thinking pissed him off.

“So what do you say? Will you sign the petition?”

Cohen sighed and looked at the man. “What are you? Some member of an anti-gun

group?”

The man smiled. “Well, sort of. We aren’t anti-gun, just anti-assault rifle. Burt

Flemming,” he said, sticking out his hand and flashing his teeth, “I’m with—”

“I don’t give a fuck who you’re with,” Cohen said. “And why the hell are you at a gun

show?”

“I’m trying to educate—”

Let me tell you something, Burt old boy.” Cohen set the gun down. “See this gun?

Laying here like this, it’s nothing but a hunk of metal.”

Cohen picked up the box of ammunition next to the gun. “And see this? These are

harmless as well.” He grabbed the gun again in one hand and the ammo in the other. “Even when

you put them together, in the hands of a responsible person, they aren’t dangerous.”

Cohen knew he was going off the deep end. It was a regular occurrence these days. He

would have never snapped at this guy under normal circumstances, but “normal” had jumped

ship almost eleven months ago. “But when you put them in the hands of someone a little

unstable, like me, for instance, then that’s when shit goes wrong!”

Burt backed up, and Cohen thought about loading the gun just to make his point. He

wouldn’t actually shoot the annoying asshole. Well, probably not.

Noah and Hudson appeared at his side, one taking the gun, the other the ammo.

Hudson pushed Cohen toward the door as Noah apologized to Burt.

“You think about that, Burt!” Cohen yelled.

“Jesus, we can’t take you anywhere,” Hudson said, turning Cohen around and pushing

him toward the door.

Cohen shrugged him off. “I never asked you to,” he growled.

Chapter 7

Annis paced the small apartment, focusing on the papers she held in her hands.

After getting Laura on a plane, they had made a mad dash back to Susan’s apartment.

Annis noted that the man she had beaten and his car were now gone, except for the bloodstain in

the snow.

They had entered the empty lobby of the apartment building, double-checked the

apartment number for the now-dead Susan Kresper, and headed for the elevator. Blake had

quickly picked the lock, and they were in.

Annis had felt nothing when she sliced the woman’s throat. She wasn’t joyful, sickened,

or upset. It was just something that needed to be done. The woman had been a descendant of

Jack the Ripper, a Colonist. And based on her arrest record, as well as what Annis had seen with

her own eyes, the woman deserved exactly what she got. However, she also knew that she had

blown the mission. The information gathering had been blown right out of the water, and she

wondered what Noah and the other Warriors would say.

The apartment was a cramped one-bedroom. There was a tidy living room with two old

threadbare green couches and a coffee table that had seen better days. Both couches faced a large

flat screen television. Behind the couches was a small kitchenette, also neat and tidy. The appliances looked old, but the only thing Annis had to compare to them was the shiny appliances

in Hudson’s kitchen.

The bedroom housed a neatly made queen-sized bed covered in a forest-green quilt. The

walls were pained a sea-foam green.

“The woman liked green,” Blake mumbled as they toured the apartment. Annis noticed

Blake kept the gun to his side as they looked around, which was a good thing. They had no idea

if Susan had company.

When they had gone over every inch of the apartment, including closets, looking under

the bed, and behind the shower curtain, Blake had sat down on the sofa and grabbed the laptop

from the coffee table.

“I noticed a small filing box on the kitchen counter, Annis. Why don’t you start going

through there and see what jumps out at you.”

She had looked at a few pages, but was unsure what she was looking at.

“It’s a bank statement,” Blake said after she brought the paper over to him. She bent over

the back of the couch, their heads almost touching. She could smell his cologne, which reminded

her of clear, fresh, cool winter days. “You’re looking for large deposits.”

As she paced the small apartment, she looked over the papers. On the kitchen table she

piled up the papers with the large numbers, and on the kitchen counter were the ones she deemed

not important.

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes,” Blake said.

“What?”

“Not only was she a child trafficker, but it looks like she was also into kiddie porn.”

Annis walked over to the computer, confused as to what kiddie porn was. Just as the

image changed, a shiver crawled down her spine. She didn’t see the picture in detail, but she had

seen enough. How could a person do that to a child? This detail Blake had revealed only made

her more certain that she had done the right thing by ending the horrid woman’s life.

Memories of her own experience in captivity started to filter through, coming out of their

locked cage within her mind. How the government doctor had strapped her to the table. The

needles stabbing her eyes. How she had prayed for someone to save her, but wouldn’t give the

doctor the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She shut her eyes and fought the memories,

desperate to keep them barred from her conscious mind.

