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  “Christening?”

  “It’s the talk of the base. Everyone is invited to the party afterward.” She glanced at her watch. “Party should be in about half an hour in the reception hall.”

  “Where’s the christening?”

  “Hospital chapel. Down the same street, but take a left instead of a right. The chapel is connected to the south side of the medical facility. You can’t miss it.”

  “Excellent.” Phoebe threw her arm around Alda’s shoulders, doing the buddy thing as she guided her toward the side of the building. “Thank you. ACRO people are just so freaking friendly.”

  “No problem—” Alda let out a gasp. Last one ever, given that Phoebe had broken her neck.

  She tucked the body into the bushes, brushed off her hands, and grinned as she hoofed it to the chapel. When it came into view, her adrenaline spiked, jacking her up with a rush that no amount of cocaine could match.

  Overhead, puffy white clouds meandered across the bright blue sky. Birds chirped and flitted around in the trees that lined the sidewalk. A cool breeze made the manicured lawn ripple and the flowers around the chapel wave. It was all so cheery. So perfect. Justice loved beautiful weather. Truly, it was a sign that Dev deserved what he was going to get.

  As Phoebe approached the door, she reached beneath her shirt and palmed the pistol grip. Through a narrow stained-glass window, she saw Dev standing on the stage and wearing a smile that said everything was right with his world.

  He was so very, very wrong.

  “This,” she said softly, as she reached for the door handle, “is for you, Daddy.”

  It was weird to think that Annika actually had friends she could ask to come to her daughter’s christening, weirder yet that one of those friends was close enough to ask to be the godmother.

  Not long ago, even though Annika had been at ACRO for years, she hadn’t had friends. It wasn’t until Creed came into her life that Annika had opened up, allowing herself to let others in as well.

  And now, Haley Holmes Begnaud stood with Dev and agreed to care for baby Renee as if she were their own.

  The little hospital chapel on base was full of people who had come for Creed and Annika, and the thing was, most of them had hated her since the day she arrived, a cold-blooded, vicious, out-of-control teenager. So to see Kira and Ender, Trance and Rik, Marlena and Chance, Sela and Logan, Brenna and Hex, Ryan and Coco, Gabe, Remy, Stryker … and so many others who had worked with her over the years, was almost … miraculous.

  Then there were the conspicuously empty seats, the places where people should be sitting, but whose losses had taken a toll on so many here.

  Still, this was a happy time, when ACRO was celebrating a new life in the midst of so much death, and Annika wasn’t going to let herself sink into sadness. She only wished Wyatt and Faith’s plane from TAG headquarters in England hadn’t been delayed, because she’d have loved for them to be here too. They’d promised to make it for the reception party, though, so they’d be arriving soon.

  Creed was holding Renee … it was so cute to see the big, tattooed, pierced guy holding a tiny infant so gently, the smile on his face bigger than Annika had ever seen. She’d really thought that things between her and Creed couldn’t get any better, but in the days since Renee’s birth, Annika had never felt so blissful. Content.

  Oh, she couldn’t wait to get back to the gym to burn off some of the baby weight, was looking forward to getting back to work … eventually. Right now she just wanted to enjoy her family and marvel at how far they’d all come.

  The door to the chapel flew open, and everyone jerked around, expecting Faith and Wyatt. Instead, Melanie burst inside … with a pistol.

  Phoebe.

  Insanity and hatred so powerful Annika felt it on her skin burned in Phoebe’s eyes as she raised the pistol and aimed directly at Dev’s heart.

  “No!” Annika dove to shove Dev out of the way, the blast of the shot ringing in her ear.

  Chaos broke loose. Pain ripped through her chest. She stumbled, but remained upright as another roar of gunfire shattered the air. Blood bloomed around a bullet hole in Phoebe’s forehead, and she fell dead in the aisle. Shocked, Annika cranked her head around and gasped at the sight of Stryker standing in the pews, his pistol still aimed at where Phoebe had been standing, a skinny wisp of smoke curling upward from the barrel.

