Ryan’s past isn’t just haunting her. It’s trying to kill her.
Ryan McCarthy fled Applied Paranormal Theory and Tactics, her father
and her lover six years ago, desperate to build life away from the
weird science and supernatural experiments of her childhood. But
everything she hoped To escape comes back with a vengeance when she's
kidnapped and tortured by a possessed APTT employee out for revenge on
the man responsible for his possession: Ryan's father.
Now, reunited with the lover she abandoned, Ryan is forced back into a
world of danger and darkness she no longer understands, pursued by
enemies with powers she can't fathom. But Ryan's not entirely
powerless herself. She'll have to use every trick she knows - as well
as the mystic gift she hates -to stay ahead of those enemies. And that
will be easier said than done.
The blade was so sharp I didn’t feel it cut into my skin at first. A
breath later, the pain kicked in like a line of fire down my spine,
warm blood sliding in its wake. I hissed through my teeth and pulled
against the ropes binding me to no avail.
“We don’t have to do this, Ryan,” Jarrett told me, his breath hot
against the curve of my neck. “Just tell me where Van is and I’ll let
I said nothing. Mostly because I didn’t know where Van was – hadn’t
even seen him for six years – but partly because I just didn’t want to
give the bastard the satisfaction of my surrender.
He sighed and moved round to stand in front of me, his eyes roving
over my bare breasts. “You’re going to force me to do a lot of
damage.” He almost sounded regretful.
I spat in his face. He blinked, recoiling, then slapped me. Hard. The
dark room spun, bright sparks flashing before my eyes. “Why are you
protecting him, Ryan? Do you think he’d do the same for you?” Jarrett
I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath, shuffling my feet on the
cold stone floor. My arms were stretched up over my head, tied to a
monstrous, medieval-looking light fixture that loomed over me like a
As to Jarrett's question, yes, I did think Van would do the same for
me. I thought Van would endure any kind of torture for my sake. But I
wasn’t holding my tongue because of that.
Jarrett tried again, this time pressing the point of the knife to my
throat. “Maybe you think I won’t really hurt you,” he mused, shaking
his fair hair from his eyes. “Maybe you think I’m bluffing?” He pushed
ever so slightly forward and the knife pricked my skin again. Another
thin line of blood painted my pale flesh.