After a moment, she opened her eyes and met Blake’s stare.

“Are you okay, Annis?”

She forced a smile and nodded. “I was just thinking how fortunate we were to get to

Laura in time.”

Turning back to the papers in her hand, she continued pacing. When she reached the

kitchen, she stifled a yawn and noted the time.

“Blake, I will be blind in about an hour.” Her eyes would cease to function when the sun

came up.

“Shit. Okay. Let me see what you’ve got and then we’ll boogie.”

“Boogie?”

“We’ll get the hell out of here.”

Annis laughed. “I thought the boogie was a dance. I thought you were going to spin me

around the room.”

Blake stepped up to her and smiled. Taking her hand, he slowly turned her in a circle.

Annis felt the temperature in the room spike, her cheeks became warm, and a slow burn

developed within her.

When she had completed the circle, he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her close.

Her breath hitched as she was certain that she was about to be kissed for the first time. A little

ripple of fear tore through her, and she remembered how Liberty had told her that a sexual

experience with the right male was a wonderful and beautiful thing, filled with waves upon

waves of pleasure. She would not let her secret past dictate what was going to happen in her

future. Or right now.

Suppressing the fear, she tried to even out her breathing. What would his lips feel like on

hers? She was certain it would be wonderful. Perhaps they would kiss here, and when the got

back to the hotel room they would—

“I suck at dancing,” Blake said, “but I’ll kick your ass at darts.”

He gave her a wink, then said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Annis struggled to catch her breath as they left the apartment.

Chapter 8

Cohen stared at the white screen on the wall in the War Room. Annis and Blake were

speaking to the Warriors from New York, their heads crammed together so they both fit on the

screen.

Noah wasn’t happy.

“It was supposed to be a recon mission. End of story. And you two ended up killing her?”

Noah said, exasperated.

“We didn’t have a choice, Noah. We caught her in the midst of selling a child,” Annis

said.

“Oh, Christ,” Noah mumbled. He rubbed his face and sat back in his chair. “Okay, tell us

what happened. From the top.”

Cohen looked around the table as he half-listened to Blake and Annis tell the story. All

the Warriors were present, and they hung on every word that Blake and Annis said. Cohen knew

he should be paying more attention, but the only thing he could think about was if Blake and

Annis were sleeping together. They seemed like two peas in a pod, perfect for each other in

every way. They were always laughing together. Blake was more than happy to train with her,

while the other Warriors were still uncertain of her and acted like she would break if they

touched her wrong. They were used to gentle females, not a strong, capable Warrior such as

Annis. Cohen didn’t understand why the thought of Annis and Blake sleeping together bothered

him so much, or why he was even thinking about it at all.

Because you want to sleep with her, you idiot. And you are one of the most despicable

people on this planet for even thinking about it.

“Whoa,” Noah said. “Back up. Who killed Susan?”

Cohen’s bet was Annis. Why, he didn’t know. Maybe it was because he liked her better

—or hated her worse—depending on which way you looked at it.

Annis and Blake exchanged a glance, then Annis looked out at them. Her golden eyes

were blazing as she tossed some beads over her shoulder. “I did,” she stated flatly.

There were a couple of low whistles around the table. He had been right. Cohen just

stared at her realizing his respect, and therefore his hatred for her increased. The female was

fearless, as well as strong and capable. He no longer had those traits within him, and he wondered if he ever would again.

He remembered a time where he was honorable and respectable. He had grown up in the

forests and learned to harness his healing gift at a young age. His parents had helped him

understand the importance and weight of such a gift, and once word had spread throughout the

Forest Dwellers that there was a true Healer among them, they had come in flocks.

And it was through those flocks of people that he had perfected his craft. He often

couldn’t do much to heal the elderly, and there was something within him that was very

accepting of that. However, he healed who he could, fusing their energy with his own, and

moving around their body to mend whatever ailed them.

It became such a burden. He felt he needed to be available at all times, and it drained

him. Not only did the healing expend a great amount of energy, but so did knowing that there

was always someone who was in need of his gift.

After a few centuries, it all became too much, and he and Mia had run away to the city

where he had learned what life was like without the constant strain of people wanting him or

needing his attention.

It was there he had met Rayner, and they became fast friends. Cohen had convinced him

to join the military, and they were two very gifted souls on a path to who knew what.

He did know that if he had had a crystal ball at that time and could see a few centuries

into the future, he wouldn’t have signed up, and probably would have hightailed it back to the

forest. Even the stress of someone always wanting you wasn’t as bad as the stew of witches’

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