“Anna. Wake the fuck up.” The voice came from far away. Something rocked and shook her. Something was hurting her. She pushed it away, fighting to slide into the blackness, away from the pain invading the edges of her consciousness.

“Anna! Jesus Christ!”

The voice wasn’t going to let her go back to sleep. It was strident. Annoyingly familiar, she thought in her red and black room of pain. A face flashed into her mind’s eye. Grey eyes, dark hair. Safety.

“God, you’re heavy.”

Garrick. The blackness started to dissipate.

She blinked, and there he was in front of her, shaking her as if his very life depended on it. He shifted and blurred as pain lanced through her injured shoulder.

Anna slapped at his hands. “Stop it. You’re making me sick.”

Relief flooded his features, and he stopped rattling her shoulders but didn’t let go. “Thank fuck. I thought...” He didn’t finish his sentence.

She raised her hand to her forehead. Pain drilled into the top of her head, the edges of her vision pulsing in time with the pounding agony in her skull. Her fingers came away wet, black in the washed-out light emanating from the walls.

She blinked rapidly, her palm on her chest.

“Why is my head bleeding?” Blake. Memories restarted, overwhelming her brain with barbed pincers and fathomless obsidian eyes. “Blake?”

Garrick didn’t answer. He was busy kneeling in front of her, pulling a kit of out a slim pack strapped to his thigh. He ripped open a packet and pulled out a thick pad of white gauze, which he pressed to her head. He took her left hand and tried to place it on the dressing. She yelped and jolted away from him.

“I’ve hurt my shoulder,” she gasped, bending forwards to protect herself from new explosions of misery. The world fuzzed over, fading to black.

“Anna?” His voice drifted in and out, as his face bent over her, creased with concern. He slid her sleeve up and the sting of a needle punctured the crook of her arm. Warmth blossomed in her bicep, expanding to fill her body, leaving no room for the pain. The grey edges retracted, and she sucked in a long shaky breath as his presence washed over her in a wave of safety.

Garrick snapped his fingers. “Stay with me.” He took her good hand and placed it against the sterile pad on her head. “Keep it there. Pressure will help slow the bleeding.”

Blake was lying a few feet away, cheek down on the floor of the chamber, his hybrid body in disjointed chaos. Thick viscous blood coated his torso. She looked away, forcing herself to focus on Garrick searching through the medi-pack. Triumphant, he produced a tight roll of bandage.

Relief flowed through her, and she didn’t fight it. I’m happy he’s here. The sensation was a delicious novelty.

“How did you find me?”

He stopped what he was doing, reached over, and put his hands on her wrist. “Your tracker bracelet?”

“The strap’s torn. It’s in my back pocket.”

He took her left hand in his, his calloused fingers enveloping her skin in warmth. He squeezed gently.

“You really know how to make a guy work for it.”

“You came for me even after I pushed you away.”

His fingers grazed the line of her cheek. “When’s it going to sink into that obtuse skull of yours? I’m not going anywhere.”

He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth against his, the taste of him filling her brain, detonating fireworks in her belly. He was so solid and real, his mouth dark and hot against hers, claiming her as his own.

She broke away from the kiss, her cheeks heating. Despite everything, he had come for her. The thought made her giddy, even if she was sat in the middle of a Chittrix hive.

He pulled her forehead to his own, his hand possessive against her throat. Anna touched the silver chain around his neck. The coding chain for the Sweeper.

“You have the coding chain?”

He winked, a quick smile illuminating his intelligent face. “There’s no time to explain. We need to hurry.” Breaking away from her, he unrolled the crepe bandage. He quickly wound it round her back and shoulder, securing her injured arm under her breasts.

“Hey, dumb-ass.” A woman’s voice hissed down the shaft above their heads.

“Violet.” Garrick raised his brows. “Love my sister.”

He ran his hands gently down Anna’s thighs. “Legs ok?”

“Yes. I think so.” He helped her stand. “I’m wobbly but functional.”

They moved under the shaft, where the end of a red rope dangled. Garrick tugged it twice and more tumbled down. He tied it to Anna’s waist and behind the backs of her thighs. He worked quickly, jerking the knots secure and snug against her body.

As he worked, a moan came from the far side of the room. They both froze momentarily, waiting for Blake to pull himself up from the floor. But there was nothing more. Anna hissed a breath through clenched teeth.

Garrick yanked on the rope above her head and commanded. “Now.”

The rope constricted around Anna’s hips and under her legs, creating a cradle to lift her up. Her injured arm remained safely secured to her chest.

“Hardy has your weight, but you’ll need to help him with your legs. Keep yourself off the wall as much as possible.” He took her chin gently in his fingers and turned her face to look at him.

“It’s too late to push me away now. You know that, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for her answer, instead giving the rope a sharp tug. Then she was above him, ascending into weak amber light, leaving Garrick alone with Blake’s broken body.

She used her feet as much as possible to keep herself off the walls but still bashed her shoulder several times, sending bone-searing ricochets throughout her upper body. Halfway up, another coil tumbled past her and quickly went taut with Garrick’s weight as he followed her. When she reached the top, hands appeared and pulled her over the edge.

In the half-light, Violet and Hardy hauled her carefully over, both wet and bedraggled. Two perfect strangers who had risked their lives for her.

Violet’s smile gleamed in the murk. “Let’s set the big bomb and get the hell out of here.”