  Holy shit, he’d just killed the woman he loved. The flat, emotionless, dead expression on his face said his brain hadn’t quite caught up with what he’d done. He’d acted on instinct, and there was no doubt that when … what? The rest of the thought wouldn’t form.

  Why were her legs giving out? And why were people screaming her name?

  Everything moved in slow motion even as the room tilted and Annika found herself on the floor. Her hearing cut out, but she could read the lips of those gathering around her. Annika … Annika, can you hear me?… Someone get a fucking doctor!

  Creed was on his knees next to her, but where was the baby? “Renee,” Annika said … or tried to say. Her mouth was moving, but only blood was coming out. Shit. Had she been shot?

  A gray haze formed over her vision, growing darker, until her sight joined her hearing in the Land of No More.

  And then, the weirdest thing. She was standing over everyone. Well, floating, she supposed. She saw her body lying in a pool of blood, saw the massive bullet wound dead center in her chest. Medical staff was rushing in, some stopping to deal with Phoebe, who even Annika knew was a lost cause, and others shoving people out of the way to get to Annika.

  Creed and Dev were yelling at the doctors, and Haley was standing to the side, crying, holding Renee tightly in her arms. Thank God the baby was okay.

  “Ooh, CPR.”

  Startled, Annika turned to the big man standing next to her. “Oz. You’re dead.”

  He gestured to Annika’s motionless body, where hospital personnel were pumping her chest and squeezing breaths into her lungs with an Ambu bag and mask. “I’m seeing a pot-kettle moment here. Medical people don’t perform CPR on live people.”

  “So this is death? Being stuck with you is what I get?” She looked around. “Is this hell?”

  “Funny.”

  “Why isn’t Phoebe here?”

  “Probably because she really did go to hell.”

  Fuck. He was serious, wasn’t he? She watched everything happening below, and though her heart was breaking for Creed, she couldn’t cry. Dead people shed no tears, apparently.

  “So what now?”

  Oz shrugged. “You either stay and hang out like a pathetic ghost, or you go into the light to the Other Side.”

  “What light?” Even as she said it, a golden beam burst through the stained-glass window behind the organ on the stage. A beautiful tranquillity emanated from it, a strange, lovely buzz that drew her.

  But so did the people below. They were her light. “I don’t know anyone over there,” she whispered. “My family is here.”

  “No, Annika,” came a female voice, “your family is here too.”

  Annika looked over to the golden glow, her jaw dropping and her heart—which she was pretty sure wasn’t beating in her physical body anymore—racing. “M-Mom?”

  The willowy tall, blond woman Annika remembered only from hazy memories smiled. “You’re so beautiful. And you gave me a gorgeous grandchild you named after me.”

  “You were taken from me—”

  “Shh. I’ve always been with you.”

  “What about my father?” It was a question that had truly never mattered to Annika—she’d never lived in the past, and spending time in pursuit of an answer seemed like a colossal waste of time. But with her mother here, well, might as well ask.

  Renee gestured into the light. “Come with me, and you’ll learn the answers to everything you’ve ever wanted to know.”

  Or she could hang out with Oz and haunt all the people she loved. She watched as her body was loaded onto a stretcher and rushed out of
the chapel. Dev and Creed followed, their expressions haunted, eyes liquid with the stark truth of her situation.

  “This was what you meant when you said I’d die if I had Creed’s baby, isn’t it, Oz?” Annika hadn’t died in childbirth, but she wouldn’t have been here for the christening if not for the little girl, so in a way, this had happened because she had the baby.

  He nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t know how it would go down, but I knew something would happen.”

  As Haley, pale-faced and trembling, walked out of the chapel with Remy’s arm around her shoulders and with baby Renee in her arms, sleeping with utter obliviousness, Annika smiled. This sucked, but if Annika could go back in time, have an abortion, or use better birth control … she wouldn’t. That precious baby was worth a bullet.

