Decoding Darkness Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Decoding Darkness

  Dark Codes Book Three

  Marissa Farrar

  Copyright © 2017 Marissa Farrar

  Warwick House Press

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  Chapter One

  Once more, I was under restraint in a vehicle, being taken to an unknown location.

  Special Agent Lyle Hollan sat beside me, his gun held in his lap like an unspoken threat. In the front of the car, a second man called Stewart drove. He was the asshole who’d made a good show of copping a feel while he’d been giving me a pat-down. I intended to make sure he understood the repercussions of touching me without permission. A third man with red hair sat in the passenger seat, but I neither knew his name nor cared what it was.

  An identical car followed close behind, this one containing two other men who’d helped to grab me in return for the freedom of my aunt.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked Hollan.

  He looked at me from the side of his eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “How long is it going to take to get there?”

  “Stop talking. I’m the one who should be asking the questions, not you.” He jabbed the gun into my side. “Tell me what you’re all doing way out here.”

  “We came to find my aunt.”

  “Yeah, I figured that much. But you were out here before then, weren’t you? She wouldn’t tell me where she’d come from, only that she was on foot.”

  A spark of hope ignited inside me. So, Aunt Sarah hadn’t revealed the location of the base, as I’d feared she would. I wondered what had stopped her from doing so.

  I shot him a glare. “We were driving, that’s all.”

  “And your aunt happened to just hop out of the car and wander off?”

  “She sneaked away while we were sleeping.”

  His eyes narrowed at me, and I forced myself to sullenly hold his gaze. He knew there was more to it, but there was no way in hell he was getting that information out of me.

  Hollan sniffed and pulled a face, as though I was something gross he’d found on the bottom of his shoe, but he lowered the gun and sat back in his seat. I figured he thought he had plenty of time to run me through these questions, and that he had more persuasive ways of making me talk.

  The cold metal of the handcuffs around my wrists dug into my skin. I tried to lean forward to prevent my bodyweight pressing against the back of the seat, causing the cuffs to feel even tighter, pressing into the small of my back. My shoulders ached from the angle they’d been yanked into, and no matter how much I tried to roll them to loosen up the joints, nothing made any difference to my discomfort.

  Anger boiled and steamed inside me, puffing me up like a domestic cat—so I felt bigger than I actually was. Hollan might think he had won this by first taking my aunt hostage, and then exchanging her for me, but I was the one who was having the final laugh. Unbeknown to him, I had placed a tiny, skin-colored tracker behind my ear, hidden in my hairline. While he thought we were making a getaway, I knew this was all just a ploy to get him to lead us to where he was keeping the memory stick my father, Michael Sullivan, had died to protect.

  My thoughts went to the men I hoped were following—Isaac, Kingsley, Clay, Alex, and Lorcan. What were they thinking of me now? Were they angry about what I’d done? I’d not discussed my plans with them beforehand for two reasons—mainly because it hadn’t occurred to me until we’d been faced with him standing in the middle of the road, with his arm around Aunt Sarah’s throat and a gun jammed to her head, but also because I knew they’d never have agreed to it.

  Yeah, they’d be mad at me right now.

  They’d be spitting blood and pissing fury.

  Everything the guys had done since they’d come into my life had always been about protecting me. There was no way in hell they’d have supported me handing myself over to Hollan. Though they’d never have agreed to my plan, the fact they hadn’t fought for me spoke volumes. I was sure some harsh words had been exchanged inside the van—that blond, rebellious Clay and serious, intense Lorcan, in particular, would have insisted on trying to take down Hollan on the road and set me free—but the leader of the group, Isaac, would have talked them down. And they listened to Isaac. He might not have agreed with my plan if I’d suggested it beforehand, but once it was in play, he knew it was the right thing to do.

  Alex and Kingsley were the more nurturing of the group, and I imagined Alex making sure my aunt was all right, physically, while Kingsley, with his deep, soothing voice would be talking her down, and reassuring her I would be all right.

  Now I just had to sit in this car, beside the man I hated most in the world, and let him take me right to the memory stick.

  As the vehicle chewed up the miles, I tried not to think about the distance increasing between me and the guys, though I knew it had to be. Hollan had warned them that he would shoot me if he saw them trying to follow. They also wouldn’t come after me with my aunt still in the van. They would need to take her somewhere safe—back to the base, I assumed. I also hadn’t considered that they might not have the equipment with them to follow the tracker. Yes, Isaac always had his small but powerful laptop with him, but there was a chance the tracker needed to be followed using equipment from the base, or even that it needed to be switched on. Hell, I didn’t know much about these things. I’d just listened to what their boss, Devlin, had told them about how discreet and powerful the tracker was, and I’d run with that.

