Hacking Darkness

by Marissa Farrar

“I just did,” he pointed out.

  I reached out and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, quit it.”

  He chuckled. “Do you want to continue the tour, then?”

  “Yes! You distracted me.”

  “So I did.”

  Someone cleared their throat behind us, that unmistakable sound of a person trying to get noticed, and Clay and I leapt apart as though we were both on fire.

  Turning in the direction of the sound, I saw Alex standing at the top of the stairs.

  “Hey,” I flustered. “We were just discussing sleeping arrangements.”

  I realized what I’d said and had to stop myself smacking my palm against my forehead. What the hell had I said that for?

  “You can have my room,” said Alex. “I’m going to assume you don’t want to go back down in the cellar.”

  I shook my head. “No chance.”

  “You can take my bed, then.” He looked to Clay. “Mind if I borrow Darcy?”

  “Be my guest,” said Clay.

  Clay smirked at me, and I narrowed my eyes in return, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t know how much Alex had seen, but for some reason, I cared what Alex thought of me. My lips felt swollen and tingled from all the kissing, and I felt sure it was obvious.

  Alex took me by the elbow and led me down the hallway to the end bedroom.

  “This one is mine,” he told me, pushing open the door. “Isaac has the one at the other end of the house, and the other guys have the rooms in between.”

  The room was beautiful. A king-sized bed with white cotton sheets. Plush carpets beneath my bare feet. I rushed over to the window on the far side, gazing out across miles of uninterrupted countryside. “The view is incredible.”

  It had felt like a long time since I’d had space around me, and I wished I could throw myself out of the window and run through the fields with my arms spread wide and my face turned up to the sun. But even though I’d been let out of the cellar, I was still a prisoner here. The men wouldn’t allow me to leave. They wouldn’t even allow me to make a phone call, though I was determined to contact Aunt Sarah just as soon as I could. The thought of Hollan being anywhere near her, while she remained in the dark, felt like a bug crawling under my skin.

  I looked around to find Alex leaning against the frame of the open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, one foot folded over the other. The side of his mouth was turned up as he watched me.

  “This is amazing,” I said. “I can’t ask you to give up this and sleep down in the cellar.”

  “Sure you can. We made you sleep down there. Think of this as me getting my comeuppance.”

  “Together with that kick in the face I gave you,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, that as well.” He unconsciously rubbed at the bridge of his nose and then lifted his eyes back to mine, blue and piercing, but putting on a mock puppy-dog look. He really was the epitome of devilishly handsome, with his smart shirt rolled up at the sleeves and his blond hair swept back from his face. Where Alex was also blond, Clay was a dirty blond, with the scruffy beard and the stormy grey eyes. Alex was a far more presentable kind of guy. The kind of guy you’d happily take home to your parents, despite the whole kidnapping and shooting thing.

  And I was going to be sleeping in his bed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alex left me to get settled, but it felt weird being in the room on my own, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. There was an adjoining bathroom, and I was relieved to see a bookcase filled with recent releases, which, in normal circumstances, I would have devoured, but I didn’t like just hanging around. Aunt Sarah preyed on my mind, and I kept going over all the time Hollan had been to the house and acted like he was my father’s friend. I couldn’t let it drop, and my anger at the whole situation built up in my chest like an unexploded hydrogen bomb. I felt like we should be doing something, and sitting around in some huge house in the middle of nowhere definitely didn’t feel like we were doing anything.

  I got to my feet, intending to find Isaac and ask him what he had planned next. Despite having seen Hollan during my hypnosis, we still hadn’t extricated the code from my head, and I wanted to know what the plan was afterward. The guys might want the code, but I wanted Hollan dead.

  Leaving the room, I headed down the stairs, wondering which of the men I’d bump into first. Would it be weird when I saw Clay again? I didn’t want him thinking we were some kind of couple. It had been another moment of madness—a thoroughly enjoyable moment of madness—but I couldn’t go around kissing all the guys. What would they think of me?

  The scent of food cooking, however, managed to distract me. I hadn’t eaten much over the last few days, and my stomach growled.

  I walked into the kitchen to find the guys cooking. No, not all of them. Isaac was missing. Doing something important in the office, I guessed.

  “There she is.” Kingsley was sitting at the kitchen table and spotted me first. Lorcan sat opposite him, looking at something on his cell phone, and I had to fight the urge to snatch it out of his hand. Alex stood at the counter, chopping salad on a board. It was a strangely domesticated setting, and it dawned on me how natural all these men appeared, as though they’d lived together for years and all knew their role, rather than a group who’d been brought together for other reasons.

  Clay was standing over the stove, stirring something. It was funny to see this tough guy tending a pot of sauce as though it was a newborn baby. He glanced over his shoulder at me then jerked his head toward the stove. “You wanna taste?”

  I stepped toward him. “What is it?”

  “The best thing you’ll ever put in your mouth, darlin’.”

  Was that supposed to be his way of flirting with me? I had to suppress a smile. “Is that right?”

  As much as I hated to admit it, I kind of liked Clay.

  Reaching his side, I came to a halt. The scents of coconut and lime made my mouth water, and I leaned in to get a better look. “Curry?”

