The Anomaly Trilogy Boxed Set

by Hackett, Anna

  The left side of his face was burned and his hair singed. His left arm and chest were horribly charred, the remnants of his shirt melded to his skin.

  Mara’s stomach roiled. He needed help. Fast.

  “Bay? Sean?” She pressed a finger to her ear . Her earpiece was missing. She ran her hands around the ground. Nothing. Cal’s was melted beyond recognition.

  She leaned down, pressed her cheek to his uninjured one. “Hang in there. I’ll get help.”

  The lack of response cracked her heart.

  She looked up, her gaze snagging on the smoldering remains of the building and the scorched earth around it. Leven had lured them in and sprung his trap.

  No, he’d reeled her in. Cal had wanted to wait. She bit down hard on her lip and the bright, metallic taste of her blood splashed across her tongue.

  The rumble of an engine had her spinning and shielding Cal’s body. A rusted old pickup truck bumped its way over to them.

  Shit. Cal was too big for her to move. There was nowhere to hide.

  The truck stopped and a plantation worker jumped out. The small man frowned at them and gestured wildly, speaking in a flurry of Indonesian.

  “We need help,” she urged. “Please.”

  He continued his wild tirade, pointing at the main buildings. She saw a rush of activity—armed men—headed their way.

  No. “Please. Hospital.” But they were isolated here. Hours from the nearest town with any facilities. “Doctor?”

  The man looked at Cal then back at her, a deep frown on his face.

  “I’m sorry.” She stared deep into his nut-brown eyes until they glazed over. “You’ll take us to the nearest hospital or clinic, anyone who can help him.”

  The man simply stared ahead.

  Mara growled in frustration. Of course he didn’t speak English. How stupid of her. Pushing her fear down, she tried to stay calm. “Doctor. Doctor.” Surely that had to get through. She gestured at Callahan.

  The man moved like an automaton and crouched beside Cal’s head. He slid his hands under the larger man’s shoulders and Mara scrambled to grab Cal’s booted feet.

  With some grunting, they managed to get Cal into the bed of the truck. He didn’t regain consciousness but he groaned. She climbed in the back, cradling his head in her lap and pressing her back to the cab.

  “Shh. I’ve got you.” She smoothed a hand down the uninjured side of his chest and he quieted.

  Looking up, she saw Leven’s goons getting close. They were running now, machine guns held high.

  “Go!” She thumped the window behind her.

  The truck’s wheels spun as they fishtailed away from the burning building. Leven’s men got off a few shots, but the truck pulled onto the dirt road leading away from the plantation.

  The road was rough, jostling them. Cal didn’t make a sound but his skin was sheened in sweat. He had to be in agony.

  “I’m sorry.” She brushed at his dark hair. “It’s my fault you’re hurt.”

  She had no idea how long they spent driving. Seconds turned to minutes and then hours. The road got rougher and the vegetation lining the road denser. Worry for Bay and Sean was a constant ache. Had the pair escaped? Found somewhere safe to hole up?

  But mostly Mara worried for the man in her arms.

  He was the backbone of Haven. So many anomalies depended on him. He was strength and power and now he was helpless.

  No, he had her. Her fingers curled around his thick wrist. She would do everything she could to help him.

  The truck slowed. She arched her neck, saw a flash of a village as the vehicle pulled to a stop.

  Nestled amongst the trees, wooden huts topped with thatched roofs were built up on stilts. Children playing in the open area between the huts stopped, watching with wide eyes. Some adults, dressed in a mix of Western T-shirts and local clothing moved toward them.

  The driver exited the truck and called out. Several men came over.

  Before Mara knew what was happening, they were sliding Cal out of the truck. “Where are you taking him?”

  The driver spoke but she had no idea what he was saying. He waved at her to follow. She scrambled out of the truck and hurried behind them.

  They headed for a larger building surrounded by a large deck. A wizened old woman sat at the top of the steps, legs crossed, smoking a homemade cigarette. She watched them impassively, her gaze sliding over Mara, Cal’s prone form and then moving to scrutinize the driver.

