Taken by Fire (23 page)

When it was over, she was trembling with post-orgasmic exhaustion, and Stryker was hunched over her, fists planted on the table on either side of her head, eyes closed.

“You’re going to kill me,” he breathed. “Damn, Mel … you’re going to kill me.”

He meant it in a way that should have given her warm fuzzies. Should have made her grin from ear to ear, and maybe it would have if she didn’t feel Phoebe starting to stir and knew that it was almost time to head to the cave.

Instead, she closed her own eyes so he wouldn’t see the fear in them. The fear that what he’d said might actually happen.

“Baby, maybe you should sit down.”

If there was any way to get Annika to
not
do something, it was to suggest she do it, and she shot Creed a glare as they strolled around ACRO’s little park. Darkness had closed in, and the duck pond was quiet, the ducks having settled in the grass with their beaks tucked into their wing feathers.

“I need to walk,” she gritted out. She’d been restless all day, had been cleaning like a madwoman, grocery shopping, and now she wanted to work out. Obviously, spending two hours in the gym wasn’t an option, but she could wear out the ACRO sidewalks.

“Why don’t we go home, and I’ll give you a backrub?”

“I’d rather you gave me an orgasm.”

“Another one?”

They’d been screwing like rabbits for the last couple of days—her obstetrician had given them the green light, and as a plus, it might trigger labor. Excellent. Because she was so ready to not be pregnant anymore.

Creed, on the other hand, seemed to want to plug her up and keep her fat, as if maybe the kid could just grow to adulthood inside her. He never said anything, but she was pretty sure he was still freaked out by his brother, Oz’s, prediction that if she had Creed’s baby, she’d die. Or something like that.

Oz was so full of shit.

Someone was walking toward them from the direction of that ridiculous cave Dev had built for Phoebe, his gait clipped, stiff, and Annika’s temper surfaced. She’d talked to Dev a couple of hours ago, and when he told her about the deal with Stryker and that murderous bitch, she’d come uncorked.

Annika marched—well, waddled—right up to Stryker. She must have looked as pissed as she felt, because when he saw her, he halted, his stance wide, shoulders back, and his expression shuttered.

“Annika, no!” Creed grabbed her arm, but she jerked out of his grip, closed the distance between her and Stryker, and struck him hard on the cheek. His head whipped to the side, but other than that, he didn’t react.

“You bastard,” she snarled. “How could you? How could you be fucking the woman who murdered your best friend?” Next to her, Creed’s presence was a comfort, and she felt him go taut, as though he expected Stryker to react badly, maybe violently, to what Annika had just said and done. Creed was so overprotective lately. Not long ago, that would have driven her nuts, but she’d sort of grown to enjoy it.

“It’s not that simple,” Stryker said softly.

“It seems pretty simple to me,” she snapped. “I get that she’s Dev’s sister, so he has an excuse to be a little mush-brained when it comes to her. But you? You saw what she did. You heard Akbar’s screams.” Annika still heard them sometimes.

Stryker swallowed, his gaze tripping away for a second. “It wasn’t Mel—”

“Yeah, yeah. It was Phoebe. Whatever. I don’t trust either
one of them, and what are you thinking, letting her run around loose?”

“Only Mel gets to be free. We’re locking up Phoebe.”

Annika snorted. “You can’t contain someone like that. Trust me.” The baby kicked, and she winced, pretty sure a foot was lodged in her throat. “How old was she when she started training? When she went to Itor to be their product? Because I’m telling you, she doesn’t think the same way the rest of you do. She’s a machine. A cold, hard killing machine. She’s hardwired for two things: killing and survival. She will
not
be contained.”

Annika knew, because she had been raised that way, and it was a miracle that she’d turned out okay. The fact that she’d still been a teen when Dev saved her was probably a factor, as was the fact that although she’d practically been born to be a trained assassin, the CIA hadn’t been particularly cruel. She could only imagine what Itor had done to Phoebe … Mel—whoever the hell she was.