  “Green Thai curry. You like it hot?”

  I laughed. “As long as I don’t regret it the next day.”

  He dipped the wooden spoon back into the pan and pulled out some sauce, blew on it, then offered me a taste. I opened my mouth, leaning forward, and tentatively poking out my tongue. The sauce was delicious—lemon grass, lime, coconut, and with just the right amount of heat.

  “That’s amazing.”

  He grinned. “I aim to please.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nah. Take a seat and it’ll be ready in five.”

  Sliding onto one of the chairs around the kitchen table, I suddenly felt shy. Lorcan was still engrossed in whatever he was doing, and so it was just me and Kingsley.

  “Where’s Isaac?” I asked, trying to make conversation. It felt weird hanging out with them when they were technically still my kidnappers.

  “Making some calls. We’re trying to keep track of Hollan, but it seems he’s gone off grid.”

  “Dammit.” I chewed at my lower lip. “Is there anything that can be done to warn my aunt? She’s at the house and on her own. I’d hate for him to try something.”

  Kingsley nodded. “I’ll see what we can do.”

  “Maybe we could bring her here?” I said, my tone rising with hope.

  He shook his head. “Not a good idea, Darcy. The less she knows the better.”

  My lips twisted. Clay had said the same sort of thing.

  Thinking of Clay conjured him, and he set down huge bowls of green Thai curry and steaming sticky rice in front of us.

  Isaac appeared, but instead of sitting with us, he dished up his food and took it back to the office with him. He barely glanced at me, and I guessed he still wasn’t happy about being outvoted about me being allowed out of the cellar.

  There were also vegetable spring rolls and dumplings, served with a little bowl of dipping sauce. Alex added the dish of salad, and we were each given bowls and a spoon.


  I looked down at the spoon. “No knife and fork?”

  “You can always use chopsticks,” Alex suggested.

  “For curry?”

  He laughed. “You might want to use a spoon for the curry, but you can eat the spring rolls with the chopsticks.”

  Little paper packets of wooden sticks had been provided with the meal. I slipped mine out of the paper, and snapped them down the center to create two separate sticks. At that point, I was stuck.

  “I don’t know how to use chopsticks,” I admitted, feeling uncultured and inadequate. The rest of the guys had already started using theirs, digging into the delicious meal provided.

  “I’ll show you.” Alex reached across the table, and took hold of my right hand. He paused. “You are right handed, aren’t you?” I nodded. “Okay,” he continued. “You need to hold the top chopstick as though you’re holding a pencil. Then put the second chopstick against your ring finger, and hold it with your thumb.”

  He positioned the chopsticks the way I was supposed to hold them, then looked into my face, his blue eyes bright. “Got it?”

  I gave an experimental pinching movement with my hand, and the sticks moved accordingly. “Yeah, I think so,” I said, nodding.

  Leaning across the table, I used the chopsticks to pick up a spring roll, and dropped it immediately. I had to resist the urge to stab the crispy little cylinder with the stick instead. I was hungry, and I wanted to eat. Casting my gaze around the table, I saw all the guys managing to eat perfectly well with the chopsticks. Damn.

  Trying again, I managed to pick up a dumpling.

  “Look, I’ve got it!” I cried in delight, before moving it toward my mouth. I snapped my teeth toward the soft parcel just before it was about to fall, half the dumpling smacking, hot and wet, against my chin. Abandoning the sticks, I used my fingers to prevent the dumpling falling the rest of the way and shoved the remainder into my mouth. I looked up to see Clay watching, a smirk on his face.

  “You have such lady-like table manners,” he said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

  I managed to finish my mouthful then stuck my tongue out at him.

  Too hungry to mess around with chopsticks any longer, I gave them up in favor of the spoon and dug into the curry. It was delicious—the chicken tender, the rice salty. Silence fell around the table as everyone ate—well as silent as it could be with a number of people eating at the same time.

  I scraped the bowl clean with the spoon then sat back with a contented sigh, my hands folded across my full stomach.

  “That was amazing. Thank you, Clay.”

  Clay nodded. “Alex helped, too.”

  “Well, thank you both.” I got to my feet, reaching to collect dishes from the others so I could do my part and help clear up, but my hand clashed with someone else. I looked up to find Lorcan and I had both reached for the same dish. We locked eyes, and he gave me a fraction of a nod of acknowledgement. Sparks jumped between us. He was moody and sullen, but the dark hair and tattoos made him sexy as hell.

  “Sit down,” he told me. “I’ve got this.”

  “I want to help,” I protested.

  His lips tightened. “It’s my job. House rules.”

  Not wanting to step on anyone else’s territory, I lowered my backside back down.

  Kingsley twisted in his seat to face me. “I know you’re probably not feeling like it right now, but we need to get back in your head. It’s good you remembered seeing Hollan, but we still need that code.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not backing out.”

  I debated telling him about my synesthesia, about how I’d be able to see the numbers as soon as I remembered them, would visualize them lit up in front of my eyes like landing lights for an airplane at night, but I held back. It wouldn’t make any difference to them how I remembered or saw them. All they wanted was the code, and then they would find Hollan. They would get the flash drive, but I wanted my father’s murderer dead, and I wanted to be the one to do it. The guys would never let me tag along, though, I was sure. My only currency was that damned code, and if they got it from me, I’d be left with nothing.