  A fresh flurry of nerves fluttered inside me. What if something had to be done to the tracker before it was placed onto someone in order for it to work? I hadn’t considered that possibility. But no, I was sure Isaac would have said something when he’d had the opportunity. He’d watched me push the tracker into my skin and drop the empty box back into the van. But then I remembered him saying, “Darcy, no,” as I’d left the van. Had he been trying to tell me my plan wouldn’t work? Had I seriously messed up and handed myself straight into the hands of my enemy?

  No, I couldn’t let myself think like that. Devlin hadn’t said anything abo
ut needing to do something to the tracker to get it to work when he’d been explaining it to Isaac and the others. This was anxiety and fear trying to creep into my brain. I needed to stay positive and strong. Hollan was going to try to get the code to unlock the memory stick from me, and I knew he was willing to use whatever tactics he needed. I had to stay positive that the guys knew my exact location and were coming to get me.

  Before they reached me, however, I needed to make sure Hollan had revealed the location of the memory stick.

  Hollan leaned forward, and I jumped at his sudden movement. He banged the back of the driver’s headrest with his palm. “Pull over when you can. We’re going to need to put the girl in the back. Can’t have her seeing where we’re going—not that I’m expecting her to ever be able to tell anyone.”

  His words sent ice particles coursing through my veins. He was talking about me not being able to tell anyone because his plan was to kill me. Of course, it was. He’d never allow me to walk free if he could help it. I knew far too much.

  But yet, the worry must still be in the back of his mind that I would escape, or he wouldn’t need to take such precautions.

  The driver pulled over on the side of the road. This area was relatively free of traffic. Other than the car following us, which also belonged to Hollan, I hadn’t seen another vehicle in some time. Wherever Hollan was keeping the memory stick, it was certainly a long way from Langley—not that I actually expected him to be keeping it there. Hollan and a handful of other corrupt agents were behind this, but there were plenty of other decent agents as well, like my dad. Hollan wouldn’t have wanted to risk the chance of one of the good guys getting his hands on the memory stick again, so he moved it far away from where there was the possibility of that happening.

  The car stopped, and the one following pulled in behind us.

  Both men climbed out, and I remained seated, my arms still handcuffed behind my back. My heart thrummed in my chest, so fast it was hard to discern one beat from the next, and my breathing was shallow and quick. I forced myself to slow down, remembering Kingsley’s deep and calm voice in my head—breathe slowly in through your nose and out through your mouth. My fingers felt cold and numb. The circles of the handcuffs were too tight around my wrists, but I knew complaining wasn’t going to do any good. Chances were having too tight handcuffs was going to be the least of my problems.

  The car door beside me opened with a clunk, and Stewart grabbed me, roughly pulling me out on the road. I caught the top of my head on the metal roof of the car, and I winced, my eyes filling with tears of pain. If either of the men noticed, they didn’t care.

  “Get her into the trunk,” Hollan commanded. “She’ll be less of an irritation in there, anyway. She’s just like her father—asks too many damned questions.”

  Fresh anger rose inside me at the mention of my father. This was the man responsible for snatching my dad so brutally from my life. I would be a different person now if I hadn’t gone through the trauma of having my father die in my arms when I was only fourteen. I could be one of those well balanced women who had a loving boyfriend and shared an apartment with her best friend. Maybe I’d even have a goddamned cat. Instead, I was making out with five guys at the same time, and spending half my life being kidnapped.

  The trunk popped open, and I stared down into the empty space. I supposed I should be thankful I was getting it all to myself. It would have been just my luck if I’d had to share the trunk with a body or two Hollan had collected.

  Stewart shoved me forward. “Get in there.”

  “It’s not easy to climb into something when you don’t have your hands free,” I snapped.

  “Fine.” His tone was snide. “Let’s give you a little help.”

  His hands left my arms and reached down to grab my hips. With a grunt, he lifted me and threw me over the edge. I managed to tuck myself in, but my body still slammed down on the hard surface, and I knocked the side of my head again. Panic that the movement might have dislodged the chip filled me. I wished I could lift my hand to feel that it was still in place, but of course, that was impossible. I told myself that was a good thing. I might check too often, and it would get noticed and make Hollan suspicious.

  It would still be there. The tracker was the best ever made, Devlin had said. It wasn’t going to fall out because of a little movement. They would have planned for that kind of thing.

  I curled up on my side, my hands still wrenched behind my back, my cheek pressing against the cool floor of the trunk. Above me, Stewart and Hollan leaned over the gap, eclipsing the blue sky and the swaying branches of the trees above. I didn’t want their faces to be the last thing I saw before the lid slammed down and I was shut in the dark, but I didn’t want to squeeze my eyes shut either and put myself into premature darkness. I had no idea how long I would be in here, and I wanted to savor my final moments of light and fresh air.

