Bittersweet Darkness

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Authors: Nina Croft

Tags: #Romance, #Literature & Fiction, #Series, #Paranormal

BOOK: Bittersweet Darkness
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Bittersweet Darkness

A Novel of The Order

Nina Croft

Other books by Nina Croft

B
LOOD
H
UNTER
S
ERIES

B
REAK
O
UT
(
B
LOOD
H
UNTER,
B
OOK 1)

D
EADLY
P
URSUIT
(
B
LOOD
H
UNTER,
B
OOK 2)

D
EATH
D
EFYING
(
B
LOOD
H
UNTER,
B
OOK 3)

T
HE
O
RDER
S
ERIES

B
ITTERSWEET
B
LOOD
(
T
HE
O
RDER,
B
OOK 1)

B
ITTERSWEET
M
AGIC
(
T
HE
O
RDER,
B
OOK 2)

B
ITTERSWEET
D
ARKNESS
(
T
HE
O
RDER,
B
OOK 3)

O
PERATION
S
AVING
D
ANIEL

T
HE
D
ESCARTES
L
EGACY

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Nina Croft. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Edited by Liz Pelletier and Robin Haseltine

Cover design by Curtis Svehlak

Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-113-8

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition February 2014

To Rob, for all his endless encouragement and support.

Table of Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Twenty-five

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Prologue

Faith sprinted through the narrow side street, the stench of decay filling her nostrils. Something tripped her in the stygian darkness and she cursed loudly, righted herself, and raced on. As she emerged into the bright lights of the main street, she skidded to a halt. Ryan slammed into her back, nearly knocking her from her feet.

“Which way?” she snarled.

“How the hell do I know?” Ryan sniffed. “Christ, what’s in those Dumpsters?”

She eyed up the rusty containers lining the alley. “Decomposing bodies, I’m guessing. You want to check?”

“Hell, no.”

She scanned the street for any sign of movement. At two in the morning, in this part of London, the streets were pretty much empty except for the bad guys. When nothing moved, she turned to him. “Aren’t you going to miss all this?”

Ryan had been her partner in the department for two years now, and she’d come to rely on him. He’d literally taught her everything she knew about being a good detective and now he was leaving.

He stared around their less than salubrious surroundings and grinned. “Actually, yes.”

“Then why go?” She didn’t get it. She could have sworn that—like her—he lived for the job.

He ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. Tall, at least six inches taller than her, he was a good-looking guy. She’d met a few of his girlfriends over the years, but never anyone associated with the job. Ryan had principles, including not hitting on his coworkers. Still, she’d considered him a friend as well as colleague, but over the last month—since he’d handed in his notice—she’d sensed his withdrawal, as though he were distancing himself.

“Let’s just say I was made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

Ryan was going to work for a private-investigation firm, CR International, run by the enigmatic billionaire, Christian Roth. Her partner claimed he had signed a nondisclosure agreement and wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

“Can’t you stay until we solve this case?”

Ryan frowned. “Why does this one mean so much to you? It’s just another murder—they happen every day. We solve this case, and there’ll be a new one to work on tomorrow.”

In some ways, he was right. But there were murders and
murders
. If some scumbag drug dealer got whacked, she wasn’t going to lose sleep. But Julia Foster had been one of the good people, the people they were supposed to protect.

“Come on, Ryan,” she said. “She was fifteen years old and someone drained her blood and left her to die. And that fucker is still out there.”

For a second, she considered telling him the other reason why this murder had such significance to her, but even after all these years she couldn’t talk about that night. Though she might have forced herself to if she’d thought it would sway him, make him stay. But his mind was set, because she’d been chipping away at him for the past month and gotten precisely nowhere. She just wished he would share his reasons.

She opened her mouth to chip some more, because a good detective never gave up—Ryan had taught her that—when he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

As she peered into his face, he nodded toward the far side of the street. Something moved in the shadows of the tall building. They were chasing an informant who they’d been told might have information relating to their investigation. But for some reason—like the rest of her contacts lately—he really didn’t want to talk to her about this case. He’d scarpered as soon as he’d spotted them approaching in the bar.

