Tangled Fates (8 page)

guilt-shit he had brewing within him.

In short, he was one fucking mess, and there was nothing hot about him or what he had

going on inside.

The guilt over his philandering while away from his
lovren
ate at him. It was truly a beast

that lived within him, consuming him slowly, its jaws sluggishly chewing away at his very soul.

He had thought about trying to tap it down, but he deserved whatever came to him, he

sincerely did. He was a cocksucker of mega proportions. Hell, he probably deserved death, and

frankly, he kind of hoped it came. It had been almost a year since he found out he was stuck on

this rock called Earth and that he would never see home, or his
lovren
, again.

Fucking life.

The first time he had strayed from his mating vows was seventy-five years after they

arrived. It had been a frigid night in New York. They had struck out yet again on the Colonist

front—it had turned out to just be a piece-of-shit human, just like the very dead Susan Kresper.

Cohen had been alone at the rooming house they had checked into while the other Warriors were

out and about, doing whatever they did during the day when they weren’t searching for

Colonists. All except Noah, of course. He was upstairs sleeping, getting prepared for the next

hunt. Cohen sat at the small bar and drank whatever the still had produced, feeling desperate for

a connection with someone.

His thoughts were hazy from the liquor as he thought of Mia. He remembered her fear

when they had first run away to the cities, her awe of the high, golden towers.

“My
lovren
, we shall forever be lost here!”

And that was what he had wanted. He had wanted to be lost in a place where no one

knew him, where he had a fresh start as a male, not a Healer. Where he was spoken to because of

what he said, and people wanted to be around him because of who he was, not what he was. In

the forest, it had gotten so overwhelming always being wanted and needed, and never really sure

if people were being kind because he was in demand, or because they actually enjoyed his

company. He had relished the sheer privacy the large cities brought him, but Mia hadn’t. She

fought the change in their surroundings, and also battled him on whether he should join the

military. Being a Forest Dweller, she was peaceful, and he was as well. However, he had wanted

a new career, something that involved him being a part of something, not being
the
something, as

he was as a Healer.

He remembered thinking that loneliness was a strange thing. It didn’t matter how many

people were around; one could still be lonely. He had gone from being happy with no one

knowing who he was, to desperate for a connection with anyone. As he’d sat in the bar, there

were three other male patrons and the bartender. Yes, there were people around, and he had even

struck up conversations with two of them who seemed nice. However, the isolation had seeped

into his bones, making him feel anxious and . . . well, lonely.

She’d strode into the bar, her dark-blue velvet dressed cinched tightly at the waist

flattering her ample bosom and the flair of her hips. Her shoes clacked across the wooden floor,

and she perched herself on a barstool. Turning to him, she smiled. Black hair framed porcelain

skin that covered high cheekbones and thin lips. The smile never reached her dark eyes. Cohen

pegged her somewhere in her thirties.

“Hello,” she had said with a nod.

“Good day.”

They both faced forward, and Cohen listened as she ordered a drink.

The barkeep set down the glass in front of her, then went down to the other end of the

long slice of mahogany to chat with another patron.

“It’s lovely out today, don’t you agree?”

Cohen remembered being startled and turned to her. Yes, it was lovely outside; it was

what he had going on inside that he wasn’t too fond of.

Two hours and a few drinks later, Cohen had her in the room he shared with Rayner, the

bed squeaking beneath their weight. After, he had almost cried at the sheer joy the experience

brought him. It wasn’t just the physical release, which was off-the-charts awesome, but it was the

sheer act of sharing something intimate with another being. From then on, he sought out the

experience.

Now, as he scratched the scruff on his chin, he tried to focus on the screen, his eyes

shifting back and forth between Annis and Blake. His brain was so scattered it felt like it was in a

million pieces, each struggling to get away from the others. A box of a thousand marbles

dropped on the floor didn’t have a damn thing on how he felt.

Except both were messy.

Noah was lecturing Annis that she simply couldn’t go around killing people, and that it

was imperative that they stay under the radar, although how far under they were was up for

debate. Blake had come from the FBI, and all were fairly certain that he was a solid addition to

their merry band of Warriors. But, having said that, who knew what the FBI had been able to

scrape up since his disappearance into the world of the Six Saviors.

Cohen didn’t see much radar for them to hide under, but whatever.

“Do you understand, Annis?” Noah asked.

Cohen watched as she moved closer to Blake, and the tops of their arms crossed. Were

they holding hands? Did she reach for him in comfort, or for strength? Was she grabbing his leg?

His cock? Would they enjoy the privacy of a hotel room after this pleasant, little chat ended?

And why did he care?

Because at his core, he found Annis the most beautiful, forceful, amazing, intelligent, and

funny female he had ever laid eyes on.

And he hated her for it.

Suddenly, Mia shimmered on the screen, just behind Annis’s shoulder, a reminder of

what a shitty mate he was, how he had broken his vows, and how he would never love another.

He got to his feet quickly, the need to get out of the room as urgent as if the place was

burning to the ground.

“Where are you going?” Hudson asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business. I just need to get out of here,” Cohen said quietly,

and made his way to the door. Behind him he heard, “Bye, Cohen.”

He didn’t answer; he didn’t acknowledge he had been spoken to. But while the words

from that soft and deep, yet feminine, voice vibrated within him, lust and hate fought for first

place.

