Taken by Fire Page 26

  Thank God they’d called the ACRO day care as the plane landed and made sure Aimee was fine. Kira and Haley had dropped off all the kids there before the christening, so at least Faith didn’t have to freak out about that. But still …

  Faith scanned the crowd, her heart pounding so hard against her ribs that it hurt. Please don’t let it be Renee …

  Relief nearly buckled Faith’s knees when she saw Haley holding Annika’s baby, but in a heartbeat, sheer, utter terror replaced the relief, because why wasn’t Annika holding Renee? And Jesus, Creed was … coming apart at the seams.

  No one could calm him. He was pacing, thrusting his hands through his hair. His eyes were red-rimmed, face pale, and when anyone touched him, he jerked away as though his skin hurt. And Dev … he was just as distraught, though he, at least, was allowing Gabe to hold his hand as the younger man sat next to him in total silence.

  Faith and Wyatt pushed their way through the crowd to the front, just as the facility’s medical director and head surgeon, Matthew Ruch, appeared in the waiting room doorway. His scrubs were rumpled and damp with sweat, and his expression said it all.

  The “We did all we could” wasn’t even fully out of his mouth when Creed slapped his hands over his ears and hit the floor in a crack of kneecaps.

  Crying out, Faith rushed toward Creed, but Wyatt caught her by the arm and dragged her down the hall after the doctor. “What are we doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Wyatt said. “But maybe we can do something. Hey, Dr. Ruch!” The doctor paused, swinging around as though expecting to get beaten to a pulp. “Let us see her.”

  “I don’t think that’s—”

  “Now.”

  Wyatt didn’t get angry often, didn’t assert himself with any kind of aggression except once in a blue moon, but when he did, people paid attention.

  Ruch inclined his head in a brief nod and led them to the operating room, where staff was unhooking Annika’s body from various machines. Wrappers, gauze, and surgical instruments littered the floor, sitting in pools of blood. Faith wanted to throw up.

  “I’ve never done what you’re thinking about, Wyatt,” she whispered.

  “I know. But when you were bleeding out after Cujo’s attack, I saved your life with the powers you taught me to use. We have to try.”

  Faith didn’t remember anything Wyatt had done that day, when Rik’s beast had nearly ripped Faith’s throat out as she took a walk outside TAG headquarters, but Wyatt’s use of his power had saved her life when, by all rights, she should have bled to death.

  Faith snapped into action. “Ruch, you’ll assist us. Get your team back.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “Do it!” Faith walked around the operating table to Annika’s left side as Wyatt went to the right. “And don’t tell anyone what we’re doing. We don’t want to raise any hopes.” It was probably cruel to let Creed and everyone else mourn, but it would be even more cruel to let them believe that there was a chance this would work, because if it didn’t …

  God, this was horrible.

  Wyatt pulled back the sheet covering Annika’s body, and Faith forced herself not to react. Annika’s skin was gray, her chest cracked wide open.

  Faith charged up her power and felt Wyatt do the same. As biokinetics, they could manipulate bodily functions and heal wounds, but neither she nor Wyatt had tried it on something as major as this.

  “I’ll get her blood circulating if you do what you can to repair her heart,” Faith said, and Wyatt went right to work. Next to her, the doctor barked out orders; within seconds, machines were switched on and fresh blood was being pumped into Annika through two central IV lines in her neck.

  Summoning as much power as she could handle, Faith focused on Annika. Usually, people—and animals—were surrounded by an aura she would have to penetrate in order to access the body. But there was nothing around Annika, so Faith punched her gift straight into her organs. She did a quick probe of the damage—damn, the bullet had ripped through Annika’s heart, lungs, aorta. Shards of bone had penetrated flesh as well as organs, and holy fuck, no wonder surgery had failed.

  Ruch had repaired a lot of the damage, but clearly, he couldn’t work fast enough.

