Bittersweet Darkness (The Order #3)

The doctor and Adams were both backing away from the table. They’d reached the door when Tara broke free of her last restraint. She rolled onto the floor and leaped toward them, almost flying through the air. She slammed into the door as it shut behind them, then crashed to the floor. For a second, Faith thought she’d knocked herself out. But she was up on her feet. She turned to face the mirror and Faith drew in her breath. As she stalked toward them, her eyes glowed red, something stirring behind them. Had the drug broken her mind?

But there was definite intelligence there as she surveyed the two-way mirror. She glanced around, picked up the doctor’s trolley, and hurled it at the glass. It bounced off, leaving no damage, and she growled her frustration.

“Release the gas,” the colonel said into the intercom.

A white mist oozed from the corners of the room, curling up from the ground to coil around Tara’s figure. She peered down, and despair filled her eyes. She mouthed something; Faith was sure it was “Christian.” Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to her knees, and toppled to the floor.

“Interesting,” the colonel murmured as though this were some sterile scientific experiment, not a young woman’s life.

Faith loathed him in that moment.





Chapter Fourteen


“Will she be all right?” Faith asked, fighting to keep the disgust and hatred out of her voice.

“From the gas—she should be. It will knock her out for an hour, but she should have no aftereffects.”

Through the glass, Faith could see the room was already clearing, revealing Tara’s unconscious form curled in a fetal position in front of the mirror.

“From the drugs…” The colonel shrugged. “Who knows? That didn’t go as expected. I think we’ll have to add enhanced strength as one of the side effects.”

He turned from the mirror to face Faith. She quickly schooled her features to blankness.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t get to hear anything interesting,” he said. “And I’m guessing the good doctor will suggest leaving the next session until morning. He’s probably getting his nose fixed.” He sounded amused.

How could someone be so untouched by this? Is that what happened if you saw enough evil? You became immune?

Faith never, never wanted to feel like that.

The adrenaline drained from her system, leaving her shaky and sick. She had to get out of there.

“I’d like to come back for the next session,” she said, pretending to be unaffected.

“Good. I was worried you’d be too squeamish to accept what has to be done. But I think you’re going to be an excellent addition to the team.”

She kept her walk steady as she made her way back to the upper level. Only when she locked herself in the ladies’ room did she give in. There was nothing in her stomach, but she retched anyway, bile flooding her mouth.

Afterward, she stared at her reflection and realized she was crying. Tears dropped in a trickle down her cheek. That wouldn’t do. She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, then splashed cold water over her face. Sniffing one last time, she blew her nose and patted her cheeks dry with a paper towel.

Squeamish didn’t cover it.

Despair. That’s what she felt. A deep, bone-numbing despair as though her whole world was been ripped down around her. All her life, all she’d ever wanted was to work for the good guys, to make the world a better place.

This world wasn’t better.

The hopeless expression in Tara’s eyes haunted her. And a new emotion rose up to drown out the despair.

Rage.

No one had the right to do that to anyone. To treat any human that way.

She had to do what she could to save Tara. It would be the end of her career, but her future no longer mattered. The doctor had told her she needed to inform her employers. She was a risk. But this might also mean she ended up in prison. Did she want to spend her last weeks—or months or however long she had left—in a cell?

A cell like Tara’s.

If she did nothing, she didn’t think she could live with herself. It would be irrelevant where she was.

But the thing that was really tearing her apart was Ash.

He would hate her. If she’d told them straightaway that she’d recognized Adams, maybe they could have found Tara before they’d harmed her. Christian Roth had a lot of contacts. He might have at least been able to kick up enough fuss to ensure that Tara wasn’t tortured.

But she hadn’t told them, because she believed the system.

She’d been a naive idiot.

Ryan once told her that there were no such things as bad guys and good guys, only shades of in-between. She hadn’t believed him then. And she still didn’t. Not really. She still believed there was good and bad, she was just no longer sure of who was what, and the uncertainty left her floundering.

Ash would hate her for this. But again, did it really matter? In some ways, it would be better that way. He was starting to care for her, the fact that he’d come to her last night when he was in need of respite from his worries, told her that.

She didn’t know how long she had left, but she certainly wasn’t in a position to offer any man “forever.” Better their growing relationship get cut off now, before Ash got in any deeper and lost her anyway. And at least he wouldn’t have long to hate her.