  Mara swallowed, wiping her palms on her trousers. This didn’t look like a hospital and Cal’s face was now gray. “Are you a doctor?”

  The woman blew out a lungful of smoke then called out in a high pitched voice.

  Another woman appeared in the doorway. She was young and slim, her skin a shade of rich mocha. Thick, dark hair fell down her back. When she saw Cal’s burned body she turned and gestured them inside.

  Mara moved into the house and watched the men place Cal on a pallet of blankets on the floor. The young woman bustled around, collecting things from a wooden chest against one wall. The men left and two young boys came in carrying large bowls of water.

  The woman knelt beside Cal and began to mix some herbs and water in a small bowl.

  Mara moved closer. “Can you help him?”

  The woman didn’t reply. Her dark head was bent over the bowl, her concentration on her work. Then she leaned over and prized Cal’s lips apart. She fed some of the paste into his mouth.

  His body jerked and he turned his head to the side.

  “What is it?” God, Mara felt useless. She knelt by his head and pressed one hand to his shoulder. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

  “Will help…with pain,” the woman said in halting English.

  “You’re a doctor or a nurse?”

  The woman shook her head. “Healer.” She gestured to Cal.

  Healer would have to do. Mara lifted his head a little and helped the woman give him some more of the concoction. Then she pressed a tin cup to his lips and carefully dribbled some water into his mouth.

  Moments later, Cal’s entire body seemed to relax. The woman then sat back and began washing his wounds.

  God, the burns were bad. Deep in some places. Mara felt tears well in her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d cried. It never helped. It hadn’t helped when her family tossed her out or her ex stomped on her heart or when she’d been trapped in Leven’s cell. She’d vowed never to cry again.

  She couldn’t seem to control it now.

  She needed air. She pulled back, desperate for some privacy.

  “No.” The woman grabbed her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. “You help him. He is calmer.”

  She looked at him, saw the taut lines on his face, the deep grooves around his mouth. She let her fingers move over his forehead, careful to avoid the burns. He turned into her touch, his breathing slowing.

  It felt strange to be someone’s comfort. She’d spent a lifetime not letting anyone too close and she knew Cal had made an art out of it. She stroked his hair. But now they only had each other.

  “You can help him, right?” Mara skimmed a finger over his lips. “Make him better?”

  The woman’s competent hands didn’t slow from their steady movements over his skin. But she looked up, her deep brown eyes sad. She shook her head.

  Mara’s throat snapped shut. She felt like the room did one long, unsteady spin.

  “No.” The woman rinsed her cloth in the bowl. Cal’s blood swirled in the water. “He is dying.”

  Chapter Six

  Pain scorched his skin.

  Cal struggled through the heavy fog holding him down. No, it wasn’t fog, it was burning hot sand. He was lost in a desert where the blazing sun blistered his skin, melted his lungs and left his throat parched.

  A whisper of sound. He turned his head. A beautiful voice carried by the desert wind.

  Then it was gone. Leaving him alone.

  And then he was back in the lab.
/>
  Bright lights. Hot lights. Dark shapes moving in the whiteness. The constant beeping of machines and the sting of needles under his skin.

  Pain. The lightning bolt of whatever they injected him with and the sear of scalpels peeling back his skin. The throb of electricity drilling into his head. Changing him.

  No. No. He thrashed against his bindings. He knew the monster he’d become. The power that would grow, hard and fast, and leave a temptation too great to control.

  “Shh.”

  The voice was back. It smoothed over his nerves and cool hands brushed against his forehead. A damp cloth was a blessed relief against his burning skin.

  “Easy, Cal. I’m here.”

  He should know the owner of the voice but his brain wouldn’t put the pieces together. It didn’t matter. He knew her, deep inside where it mattered, and he believed she wouldn’t leave him alone in the burning darkness.

  Those gentle hands again. They stroked his cheek, his jaw, a thumb brushing over his lips.