  Well, this was where Faith and Wyatt had an advantage. They might not have medical degrees, but their powers worked ten times faster than any surgeon could, and as the medical team watched in awe, Faith grabbed Annika’s heart with her power and squeezed it into a pumping rhythm. Blood bubbled out of wounds with alarming gushes, and Ruch’s quick application of suction, as well as an infusion of blood through the IV, helped keep Faith from a full-blown panic attack.

  Carefully, she split the threads of her energy and used the other to ease bone shards out of tissue while healing the flesh behind them.

  Wyatt went to work on the shredded cardiac muscle as Dr. Ruch guided both of them to the most critical places and gave them instructions on exactly how to fix the massive ruptures.

  Faith didn’t know how long they’d been working when her power began to wane. She heard one of the nurses mention something about two hours, which seemed about right. Faith had tested herself a few times, working with her power nonstop to see how long she could last.

  She’d never gone over two hours and seven minutes.

  Wyatt was hurting too; his skin was pale, glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration. “Babe,” he rasped. “If we don’t get this done soon …”

  “Yeah.” They were both running low. “Doc?”

  Ruch swallowed audibly. “The repairs are almost finished.”

  God, the room was hot. Faith’s muscles were alternating between cramping and turning to gel. Hurry … hurry …

  “Done,” Ruch said. “If you guys can keep her heart pumping, I’ll close her up, and we’ll see where we are.”

  Between the two of them, they kept Annika’s blood moving through her veins. Finally, after what seemed like a century, the doctor was finished.

  His gaze lifted to meet Faith’s, the dark circles behind his glasses standing out starkly in the glow of the overhead lights. “You can stop now. This either worked or it didn’t.”

  Wyatt’s power cut off. Faith began to tremble. “I … can’t.” Right now there was hope. If she stopped … Annika could be dead. Truly dead.

  She sensed more than saw Wyatt come around the table. He slung his arm around her shoulders. “Let go, baby. We did all we could.”

  Tears stung her eyes as she cut herself off.

  Annika’s heart didn’t beat.

  “Paddles!”

  A sob tore from Faith’s throat. Wyatt dragged her away from the table as Ruch and the others leaped into action. He put the paddles to Annika’s chest, and Faith looked away, unable to bear watching as they tried to shock Annika back to life.

  Ironic really, given that Annika had used her powers to shock people out of life.

  After the third try … nothing happened. It was over. Annika was truly gone, and—

  “We have a pulse!” Suddenly, machines began to beep crazily, and the heart monitor went from flatline to jumping around to settling into a steady stream of peaks and valleys.

  “We did it,” Faith rasped. “Oh, my God, we did it!”

  Ruch shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t give a shit how good of agents you are in the field,” he said, “I’m asking Dev to have you assigned to my hospital.”

  Wyatt wouldn’t go for that, and in truth, Dev couldn’t assign Faith to do anything. She wasn’t an ACRO agent. Technically, she was still in charge of TAG, but she’d been toying with the idea of leaving the England-based agency. The work required too many overseas trips, and now that she had a daughter and Wyatt was wanting to grow the family again soon, it was maybe time to stay closer to home.

  So the idea that she could use her powers to save lives … intriguing. “We’ll talk about it,” she promised. “Now, can we celebrate?”

  Ruch nodded. “We won’t know for sure how
much, if any, permanent damage has been done until she wakes up, but her brain wasn’t without oxygen for long, so hopefully we won’t have to worry about that. For now, though, let’s go ahead and give Creed the good news.”

  “Doctor!”

  Faith and Wyatt spun around to the nurse, who was gaping at Annika. Annika, whose eyes were wide open and aware. Faith grabbed her hand, and though the other woman couldn’t speak, thanks to the intubation tube, she was able to communicate just fine through the tight squeeze of her fingers.

  “I’ll get Creed,” Faith said. “Hold on.” Leaving everyone behind, Faith raced down the hall, and after being directed by a nurse, she sprinted to the chapel, where Haley and Remy were pacing with Renee.

  Haley’s eyes were swollen, tortured, as she gestured to Creed, who was hunched over on a bench, his face in his hands. Dev was sitting next to him, motionless as a stone. “We can’t get him to leave. He won’t leave Annika.”