  I had to fight with what I had. I couldn’t just roll over and let them tell me what was going to happen. I had played a bigger part in this than any of them, and my father had entrusted me with that code with his dying breath.

  But had he told me because he wanted me to pass it on to people I could trust, or was it because he wanted me to know what was on that drive?

  Isaac returned and slid his used dish into the kitchen sink. He finally turned his attention to me, doing that little head tilt I’d come to recognize in him. “Feeling better now you’re out of the cellar?”

  I nodded. “Much.” I resisted adding, ‘no thanks to you.’

  Kingsley spoke. “I was just telling Darcy that we still have a job to get on with.”

  “And I agreed,” I said. “I want to see this done as much as you do.”

  Isaac jerked his head toward the door he’d just walked through. “Okay, let’s go through to the living room. We’ll all be more comfortable in there.”

  Lorcan shoved the final dishes into the dishwasher and wiped his hands on the seats of his jeans. The others got up from the table. Isaac led the way, and we all filed toward the front of the house and the living room I hadn’t yet been into properly.

  The room was decorated like a stage home instead of a house five men lived in. The couches were designed for how they looked instead of comfort, overstuffed with high backs and a slippery satin material. A thick cream rug covered most of the wooden floor, with a dark wood coffee table positioned in the center.

  I didn’t want to perch on the end of the couch, so I gestured at the coffee table instead. “Think we can move that?”

  Alex and Lorcan exchanged a glance then each grabbed an end and hauled it over toward the wall. I sank down onto the rug where the table had been and sat cross-legged. That was better. I could relax like this.

  Taking my cue, Kingsley assumed position by sitting opposite me on the floor. Isaac sat on a single chair to the left of Kingsley, and Alex and Lorcan took the uncomfortable looking couch. Clay hung out by the door. He always had a way of acting like he was never truly committing to staying in one spot, like he was always preparing himself for an exit route.

  “You remember how it goes?” Kingsley rested his calm gaze on me.

  I nodded, but I looked to the others, settling on Isaac. “Before we get started, I’ve got some questions.”

  Isaac’s lips twisted, and a muscle beside his left eye twitched. “What kind of questions?”

  “Who are you guys? You’re not government, are you?”

  I’d spent enough time with government men during my life to know what they talked and acted like, and it definitely wasn’t like these guys.

  Isaac shook his head. “No, we’re not government. I guess you’d say we’re an independent group.”

  “Just you five?”

  “No, there are lots more, but we’re the team put together for this.”

  “For this? Do you mean grabbing me, or retrieving the drive?”

  “Both.”

  On a roll, I continued with the questions. “Who put you together?”

  “Think of them like an independent watchdog. There’s nothing stopping a government or men in power from becoming corrupt. Hell, there’s nothing stopping an entire government from becoming corrupt—we’ve seen it happen time and time again in other countries. We’re here to put an end to things before they can get started.”

  I frowned, trying to put all the pieces of what he was telling me together in my mind. “So, what, were you like ... headhunted? Did you guys train in particular skills and then were approached to form some kind of tactical team?”

  Isaac gave a cold laugh. “Not exactly. We were raised for this.”

  “Sorry?” I didn’t understand.

  “You don’t know much about our pasts yet, do you, Darcy?”


  I shook my head. “No, that’s why I’m asking. I want to know more about you.”

  Isaac’s gaze spanned across the other four men in the room. “All of us are orphans, though we weren’t the kind of cute baby orphans who people are fighting to adopt. We each lost our parents when we were older children, all over the age of five.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I interrupted, hating to think of any of them—even Isaac—alone and unloved as children.

  Isaac continued. “No one wants older boys, especially not older boys who’ve lost their parents and clearly have issues.”

  I tried to piece together how them being orphans was connected to what they were doing now. “So, did you know each other as children?”

  “Not small children, no, but we were brought together later.”

  I frowned. “By who?”

  “By the same group we work for now. As soon as we started showing talent for something, we were taken away from our respective foster care homes.”

  “Taken where?”

  “To another foster home, of sorts, but this one was run by the people we work for now. Whatever we’d showed natural skills in became our main focus, so from a very early age, we were all learning to become specialists in our fields.”

  “But you were just kids. How old were you when you were taken?”

  Isaac shrugged. “I was the oldest out of the group, and I was almost ten.”

  Something occurred to me. “But your accent. How could you have been brought up here?”

  “My parents moved over here so my father could work for some science company, though I couldn’t tell you which one now. Both he and my mother were killed in a car accident during an evening out when I’d been left with a sitter. I didn’t have any family back in England, so I guess no one really knew what to do with me. I ended up in a foster care home here, but I never really lost the accent.”

  I looked to the others.

  “I was the youngest at five,” Clay said.

  Lorcan raised a hand. “I was seven.”

  “So was I,” Alex said.

  “I was older as well,” said Kingsley. “I was nine when I was brought to the home.”