“Rik was a killer when she came here too,” he pointed out, but she shook her head.

“Not the same thing. Rik was forced to do the things she did. Phoebe does it willingly. And she enjoys it. You can’t cure psycho.”

“We’ve taken precautions,” Stryker said. “It’ll be okay.”

“Okay?” She jabbed him in the chest with a finger. “I promise you, this will not end well. She
will
get out, and she
will
end up killing someone. God help you if she kills someone I care about.”

“Ani.” Creed’s voice was low, soothing, and it brought her down a notch. Maybe half a notch. “We should go.”

“Oh, no. I’m not done with him—” She broke off with a gasp, as a sharp, stabbing pain ripped through her belly.

“Annika?” both men said simultaneously as they caught her arms.

Fuck, that hurt. She’d been shot, stabbed, beaten, run over by
a car … and yeah, this kid was kicking her ass. Wetness bloomed between her legs, and then became a gush down her legs.

“Annika!” Creed’s voice was as panicked as she’d ever heard it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s time,” she groaned. “Get me to medical. Baby’s coming.”

S
tryker was finding it hard to breathe. Annika had been ushered off by Creed and he’d uselessly sat down on the nearest steps and buried his head in his hands and wondered how things could be so damned good and so damned shitty all at once.

Trance was sitting next to him. Stryker had no idea when the man had arrived, but he’d been apparently waiting patiently for him to pull it together and stop hyperventilating.

Probably why the man’s hand was on the back of his neck, holding his head between his knees.

“You all right?” Trance asked as he peered down at him.

“My neck hurts,” Stryker growled.

Trance snorted and let him up. “You were hyperventilating.”

“Thanks for saving me,” Stryker said, with more than a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. “I’ll have to owe you one.”

“You can come work out with me, then. Ender was supposed to train with me but he’s, ah, busy.”

Stryker raised his brows. “Kira’s in heat already?” Ender was mated to Kira, an animal whisperer who literally went into heat every spring and needed to be serviced, quite often. Usually, halfway through the season, Ender cried uncle and Kira’s needs were satisfied with the sperm he banked for that express purpose.

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

“No. But he’s practicing. Asshole’s determined to do it without any help this year.” Trance stood, and yeah, just what Stryker wanted now, to practice sparring with an excedo who could literally throw him through a wall with no effort.

Still, it would keep him sharp.

After a quick walk to the excedo gym, Trance and Stryker suited up. Rather, Stryker suited up so he wouldn’t be beaten to a fucking pulp while Trance trained.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” Trance asked as Stryker deflected a hard blow to his gut.

“No.” Clenched teeth. Sweating already, and goddammit, this was the worst idea ever.

“Have it your way.” Trance slammed him across the back, sent him flying face-first into the mat, and stood with a foot on Stryker’s back.

“What the fuck? Is this humiliate Earthquake Boy day?” he grumbled.

“Don’t make me beat it out of you,” Trance told him.

Stryker thought back to the day before last, with Rik’s howls ringing in his ears … the way Mel looked under the waterfall.

He’d never look at an icicle the same way again. And the guesthouse … the smile he’d gotten when she realized she had a place of her own. He’d thought the warmth of that moment could hold him through anything. But the look on Annika’s face, her accusations …

Just then, Trance moved, and Stryker bounded up. Got a good slam or two across Trance’s face before he spoke.

“I put Ani into labor,” he panted as he ducked Trance’s blows. Or tried to anyway. But Trance had him in a choke hold, and suddenly Stryker didn’t feel like playing this bullshit game any longer.

The ground rumbled slightly, enough to make Trance pull back from Stryker and stare at him. “You’ve been able to control that shit before.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I can’t anymore.” Stryker sank to the mat and leaned back with his palms down.

Trance walked over to the fridge to grab a couple bottles of water, tossed one to Stryker, who caught it one-handed.