“Okay, I’ve got him,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She took a deep breath and dashed across the street. The man glanced up, terror on his face as he saw her coming for him. He
really
didn’t want to talk to her.

Why? What was it about this case?

She was nearly across the road when a sharp pain stabbed her in the back of the skull. She stopped abruptly. For a second, she thought she’d been shot or bludgeoned. But there’d been no sound of gunfire and no one close enough to touch her. Then the pain came again, like molten metal poured into her skull, and she crashed to her knees.

Ryan called her name, but he sounded far away. She squinted, trying to focus, but everything was hazy. Darkness was closing in. Her brain filled with nothing but agony until her mind snapped and the blackness swept over her and sucked her under.

Chapter One

T
WO WEEKS LATER

“You do understand how serious this is, don’t you, Ms. Connolly?”

Faith was trying her best not to, but that probably wasn’t what the doctor wanted to hear.

“It’s Detective Connolly, actually. And does it make a difference?” she asked. “I mean whether I take it seriously or not. Will that improve my chances?”

He pursed his lips as though he wasn’t pleased with the question. “Probably not, though there is some evidence that excessive excitement and extreme emotions can exacerbate the condition.”

“Well, I promise not to get excited.” That shouldn’t be too hard. “How long before you get the results?”

“A couple of weeks, maybe less. I’ll hurry them through.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “You think you’ll have to operate?”

“At this point, I’m not sure we can operate. The test results will show us more.”

“And if you can’t?”

He shrugged. “Wait until we have the results. In the meantime, I’ll give you a prescription for some painkillers for the headaches, but if you get anything else—blurred vision, dizzy spells—I want you to come right back.”

She nodded. Right now, all she wanted was to escape the confines of the hospital.

As she came out of the main entrance and into the open air, she realized the doctor was right. She wasn’t taking this seriously. She was in denial. But a goddamn stroke? At thirty-two. Who had a stroke at thirty-two?

A brain aneurysm, they’d called it. A weakness in the blood vessels inside her skull. But worse, they believed that the minor attack she’d had was merely a precursor to something bigger. She had a time bomb in her brain, waiting to go off.

The tests she’d had today weren’t so much to see what was wrong, but to see what they could do about it. If anything.

She tried to make herself think about dying. But it didn’t seem real. All she could do was concentrate on living right now. Try and put it out of her mind and focus on solving her case.

Six weeks ago, the body of a young girl had been found abandoned on the embankment by the river. She’d been exsanguinated, drained of blood to the point of death. Puncture wounds in her throat, wrists, and thighs had made them speculate that it was some sort of cult death or vampire wannabes. Her team had been interviewing every weirdo in the city.

A little while later, a second girl, fifteen-year-old Jessica Thomas, had gone missing. She’d been found alive, but with the same wounds and totally traumatized.

Ryan had located Jessica, and Faith still had no clue how he’d done it. But there had been a woman with him that night Ryan hadn’t introduced to any of the team.

After her ordeal, Jessica had given an initial statement but now refused to say any more unless they took her to the mystery woman. Faith would love to, but unfortunately, she had no idea of her identity.

She’d seen nothing of Ryan since he’d left. He’d taken her to the hospital the night she’d blacked out and been there when she woke, but she hadn’t seen him in the two weeks since. It was as though he’d cut his old life away and that hurt.

And pissed her off.

She’d believed they were friends as well as partners. And she’d been toying with the idea of forcing the issue. Going to see him, though she wasn’t sure where. He’d moved out of his old apartment without leaving a forwarding address. That only left his new place of work, CR International.

“Detective Connolly?”

She glanced up and came to an abrupt halt. A man stood before her, tall and lean and dressed as a priest. The latter nipped at her already frayed temper. Brought up as a Catholic until the age of twelve, she hated priests.

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