Chapter 9

Blake ended the Skype chat with the Warriors and exhaled slowly. It had gone better than

he’d thought it would. He knew Noah would be upset that Susan had ended up dead, but there

really wasn’t a choice. Now they just needed to find out how the child trafficking ring Susan was

involved in worked, who the other players were, and if any of them were Colonists.

He stood up and looked around the room. They had made it back to the hotel just before

dawn, and both had crashed and slept until just before dusk. Blake had gotten busy with Susan’s

computer, and Annis lay in bed waiting for her sight to return with the setting sun.

When it had, they ordered room service and called Noah. Now they were waiting for their

food.

Blake paced around the room. It was a nice place. They were staying at the Westin in

Manhattan and decided that getting one room would be the best course of action. Abby, Noah’s

mate, had made reservations for them, getting them into a one-bedroom suite. Blake gave Annis

the bed with the cream-colored comforter and black throw pillows, while he took the dark-brown

pullout couch. He had definitely slept on worse. The walls were painted in the same cream color

as the bedspread, while the desktop and coffee table were a shiny black. The carpet reminded

him of the color of the desert floor—a light dirt color.

“I’m going to take a shower, Blake,” Annis said.

He nodded and continued to pace.

They were scheduled to leave in the morning. The original assignment had been two

nights of watching, studying, and maybe a little B&E or a possible chat with Susan. Those two

nights had turned into a couple of hours, then a murder.

But whatever. Honestly, the world was better off without people like her.

Blake sat down at the desk and opened up Susan’s laptop, pushing his own aside. He

hadn’t had much time to go through things last night, so he was hoping that tonight would yield

some results so that they weren’t at a dead end.

While he waited for the computer to warm up, he grabbed the remote and flipped on the

TV. As he cruised the channels, he thought about last night.

Had Annis wanted him to kiss her?

God knew he had wanted to. He was so attracted to her that the thought of her in the

shower, naked with white soapy bubbles running down her chocolate skin just a few feet away

from him, made his jeans uncomfortably tight.

Yes, he wanted her, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he wasn’t making a

move. It just seemed like the wrong thing to do. Maybe it was because they were such close

friends and he didn’t want to screw it up. Or maybe it was because they were such close friends

and you weren’t supposed to want to take your friends to bed. Or maybe it was because he was

afraid she would reject him.

Sighing heavily, he ran his hand over the stubble on the top of his head. He had never

been unsure of himself when it came to women. He took what he wanted when it was offered,

and chased down and charmed their pants off when it wasn’t.

But Annis was different, regardless of her being an SR44ian, and he wasn’t sure why.

Not that he had bedded very many SR44ians in his time. No, his score on that was a big, fat zero.

There was just something about Annis that held him back, and he couldn’t place his finger on it.

He stopped his channel surfing at the evening news and saw Susan’s face come up on the

screen. He turned up the volume.

Susan Kresper, age thirty-two, was found dead this morning in an alleyway not too far

from her home. Police have said that there is little evidence, and they have no leads.

Perfect.

The TV switched to some footage of the outside of Susan’s apartment.

According the apartment manager, security cameras haven’t been working for

approximately six months, so they won’t be of any help to the investigation.

Well, that was a bonus. All of it had gone down so quickly last night that he hadn’t even

given any thought to security cameras.

Then, of course, the perky reporter had to interview Susan’s neighbors. They described

her as quiet, a good neighbor, a person who kept to herself and didn’t try to connect with her

fellow apartment dwellers.

The camera came back to the reporter who was standing at the mouth of the alley where

Susan had been killed. A woman in her thirties with blonde hair hanging to her shoulders in soft

waves and serious blue eyes stared into the camera with her best I’m-a-serious-reporter look.

Blake pushed the off button on the remote when he heard the bathroom door open.

“What were you watching?” Annis said. Blake turned to her.

Annis stood there, a white towel around her torso, another in her hands as she dried her

hair. He watched as the muscles in her arms rolled under her skin as she gently pressed the towel

to her braids. He wanted to rip the towel from her torso, take her down on the bed, and make her

scream in pleasure, but something held him back, just like at Susan’s apartment the night before

when he had pulled her close. He had wanted to kiss her with everything in him, but he just

couldn’t. Instead, he had said something brilliant about darts.

He just didn’t get what was holding him back.

“Just the news,” he said. “They had a piece about Susan.”

“What did they say?”

Blake shrugged and turned back to the desk, trying like hell to focus on the computer in

front of him. “Nothing. They don’t have any leads or evidence.”

“Good.”

He listened as Annis rummaged through her suitcase, then he heard the click of the

bathroom door.

Rubbing his hand across his face, he once again wondered what was wrong with him.

Chapter 10

Annis sat in the Great Room of the silo in Fernley, Nevada, not wanting to be in her

bedroom where she had woken from the same nightmare that haunted her almost every night, or

day, depending on when she slept.

Her and Blake had arrived back in Fernley just a few hours ago, and both had gone to

their respective quarters almost immediately, claiming exhaustion, which had been the truth for

her.

But the dream always took care of that.

When they had arrived on Earth, Annis had been hurt and unable to run when the FBI

descended on them. She had gone quietly into custody, not really prepared for what would

happen to her. They had given her a shot, which rendered her unconscious. She had woken blind,

not knowing where she was, but lying on what felt like a bed. After a few moments of listening

to her surroundings, she thought she could hear another person in the room.

“Who are you?” she had asked, sitting upright.

The rustling stopped, and footsteps came toward her, echoing off the floor.

There had been no answer.

Something touched her shoulder, and she brushed it away. Then fingers caressed her arm,