  Annika flew into her mother’s arms, instantly remembering how she’d always smelled of the ocean. “Tell me,” she murmured. “Tell me everything.”

  It won’t be much longer now, Stryker …

  Stryker’s arm was still raised. It took Trance a few minutes to wrestle the pistol out of his aching grip, and even then Stryker felt made of stone.

  He was freezing, was actually aware that his teeth were chattering, as if he was still under the waterfall with Mel. In her arms. Kissing her.

  But there was no waterfall in sight and his arms were empty, just like his heart. The sound of the gun firing echoed inside his head, the gunpowder burned the air. And still, it hadn’t been fast enough to stop the killing.

  He watched the now chaotic scene in front of him as if it was a bad movie. It was like it was happening to someone else, not him. Because if he wasn’t involved, it hadn’t happened. It wasn’t real.

  You should go to her. To Mel. But his feet remained glued to the floor, because he knew it was pointless.

  He’d shot to kill, and it had been a long time since he’d missed his mark. Emotions welled inside, threatening to overtake him, and he knew that would be very, very bad.

  The walls of the chapel shook as if grieving with him. He knelt on the stone floor, vaguely aware that other agents were nearby.

  Oz said you’d marry a virgin … he never said you’d kill her too … or that she’d die before you got a chance to tell her you loved her—or, hell, have the damned ceremony.

  His grief was overwhelming. There were men and women on all sides of him, trying to keep him calm. He looked up and saw a doctor with a syringe, waiting to see if she’d need to use the sedative to save the compound from destruction.

  He tried to breathe. Forced air in and out, but it sounded harsh and unnatural, like he was breathing through a straw.

  “She’s dead,” he said, over and over again. For what seemed like forever, no one said a word in response. And then finally, there was a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up.

  Devlin.

  “She’s on life support.” Dev’s eyes were red-rimmed as he spoke the words. “She’s brain-dead, Stryker. There’s no hope. I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry,” he murmured, because he didn’t know what else to say—or who to say it to. Mel knew the whole time this would happen. That didn’t make it her fault, but maybe Stryker should’ve protected everyone—himself—better. “Annika?”

  “Ani’s in surgery.” Dev spoke to him so gently, the way he had when Stryker was younger and afraid of getting in trouble for causing earthquakes. “They’re doing everything possible to save her.”

  His eyes flicked to Dev’s face. “But it was too late to try with Mel.”

  “Yes.”

  “So why is she on life support?”

  “I wanted to say good-bye to her. I thought you would want the same,” Devlin explained. “Come on—off the floor. We’re going outside. Walk with me.”

  Stryker hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Two hours. The chapel was nearly empty. Bloodstains marked the spot where Mel had lain on the cold floor.

  The cold wouldn’t have bothered her.

  Devlin was practically pulling him along, out of the chapel and into the dusk. They walked for a long while, around the compound, as if Stryker could walk off his grief and anger. “You have to hold it together.”

  “I know, Devlin.”

  Dev stopped in front of him. “Listen to me, Stryker. You saved me.”

  “By shooting your sister,” he said hollowly.

  “And the woman you loved.” Devlin’s voice cracked. “I can’t imagine what kind of decision that was.”

  “She made me … Mel, she made me promise to do that if Phoebe was going to hurt any of my friends again. She said I’d forgiven her once for what happened to Akbar, but she didn’t think we’d get through it a second time.” Stryker heard the words coming out of his mouth, his voice sounding raw, like he’d been screaming.

  It had been hard to promise her. But far more difficult than anything he’d done in his lifetime to actually carry out her wishes.

  She’d been right—they’d never get past Devlin’s death if Phoebe had gotten her way. He wasn’t even sure if he could get over the fact that Annika was dying … that Annika had been right about not trusting Mel.

  Phoebe. Not Melanie. Although Mel had to suffer because of her sister, again. And this time, she’d paid the ultimate price.

  This time, so had he.