  “Make sure you behave yourself, Darcy,” Hollan said. “If we pull over for any reason, and you start hollering your mouth off, I will shoot you through the back of the seat to shut you up. You understand? I won’t even bother opening the trunk.”

  We both knew his threat was empty. He wouldn’t kill me. Not until he’d gotten the code out of me. But then I wouldn’t be making any noise if we were pulled over either. I didn’t want to be rescued—at least not until Hollan had led me to the location of the memory stick.

  I scowled up at him, but didn’t bother to reply. Nothing I said would make any difference.

  A slow smile spread across Hollan’s face.

  It was the last thing I saw as the trunk lid slammed down heavily above me, shutting me into darkness.

  Chapter Two

  I flinched as car doors slammed around me. I guessed Hollan had taken shotgun rather than sit in the back. He didn’t need to since he’d dumped me in the trunk. I expected he’d have made the red-haired guy who’d been in the passenger seat take the rear, and I imagined the guy sitting with the barrel of his gun pressed against the backrest, ready to shoot me through it if I so much as made a sound.

  The car engine roared to life, and then we were moving again. I bumped and jostled around in the back as we left the verge where we’d pulled over and got back on the road. I hated not having my hands free to be able to protect myself, to prevent banging my head again. A headache had started to form, a low throb that sank down through my brain and gathered behind my eyeballs. I suspected the headache had as much to do with stress as it did hitting my head.

  How long would I be in here?

  We’d already traveled for an hour or so with me sitting in the back seat with Hollan. Would we have about the same to go again? The thought of lying in this trunk for another hour, or possibly even longer, filled me with panic and dread, but there was nothing I could do about it. The smell of engine oil made me nauseated, and my mouth was so dry, my lips stuck to my teeth, and my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. I’d barely managed to do so much as grab a drink of water that morning before realizing my aunt was missing, and all the adrenaline coursing through my body had sapped me of moisture.

  Now no one could see me, I gave into the tears that had been threatening ever since I’d realized Aunt Sarah had gone. I cried silently, the salt tracking down my cheeks and soaking into the rough material of the floor of the trunk. I didn’t want Hollan to know he had gotten to me, though I doubted he’d have heard me over the sound of the engine, but still I didn’t give voice to my sobs.

  My thoughts went to the guys. I needed to focus on them. They were my happy place. I thought of Isaac, and how surprised he’d been when I’d leaned in and kissed him. Had he wanted more of that? I’d always assumed from the way he acted with me—so cold and hard most of the time—that he wasn’t interested in affection. But when I’d kissed him, he’d softened, if only for a fraction of a second, which was a miracle, considering the situation. What would happen if I got him alone and kissed him like that? Would he finally open up to me? Would I final
ly get to see Isaac’s softer side? I hoped I’d live long enough to get the chance.

  I pictured Lorcan, too, praying he was still coping with his injury. I wished I’d gone with my instinct to lay my head on his chest back in the medical bay, to have him put his arm around me while I listened to his heartbeat. Lorcan was another one who tried to come across as so tough, while I was sure he was soft as butter beneath all those tattoos.

  I remembered how gorgeous Alex had looked in his white doctor’s coat with his stethoscope draped around his throat, and of course, I couldn’t help but think of the nights I’d spent with both Kingsley and Clay. Heat condensed between my thighs at the memory, and I pressed my legs together, feeling my inner muscles pulse in response. I hoped we’d all get a repeat performance soon, but right now I needed to be thinking about more important things than sex. Actually, screw it. I was handcuffed in the trunk of a car. I could think about sex if that was what got me through it.

  And it did.

  The car pulled to a halt, and the engine fell silent around me. I held my breath in anticipation, my ears straining for voices. Had we stopped because someone had pulled us over, and this was the point where I was supposed to keep quiet? Or had we stopped because we’d reached our location?

  The crunch of footsteps rounded the side of the car. Every muscle in my body tensed, though I could barely feel my hands and fingers now. The lid opened, and I shied away from the bright light like a vampire, squinting, and trying to nestle deeper into the crevasse of the trunk.

  The shapes above me were only black silhouettes while my eyes got used to the light. What time of day was it? It must be the afternoon by now, though I’d started to lose track.

  The shapes began to distinguish into the growingly familiar faces of Hollan and Stewart, and the other man helping them.

  “We’re here,” Hollan said. “Time to get up.” He said it as though I’d been taking a nap, rather than having been locked in a trunk. “Lend a hand, Bryson.” He jerked his head toward the third man. So it was Bryson. That was his name.