  Her strokes touched something hidden within him. A part of him that had withered. A part of him long denied.

  He fought the fog. He wanted to see her. Wanted to tell her to keep touching him.

  “Easy.”

  There was pressure behind him, his head lifted. He settled back into a warm embrace.

  He forced out a word. “Thirsty.”

  A cup was at his lips and the water was heaven on his dry throat.

  “Not too much.” The cup withdrew.

  He relaxed against her and pried his eyelids open.

  Red, red hair—disheveled and falling free. It framed a pale face and the largest, deepest green eyes. “Mara.”

  “Hey.” She smoothed his hair back off his face. “How do you feel?”

  “Bad.” A raspy croak.

  Her chest hitched. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

  “I…I’ll be okay.”

  She gripped his fingers like she needed a lifeline. “I don’t think it’ll be okay this time.”

  He frowned, trying to make sense of it. “What happened?”

  “Do you remember the bomb, the explosion?”

  A supersonic jumble of images tumbled into his head. He tried to sit up. “Are you hurt?”

  She gave a hiccupping laugh and pushed him back down. “I’m fine. Not even singed. You played the hero and protected me.”

  “It’s what I do best.”

  She shook her head. “What else would the great Callahan do?” Her small smile melted away. “You’re hurt bad, Cal.”

  Using all his strength, he reached up and ran a finger along the groove between her brows. Mara Ross so concerned for him. He liked it. “Bay and Sean?”

  “We lost our earpieces.” She bit her lip. “I have no idea if they got away. If they’re safe.”

  Cal searched for her hand. “Bay’s tough and Sean’s a trained SEAL. They’ll lay low until we can meet up.”

  “We’re far from help. At a village deep in the jungle.” She looked around the room. “The people here are doing what they can. They’re very generous.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “It won’t be enough. You’ve got a lot of burns and…” She sucked in a long breath. “They’re deep.”

  He tried to look down at his body. The angle wasn’t great but he saw a glimpse of raw skin and the pain told him it wasn’t good.

  “If only I’d waited. Like you’d said—”

  “Mara.” He wrapped a skein of her hair around his hand and tugged her closer. “You’re you. I don’t think I’ll ever turn you into someone content to wait and plan.” She was so close he could see that gorgeous translucent skin, dewy with perspiration and smudged with dirt. “I don’t want to change you.”

  “Callahan—”

  “Cal.” He tugged her even closer, until their lips were an inch apart. “I want you to call me Cal.”

  “Cal,” she paused, “I’d do anything to save you…” her words drifted away and another tear cut down her cheek.

  “Anything?”

  She nodded.

  “I need you to trust me.”

  “You know I do.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. He didn’t have the strength to kiss her the way he wanted to…but it would have to do for now. Because he needed something from her and he didn’t have time to explain.

  He deepened the kiss, drawing the intense taste of her into his mouth. She returned every stroke of his tongue, each long draw, each exploration. She kissed just like Mara—bold and sensual.

  Cal lifted the arm that didn’t hurt and wrapped it around her neck. He pulled her closer, his hand sliding into her hair.

  He felt her try to pull back but he didn’t let her break the connection. He took everything she offered and what she didn’t. He let his power out, let it pour into her. Seeking. Searching for the bright heart of her.

  Her body jerked. He moved his lips over hers, trying to soothe while he took. He promised he’d make it up to her. Kiss her properly, all for her pleasure, as soon as he could.

  A bright hot mass of energy filled him, flaring out over his skin. He used his mind to direct it.

  Then he broke the kiss.

  She yanked her head back, her breathing shallow and rapid.

  All Cal’s strength was gone. He stared into her wide green eyes as his vision blurred. So beautiful. Then the dark hands of unconsciousness pulled him under.

  ***

  Mara scuttled backward, staring at Cal’s inert form. She tried to get her breathing under control.

  What the hell just happened?

  She was a little lightheaded. It had been a hell of a kiss, but it had been something else as well. Like he’d pulled on her very soul.