  “I need to see her,” he told Dev.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Maybe tomorrow—”

  But Stryker had already begun walking toward medical, leaving Devlin little choice but to follow. And, although the building was no more than five minutes away on foot, it seemed to be the longest damned walk of Stryker’s life.

  News of the shooting had spread quickly—the other operatives were giving him a wide berth. Some darted sympathetic glances his way, others had fire in their eyes.

  It didn’t matter. They didn’t know Mel the way he did … the way he had.

  His throat tightened and he willed himself not to break down before he got there. He owed her that much, owed her a good-bye.

  But when he got to the door, he turned to Dev. “Did the doctor give you the hypodermic with the sedatives?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Don’t be afraid to use it.” With that, he walked into the room and over to the bed.

  She had a bandage wrapped around her head and was hooked up to machines … so many damned machines and tubes breathing for her. She was pale, her once supple lips white. With a trembling hand, he held hers, the familiar coolness of her palm somehow calming him for the moment.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “I didn’t want it to come to that … but I kept my promise. I kept my damned promise.”

  The tears started to fall and he brushed them away with his free hand impatiently. “Mel, I didn’t tell you before—should have … I love you. I really, truly love you. Always will.”

  It was too much then. He dropped her hand and turned to the wall. Punched it. Put his forehead to it and felt the walls begin to shake under the will of his grief.

  He was vaguely aware of Devlin calling his name, shaking his shoulder. But he didn’t respond. Devlin would save the building, he knew that. He felt the prick of the needle in his arm and he didn’t resist, let Devlin drug him into sweet oblivion.

  The scene from the chapel replayed itself over and over in Creed’s mind, no matter how many times he tried to turn it off.

  Annika jumping in front of Devlin. At one time, that would’ve been enough to make him jealous, make him believe that Annika could never fully love him the way she loved Dev.

  Now Creed knew that Annika had enough for both men—more than enough.

  Kat was chattering in his ear, clinging to him tightly, and he stared down at his hands—one blank, one covered in tattoos—and he wondered what good it was to be protected when the woman he loved was left vulnerable.

  Dammit, Oz … dammit all to hell.

  You’re the one who didn’t listen to him, he told himself. But looking
at Renee, he realized there had been no way around this. If Annika hadn’t had their baby, if he’d denied her the opportunity to become a mom, he’d never have forgiven himself.

  It had been mere days, but Annika had changed because of Renee. Fundamentally, she’d grown up, once and for all.

  And now the love of his life, mother of his child, was in surgery. Dying.

  He knew that as surely as he knew his name.

  Oz’s predictions were never wrong. Never.

  And right now, he hated his brother for that. For everything. And even though he literally felt Oz, knew he was close by to comfort him, Creed shut him out.

  “I do not want to talk to him, Kat,” he said finally.

  He’s trying to talk to you, Kat insisted.

  “He can fuck off,” Creed growled under his breath, paced the hallway in a futile attempt to literally get Kat off his back.

  He realized he was also angry at Ani, for not believing him … for not taking Oz’s predictions seriously.

  For leaving him alone like this.

  As he struggled to take back that last thought, the double doors that led to the OR opened and Creed resisted the urge to slam them shut, to send the doctor back to Ani and tell him not to come out until he had the right answer. The only one Creed wanted to hear—and the one he knew he wouldn’t.

  We did all we could.

  The words weren’t even out of the surgeon’s mouth yet and Creed heard Kat’s screeching in his ears. He covered them, even though he knew it wouldn’t help—it never did—and he let Kat pull him into his own pool of grief, so deep it threatened to drown him.

  Faith Kennedy knew something was wrong the moment she and Wyatt stepped inside the chapel. After getting off the plane, they’d gone straight to where the party should have been, but the hall had been empty. Wyatt figured that the christening had been delayed, so they’d headed to the chapel.

  Only to find it empty, and with blood on the floor.

  “Shit!” Wyatt grabbed her hand, and they were running out of the chapel and down the medical facility’s hall to the emergency department, where everyone who had been invited to the christening was waiting. On who?