  “She’s alive,” Faith said, and ignoring Haley’s gasp, she ran to Creed and Dev, and sank to her knees in front of them. “Wyatt and I … doesn’t matter. Creed, Dev, Annika’s alive. She’s in the operating room. She’s awake.”

  Slowly, Creed lifted his head, and Faith recoiled. She’d never seen such devastation in her life. “I lost her.” His voice was a gravelly rumble, as dead as he thought Annika was.

  “No, Creed. Listen to me. Wyatt and I used our powers. The doctor operated while we helped heal her. We got her going again. Creed … she’s alive.”

  It took about five seconds to sink in, but once it did, Dev and Creed leaped to their feet and burst out of the chapel. Faith followed them, grinning as they slammed into the operating room.

  “Ani?” Creed skidded to a halt at her side, his entire body trembling. “Jesus, Ani, you’re okay.”

  Annika blinked slowly, an assurance that, yes, she was all right. Wyatt folded Faith into his strong arms as the storm of emotions swirling inside of her broke, and she dissolved into tears. Annika was okay. But life was so fragile, and death so devastating.

  “Let’s go home,” she said against his chest. “Let’s hug Aimee until she gets sick of us, and then let’s get to work on a brother or sister for her.”

  An approving sound rumbled up from deep in Wyatt’s chest. “I’m so lucky I have you.”

  “I feel the same way about you, love.” She looked up to see the room filling with ACRO personnel, despite Ruch’s insistence that they’d be able to visit after Annika was moved to the recovery room. “I feel the same way about all of them. How lucky we are.”

  It took a little time for the death haze to wear off.

  Annika stared at all the people in her hospital room as the doctors and nurses fussed over her and removed annoying equipment like intubation tubes. Of course, they had to work around Creed and Dev, who parked themselves at her bedside and refused to move until the medical people finally figured out that if they said “This is important,” the two would bound out of the way.

  It would have been amusing if Annika’s chest didn’t hurt so bad, and if she wasn’t struggling to hold on to the memories of being … dead. With every passing minute, the details faded, and there was so much that was important. Oz, her mother, her father …

  The docs and nurses were talking, telling her to expect things and do things—little pinch here, pressure there, breathe out hard. Mostly, their voices ran together, but when Creed spoke, his words punched straight through the drone from everyone else.

  “Annika?” Creed squeezed her hand as the intubation tube came out of her throat. She coughed, gagged, and shit, her throat was going to be sore for a week.

  “R-Renee,” she rasped, and Haley stepped forward with the sleeping infant.

  “I haven’t let her go except to change her,” Haley said. “She’s fine.”

  Dr. Ruch cleared his throat. “I need you all to clear out. Once we move Annika to her room, you can see her.”

  Everyone obeyed except Creed and Dev, who gave Ruch looks that dared him to make them leave. Wisely, he didn’t say a word.

  “How are you feeling?” Creed asked, and Annika scowled.

  “Like I got shot.”

  “Damn you,” Dev breathed, as he took her other hand. “What you did was stupid. Reckless.” He inhaled raggedly. “And you saved my life.”

  “Payback.” She smiled weakly. He’d saved her years ago when he’d rescued her from a miserable existence on the run, and then he’d given her a life here at ACRO. “So,” she said, “how am I here? I died.”

  “Faith and Wyatt,” Creed said, and then he frowned. “How do you know you were dead?”

  She swallowed, winced at the tenderness. “Saw it. I was with Oz. And my mom.” Dev and Creed exchanged glances, like maybe she was crazy. “I’m not crazy. Oz … he said that what happened was what his prediction was about. And he was on his way out of here permanently.” She swallowed again and glanced at Dev. “Said he told you and Gabe good-bye.”

  Dev nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.”

  “So you saw your death?” Creed asked. “How did you come back?”

  The hazy memories were like a rubber band, being stretched impossibly thin, and at any moment they’d break and she’d have nothing. “I don’t know. I was with my mom. She was telling me things. We were in the light, but then I was being pulled back.”

