“You’ll be restricted to the Order’s main facility for a while. You understand how the mind works, Dex. Humans can be conditioned if exposed to certain environments long enough. With time, you’ll come around to our way of thinking.”
“You mean like Stockholm Syndrome?”
Isaac’s grin sent icy shivers up Dex’s spine. “See, you’re getting it already.”
“You might as well kill me,” Dex replied through his teeth. He’d rather die than end up Isaac’s personal puppet.
With a resigned sigh, Isaac stood to look down at Dex. “You remind me so much of Gabe. He was so spirited. Stubborn as hell too.” Isaac’s fingers touched Dex’s cheek, and Dex stiffened, his stomach reeling, and his skin crawling. “He was special, like you.” Fingers trailed down Dex’s jaw and over his lips. “Beautiful.”
Dex’s eyes widened, and for the first time, he felt true fear. “Isaac….” Dex’s voice broke, and he closed his eyes for a moment. “Please.”
“I’m sorry, Dex.” Isaac reached down and unzipped Dex’s pocket containing the tablet. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” He removed the case and moved onto his other pocket to remove the drive. “One of my guys has been working on getting me network access and should come through any moment now. A slight setback, but that’s okay. I prepared for it.” He shook his head sadly. “I knew you would refuse. I’d hoped you wouldn’t, but I knew you would.” Isaac walked off, and Dex fought as hard as he could against the straps, letting out a frustrated cry when nothing happened. Oh God, what was Isaac doing? Dex could hear the man tinkering behind him.
“What are you going to do?”
“What I set out to do. Make your lover suffer and destroy the THIRDS. And you’re going to help me do it.”
“I’ll never help you,” Dex spat out.
Isaac approached the chair, a syringe containing a tiny amount of clear liquid in his hand. “Oh, but you will, Dex. You just won’t know it.”
The needle plunged into Dex’s neck, and he arched his back, letting out a violent cry, both in anguish and from the physical pain. He didn’t know what Isaac was pumping him full of, but he was scared, scared of what he might do, of hurting Sloane. As his vision blurred and his body seized, the air rushed out of his lungs as his muscles went taut. The last thing he felt was a tear roll down his cheek. Then he felt nothing at all.
Chapter 13
“SLOANE, WE’VE got a problem.”
Sloane tapped his earpiece, hearing a surge of gunfire and shouting in the background. “Cael? What’s going on?”
“We’ve got company. As soon as our teams went in, Isaac’s followers started jumping ship, but when they fled the building, someone started shooting at them. It’s that Therian group from the news. I don’t know how they knew we were here, but they knew. It’s a mess. Lieutenant Sparks is sending backup.”
“Shit.” Just what they needed. “Okay, keep me posted. It’s quiet up here, but I doubt it’ll stay that way.”
“Copy that. And Sloane?”
“Yeah?”
“Get my brother out of there.”
“Affirmative.” Sloane turned to his team. “We’re goin
g to have to split up. We’ve got unwanted visitors downstairs making a bigger mess of things. If anyone finds Dex, Shultzon, or Isaac, you call for backup immediately. I want you checking in every ten minutes. Go.” The team broke off, each heading in a different direction.
Sloane wasn’t familiar with this part of the facility. He’d spent years here, undergoing all kinds of tests and treatments, a good deal of which he thankfully couldn’t remember. He and Ash had never been permitted to leave their floor. In between their sessions with doctors, psychologists, and scientists, they’d spent most of their time in the room they shared or in the classrooms. He turned a corner, walking cautiously through a set of double doors with high windows and froze. It was a long white corridor, the lights almost too bright, and at the end, a set of white double doors, exactly like in his nightmare.
For the briefest moment, he thought he might be at home, or in Dex’s bed, having a bad dream, but he wasn’t. At least this time he had his weapon. He edged toward the doors when he heard a familiar voice.
“Sloane, help me please.”
This time it wasn’t Gabe, it was Dex.
Rifle in hand, Sloane hurried toward the doors, unsure of what he was going to find on the other side. An image of Dex lying in a pool of blood flashed through his mind, and he quickly pushed it away. This was not a dream. Dex needed him. Sloane ducked to one side of the large doors and carefully peered in through the glass, hearing a voice he knew well, one he wanted to shut up for good.
“Come in, Sloane. Let’s chat.”
Isaac Pearce.
Sloane tapped his earpiece, speaking quietly. “Guys, I found Isaac, and he’s got Dex. He says he wants to talk. I’m on the eighth floor, Wing C. Calvin, you know what to do.” Taking a deep breath, he pushed open one of the doors and walked in, his teeth gritted. The expansive gray room looked as it did in his nightmare—empty, except for the man who’d killed his lover, shed innocent blood, caused chaos, and now kidnapped Dex, standing in the center in a bulletproof vest, a side arm strapped to his leg, and a grin that Sloane wanted to punch off his face.