  She crept back beside him and pressed a palm to his forehead. He still felt hot but seemed to be resting a little more peacefully. Her gaze slid down his bare chest.

  Her heart stopped.

  Was she imagining it? She leaned over him, pressing a finger to his skin.

  The burns were healing. They looked less red and the skin was knitting. She ran a hand through her tangled hair. Surely the woman’s poultice hadn’t caused healing like this?

  Her gaze traced over Cal’s face. A sheen of sweat covered him. She rinsed out the cloth and gently pressed it to his face. God, he was hot. Really burning up. She carried on wiping him down, whispering soothing phrases, telling him things she’d never mentioned to another living soul. Her greatest dreams and darkest fears.

  She wanted this man to live. She wanted to see power and life radiating from him again. She’d never realized how much she drew on his strength. He was a solid foundation in a world she’d never trusted.

  The young woman came in again. She set down a plate of delicious-smelling rice and a sarong in many shades of gold. Mara wasn’t hungry, but she knew she needed the energy. She frowned at the sarong before glancing down at her trousers. The khaki fabric was blotched with soot and Cal’s blood.

  “Thank you.” She forced some rice down. “Ah, I don’t know your name?”

  “Lia.” The Indonesian woman crouched to check on Cal. When she noted the healing burns, her eyes widened. She glanced at Mara, then back at Cal but didn’t comment on it. “I will return later. Rest now.”

  After Lia left, Mara stripped off her trousers and cleaned up as best she could with a cloth and water. She wrapped the sarong around her waist.

  Night fell and as the dark shadows filled the small hut, she rose and found a small lantern. It cast a warm glow over the room. With a relieved sigh, she sat back beside Cal, smoothing a hand down his uninjured arm. To comfort him or herself, she wasn’t sure.

  A scape of sound behind her made her head snap up.

  The old woman from the deck shuffled in out of the shadows.

  Her skin made Mara think of smooth leather and her eyes were a deep, bottomless brown. She squatted beside them and pressed a withered palm against Cal’s forehead. She made a huffing sound and studied his wounds.


  Her gaze found Mara. “I know what you are.”

  Her English was close to perfect and had Mara blinking. “I—”

  “You’re special. He’s special.” Her hand patted Cal’s hair. “My people have told tales about the Kalamba. My grandmother’s grandmother had the gift of time.”

  Everything in Mara stilled.

  “There have only ever been a few, the death dealers, the time masters—” the woman’s brown eyes glowed in the light as her gaze bored into Mara “—the mind controllers. They have always been revered here. My ancestors built stone monuments to honor them. You can see one on the edge of the village.”

  “We’re just human beings.” Mara looked down at the still man beside her. “We hurt…we bleed.”

  The old woman made a hmmph sound. “This one is even more special. He has many gifts but uses them to help others.”

  Mara let her fingers rest on Cal’s wrist. His pulse felt strong and steady. “Yes, he does.”

  “He is healing.” The woman stood.

  “It looks that way,” Mara admitted. “But that isn’t possible. He has the power of the mind, not healing.”

  The woman shuffled toward the door. “Regardless, he will be awake in the morning.” An enigmatic look. “And hungry.”

  Sometime after the old woman left, Lia bustled in again. She checked Cal’s wounds, clucking over the regenerating skin. After spreading more poultice on his burns, she disappeared.

  Thunder rumbled outside and moments later, heavy rain poured down. Mara wandered to the door, listening to the steady drum. God, please let Cal be okay. She thought of Bay and Sean. Worry cramped her gut. And poor Cate. Guilt turned Mara’s chest to lead. She’d vowed to rescue Cate and the woman was still in Leven’s chains.

  Soon. As soon as Cal was well enough to transport, she’d find Bay and Sean and they would get Cate out.

  As though a switch had been flicked off, the rain stopped. She watched the quiet movements of the village at night, listened to the soft patter of rainwater dripping from the trees. Shadows moved between huts, the flames from a fire danced in the distance. She heard the quiet murmurs of the villagers in conversation.