The Order Box Set (The Order #1-3)

“OOOO—I’m so scared.”


Piers ignored the comment and exited the building. Christian was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He quirked a brow as he saw Piers. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Is it all sorted?”

“Hardly.” Piers pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. “Carl? He’ll be heading back to wherever he left the girl. Follow him—if she’s dead, make sure he disposes of the body where it won’t be found. If she’s alive, keep her that way and take her back to the Order.”

He slipped the phone into his pocket and frowned. He still couldn’t believe it. Andarta wanted him back. How did he feel about that? The truth was he really didn’t know. His head ached, and he rubbed the spot between his eyes.

“Problems?” Christian asked.

He shook his head. “No. Yes… To be honest, I have no idea.”

Christian grinned. “You sound like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, a drink sounds good. Or two.”



Roz fastened her seat belt and stared ahead, trying to get her thoughts settled and on the matter at hand.

She couldn’t get her mind off the conversation between Piers and Christian. Asmodai had always told her that the less she knew the better, but he must have been aware that she would discover things through the bug. Did he no longer care?

There would be time to worry about that later. Right now, she had to concentrate on Jessica if she was to be of any help to Ryan. Her powers never worked when she was distracted.

Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind. “So, tell me what you know,” she said to Ryan.

“We had a whole load of calls after we went public with that picture of yours. Some cranks, but a few were obviously genuine, and we narrowed the area down to a section of the Isle of Dogs—which fits in with your description.”

“The smell of the river,” she murmured.





“Yes. And about half an hour ago we got a call saying someone had seen this guy leaving a house in the same area. That’s where we’re heading now.” He glanced at her quickly. “The team will be there. I couldn’t keep this to myself.”

Roz scowled. She’d expected as much, but she didn’t like it. “Just keep me away from them.”

Ryan reached into his pocket and handed her something. A pin-on badge with “Visitor” in big letters. Roz fixed it to her jacket and stared out of the window some more. They were driving along the embankment now, the river gleaming in the lights. It was close to midnight and the roads were quiet—mainly red buses and the odd cab, but they made good time.

“Will we be able to go in first?”

“Yes, I told the team to wait outside.”

“Good.”

Finally, Ryan pulled into a wide residential road, well lit with streetlights at regular intervals. The houses were tall Victorian terraces with small gardens out front so the buildings were set back from the road. He parked at the edge of the street between two cars. Opposite was a dark van, which she presumed contained his team. He punched on his radio. “Faith?”

“Yeah?”

“Anything happening?”

“Nothing. The place has been in darkness since we got here. We talked to the neighbor and she reckons there’s been no coming or going since she saw our guy leave.”

“Good. You stay put until you hear from me.”

“Okay, boss.”

Ryan turned to Roz. In the dim light, she could see the excited gleam of his eyes. She hoped he wasn’t going to be disappointed.

Please let her be alive. Sending up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening, she followed Ryan out of the car, then stood for a moment on the pavement. Shutting her eyes, she pictured Jessica, and felt a faint echo resonate deep in her mind. Thank god. She was alive. But just.

Roz started walking and Ryan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I haven’t told you which house yet.”

She pointed to the one on the corner plot. “There.”

“Shit, that’s spooky.”

She ignored the comment and headed to the house at a fast walk. The wrought iron gate creaked as she pushed it open. A gravel path led up to the dark blue front door with overgrown gardens on either side. There were no lights on inside, and she hesitated at the door. Closing her eyes, she felt again for the fragile flutter of the girl’s mind. Jessica was holding on tenaciously, but her life force was faint and growing fainter.

The door didn’t budge when Roz turned the handle. “Can you kick it in?” she asked

“I shouldn’t.”

“She’s dying, Ryan.”

“Stand back.”