He drained the water and hoisted himself up, but Trance stopped him from leaving the gym. “We’re not done.”

“Yeah, we are.” Stryker flung the empty bottle in the trash and swung back around to Trance. “How do you do it?” he asked suddenly, almost viciously. “You live with a killer. You love one. How?”

Trance had him on the ground and pinned by the throat, a sound dangerously close to a growl Rik would normally emit ringing in his ears. “Don’t you ever call Rik that. Understood?”

Stryker managed to nod. Trance let him up and then said, “Besides, the woman you’re currently fucking has the same reputation. So maybe I should ask you what it feels like.”

Those words made Stryker see red. The floor rumbled again and he went headfirst into Trance’s gut. And Trance let him. As the men slammed to the ground, Stryker willed himself to stop before the gym collapsed on his head. If that didn’t kill him, Devlin would.

“So you’re falling for her,” Trance said as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it was. But nothing seemed natural about Mel and her dual personality.

Mel
. “Yeah,” he admitted. “And I thought I’d reconciled everything that happened with Akbar. So why do I sometimes still feel like I’ve betrayed him?”

“It’s not going to go away all at once. And you know as well as I do that everything comes at a price. Especially love.” Trance shook his head. “It was a battle, Stryker. It could’ve easily been you instead. Akbar knew he was in danger every time he went out on a job.”

“But I’ve fallen for the woman who killed him—sort of, anyway.”

“I thought you said they were separate people,” Trance said.

“They are. I know they are. But Ani …”

“Fuck Annika,” Trance said. “I mean, come on, she’s suspicious of everyone. She’s almost as bad as Ender.”

“I think she’s worse.”

“She’s also hormonal and terrified of losing her powers forever,” Trance pointed out. “Mel is dual-natured, just like Rik. And Annika still calls Rik a werewolf experiment or some shit like that.” Trance grimaced.

“How the hell did you do it, Trance?” Stryker heard his voice crack and yet he couldn’t look away from the man who was married to a woman whose other half had killed his father.

Trance looked up at the ceiling, his face betraying the emotion he felt. “It wasn’t easy. But in the end, I loved her more than I hated what she’d done.”

“So you don’t hold her responsible?”

“No more than I hold you responsible for something that’s not your fault,” Trance said, broaching an always sore subject with Stryker. “Just because you can’t predict disasters in time to save people doesn’t make you responsible for their deaths. Some things are out of your control. Some things were out of Rik’s control too. And it sounds like Mel would do anything to get her life together, even putting herself in the hands of people she knows want to kill her for what she—her sister—did to their friend.”

“What can I do?”

“Love her. Help her. Believe in her. Because you’ll be doing it when no one else can. And you’re the only one who really counts.”

C
reed held the baby girl in his arms and felt his knees shake. Kept staring between her and Annika as if he feared this could all crumble and disappear at any moment. Because Oz was so rarely wrong—if ever.

But Annika had come through the labor and delivery just fine; in true Annika fashion, it happened quickly, with a minimum of drama and a great show of strength.

She hadn’t asked for—or seemed to need—any drugs or an
epidural. But in the end, that was a good thing, because the baby came in record time—under an hour from the minute she’d felt her first contraction.

“I told you I’d be fine,” Annika said softly. She looked tired but happy. Glowing, actually. “And she’s great.”

Creed still didn’t believe it, but the proof was right in front of him.

Dammit, Oz. Why did you feel the need to scare me half to fucking death during her pregnancy?
“I guess we’re just one big, happy family, then.”

But Ani was frowning a little.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you think … I mean, you were given the tattoos as protection,” Ani said. “Maybe?”

They stared at the tiny girl with the perfect skin and saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Mine didn’t come out right away,” Creed said, not sure if he wanted his daughter tatted up the same way he’d been.

Granted, he didn’t think she’d have much choice in the matter. That was up to Oz’s magic and whatever kind of deal he’d struck with the powers that … tattooed.