Colby Core

He was in … at least far enough to get a face-to-face with the boss.

The first step. If he could convince the boss of his own usefulness, maybe—just maybe—he could get all the way into the organization.

It was the only way to dismantle an operation this large and this sophisticated.

From the inside.

He would, as quickly as possible, learn the key players and then he would move on to step two. That was the most time sensitive and crucial step: take out one or more pivotal pieces of the foundation. Then the entire network collapsed.

Step two would be easy as long as he stayed alive.

Chapter Two

11:05 p.m.

The cold wind whistled through the cracks in the window frame. Tessa touched the wood frame, registering the roughness of the peeling paint that had once been white and the chunks of missing caulk that allowed the frigid air to seep into the room.

Her gaze drifted past the wavy glass of the century-old window, past the intimidating black iron bars, to the snow that remained on the ground. She couldn’t remember the last time it had snowed for Christmas. Her lips ached with the need to smile. But smiling was forbidden.

The Master did not allow his family to smile or to laugh.

Holidays were difficult sometimes. Memories crept in … reminding her of how it used to be.

Before …

“Tessa.”

A tremble slid through her, shaking her bones. She turned to face him. “Yes?”

“Ensure the children and the patients remain in their rooms.”

For a long moment she simply stared in response. Taller than most men, six-three or -four. He worked out religiously to keep his muscles big and hard. Used steroids liberally to be sure they stayed that way well after his youth had become a distant memory. Always dressed in elegant attire. Everything about him, except his skin, was black. Hair, eyes, clothing. He used his coloring, his size and even his clothes to inspire fear.

It always worked.

No one dared cross him.

“Tessa?”

The warning in his tone trapped the oxygen beneath her sternum for a moment more. “Yes.” She blinked, forced away all other thought save his order. “I’ll make sure.”

He surveyed her room, no doubt noting that the covers of her bed had not as of yet been turned down. “I believe it’s past your bedtime, is it not?”

Tessa nodded. She smoothed a hand over the pink flannel of her gown. The metal key in the pocket pressed reassuringly against her hip. “I was about to lie down, but I thought I heard something outside.”

“That would be security’s concern.”

“Of course.”

She held her breath until he’d gone. As long as she obeyed, she could take care of the children and the patients. More caution was necessary. She couldn’t make a mistake. For years she had watched the unthinkable treatment of those confined … she had worked diligently to reach a position of some authority so that she could change that sadness. So that she could devise a plan.

No matter the cost to her, she could not lose that small power.

In spite of that need, she still longed for freedom … escape. There had been opportunities … few and rare, but opportunities nonetheless. She would not take advantage of the chance to escape without being able to take the others with her.

To take the child.

An ache rose in her throat.

No matter the cost.

Pay attention. She squared her shoulders. Something was happening tonight. There was an unusual tension in the air. A sense of anticipation.

For the past hour or so she had seen the seemingly frantic coming and going of the others assigned to the house. There were no other deliveries or pick-ups on the schedule for the next eight days.

Fear trickled into her veins. If he had increased his schedule … No. She shook her head. It was too risky. He wouldn’t do that. She would know if changes had been set in motion.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Tessa turned away from the window and moved toward the door, her bare feet soundless on the frigid floor.

She couldn’t think about the deliveries or the pickups. Taking care of the children and the patients was all that mattered. That was her life now.

At least until the time was right. The opportunity was close … so very close.

A shiver rumbled through her body as defeat weighed heavily down upon her. Stop. Nothing would stop her … she would find a way, no matter the obstacles that arose. Her plan was solid … but the timing had to be perfect.

Outside her door, along the dark, silent corridor were two large rooms besides her own. Tessa removed the key from her pocket and unlocked the first door.

She didn’t turn on the light for fear of waking the sleeping children. Whatever was happening, it could be dangerous. The children would be safest if they were asleep. Noise—not even a whimper—was allowed past eight in the evening.

Tessa crouched down next to the first bed. She pinched her lips together to prevent the forbidden. The urge to sweep soft blond hair back from the little girl’s forehead forced her to clench her fingers. She drew the fist to her lips and resisted the new urge to cry.

She had to protect the child.

She had to protect them all.

In a few days, at most, everything would change … it would all be over.

Clinging to that hope, Tessa moved to the next bed, then the next and the next. All four children slept soundly. All beautiful blond-haired girls with dazzling blue eyes.

And one, her gaze wandered back to the first bed, was the most beautiful of all.

Careful not to make any noise, she padded back to the door. Once in the corridor she closed and locked the door to the children’s room.

Her heart sank into her belly as she approached the next door. Tessa moistened her lips and unlocked it. Her hand shook as she removed the key and slid it into her pocket. Bracing for the misery, she turned the knob. A creak made her flinch. She prayed those inside, too, would be asleep. It would be best if they didn’t ask questions. Their cries and pleas took a heavy toll on Tessa.

Holding her breath, she eased into the dark room. The thick drapes on the windows blocked the moonlight from filtering inside. Beyond the drapes, on all the windows in the house, were iron bars that prevented anything inside from slipping out.

She moved quickly to the first of four narrow beds that lined the walls. Like the children, the women slept soundly. With no nightlight, Tessa couldn’t see their faces in the thick blackness, but she could hear their breathing. Slow, deep, rhythmic. Sleep was their only escape from a reality too horrifying to endure for more than a few hours at a time.