  Her head throbbed as she struggled to remember how she’d seen her body surrounded by medical people. Faith and Wyatt were there. And then Oz was next to her and telling her to go. She had one last chance and she had to take it. Now or never, Annika.

  Her mother had pushed her, and Oz had brushed her hand in a last good-bye as they both were swallowed by the light and Annika was sucked into the darkness of her own skull.

  Creed’s hand came up to brush her cheek, and she realized she’d been crying. “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

  “I’m going to leave you two alone.” Dev stroked her hair gently. “I’ll be back after they move you to your room.” He gestured to Ruch, who was messing with her IV. “How long will she be in the hospital?”

  “We won’t know anything until we run some tests to check the state of her healing, but given her condition now, I’d say no more than a couple of days. We’ll know more by morning.”

  Dev nodded. “I’ll be here first thing.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, and after giving Creed a pat on the shoulder, he was out of there.

  “I’m sorry I scared you, Creed,” she said, as soon as Dev disappeared.

  “Don’t.” His black eyes, which were bloodshot and rimmed with red, sparked with ferocity. “You are what you are, Annika. You protect those you love, and you do it on instinct.” Closing his eyes, he dropped his head so it rested on her hand. “It’s why you’re going to be such a damned fine mother.” He lifted his gaze, and her breath caught at the intensity in his expression. “And wife.”

  Annika’s stomach tightened into a knot of terror … and then, just as abruptly, it was gone. She and Creed had never talked about marriage, at least, not about them getting married. She’d told him often enough that she didn’t believe in it. How could anyone promise to be so committed to one person?

  But she had a baby—and Annika was beyond committed to the child. Forever. And if meeting her own mother in the Great Beyond wasn’t proof that a person could remain dedicated no matter what, then nothing was. Annika was tied to both Renee and Creed … in life and death.

  So, as he drew a little velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond solitaire, she knew what she was going to say.

  “What the fuck? You’ve had that in your pocket? For how long?” Okay, not what she thought she was going to say, but her mouth had always been disconnected from her brain.

  “Awhile.” Creed looked absolutely terrified, had gone pale, making his facial tattoo stand out in stark blackness. “So, Annika? Will you marry me?”

  Tears stung her eyes, and Creed went even p
aler, no doubt thinking she was about to say no. But that word had just been deleted from her vocabulary. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll so marry you.”

  Falling forward, he gathered her in his arms. “I love you, Ani. God, I love you.”

  She grinned against his neck. “I love you too.” The feel of his heavy body against hers was a comfort she never wanted to be without. “I didn’t think I’d ever be so happy or be part of such a wonderful family.” Even as the last of her life-after-death experience faded from high-def to mist, she remembered one crucial detail. “Speaking of family, I found out who my dad is.”

  Creed pulled back slightly, just enough so that she could look into his gorgeous eyes.

  “Who?”

  “Let’s just say,” she said as she plucked the ring from the box and wiggled her finger into it, “that you’re marrying into royalty.”

  He groaned. “And I thought you were hard to live with before.”

  “Baby,” she whispered against his lips, “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  Don’t let her go before I can say good-bye.

  Stryker’s last words to Devlin—and Devlin nodding—before the medication took over completely.

  When he woke, he was in his room, in his bed, and it was dark out. Three in the morning. There was a message on his answering machine that Annika had pulled through, thank God.

  He showered, trying to wake himself up, because he was still foggy from whatever strong shit Dev had shot him up with—a necessity, for sure—and then he dressed quickly. Knew where he needed to be.

  He was in the process of sneaking down a hospital hallway when Creed came out of Annika’s room and they practically ran into each other.

  “I saw Mel … but I didn’t get to say good-bye,” he explained, running his hands through his still damp hair and realizing he sounded like a rambling idiot. “I heard Annika’s all right—I’m glad. I didn’t like the way we left things … and the baby and labor and shit.”

  He turned away from Creed and just tried, like, breathing.