Chapter One
The Darkness doesn’t just stare back . . . it moves forward, opens its mouth, and swallows you whole.
—Tace Justice
Tace Justice read the last depressing line on the page and growled, tossing the journal across the room. When it landed, the cover slapped back into place with Hello Kitty smiling at him. Jesus. Paper was scarce, but doc could’ve found a different notebook when she’d ordered him to start journaling. Like his descent into madness really needed to be recorded by a happy cat.
He glanced around his dismal apartment in Vanguard headquarters. Worn beige bedspread, tan couch, ripped brown linoleum that smelled like, well, nothing. Hell, it probably smelled bad, but he’d lost his sense of smell. If he wasn’t crazy already, the entire room would have depressed the shit out of him. The walls had been painted white decades ago and even now stood bare and dingy. Should he get some art to brighten the place up?
Why bother? He stood and stretched, wincing as new bruises ached to life.
They’d returned mere hours before from a full-out battle up north where they’d rescued two of their own. His adrenaline had ebbed, yet his mind still spun. No way could he sleep.
A tremor started in his right foot, and he paused, taking note. It vibrated up past his knee, and he had to balance on his other leg as weakness assailed his entire limb.
Not another tremor.
He sighed and waited, breathing in and out evenly until his strength returned. Damn it. What was wrong with him? He lacked the emotion to be truly concerned, but this was certainly annoying.
His bed was empty of company, and he needed to burn off some energy. At the midnight hour, the gym downstairs would be free, so he deserted the crappy apartment, leaving the door unlocked. If anybody wanted to steal his ugly bedspread, they could take it with his blessing.
He turned down the quiet hallway where the elite Vanguard soldiers slept. All was quiet. Apparently, anybody getting some had already done so, and folks were now recuperating from the fight earlier.
Reaching the landing, he hustled down a flight of stairs to the vestibule of the brick building, tuning in to the soup kitchen to the right. No breathing. The place was deserted. Pivoting sharply, he took two stairs at a time to reach the basement, which housed their makeshift gym.
“What are you doing up?” A female voice caught him unaware.
He stopped cold at the sight of Sami Steel stretching out on the blue gym mat, her dark hair piled on top of her head, her fit body in tight yoga pants and a tank top. Bruises marred her slim jaw from the fight earlier, and a purpling lump showed on her right wrist. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, his body awakening completely. Hell, he hadn’t realized his body had been slumbering. “You?” he asked.
She breathed in, raising very nice tits. “Too keyed up from the fight earlier.”
“I’m with you.” After the fight, it had taken hours to return to Vanguard territory, so they should both have been fine by now. “We’re strange.”
She grinned, and cute lines crinkled by her soft brown eyes. “Anybody who has survived Scorpius is weird, if you ask me.”
He nodded. The Scorpius bacterium had spread through the human population like a biblical plague, killing more than 99 percent of those infected. Since the bacteria localized in the brain, it altered everyone who’d survived it. Some were faster, some meaner, some crazier, and some evil. He was still figuring out where he was landing on that spectrum, and all indications pointed to sociopathic. “You fought well earlier.”
She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Thanks, although I did notice you covering my back more than was necessary. I can kick your ass, remember?”
True. She’d been kicking his ass for months in training. The woman had been raised by a father who owned a karate studio and an uncle who owned a street fighting organization, so she’d been fighting since birth. Yet lately . . . Tace had been holding back, not wanting to hurt her. Or to take away the confidence she seemed to need. “You are tough, now, aren’t you?”
Something in his tone must’ve alerted her, because her chin lowered. “You wanna go a round?” she murmured.
His cock perked up. Damn it. He should’ve gone looking for the woman he’d been sleeping with lately, but the gym had interested him as much as sex, which was a bad sign. Lately he kept seeing Sami’s face, even with Barbara moving naked beneath him, and that could never happen. For as tough as Sami was physically, she had a delicacy of spirit he’d destroy. Right now, before he completely succumbed to his darker side, he needed to make sure they stayed colleagues. “Nah,” he said, letting his natural Texas twang free. “I don’t wanna fight.”
“Chicken,” Sami taunted, standing and pulling one arm across her chest.
His mouth went dry, but he couldn’t look away. “I, ah, was trying to write in a journal and got frustrated.” Why was he sharing?
Sami rolled her eyes and worked on the other arm. “The doc told me to start journaling, too. Said it would be good for my brain as well as a proper recording of us rebuilding civilization.”
Tace snorted. “You’ve been keeping a diary?”
“No,” Sami shot back.
Lie. Interesting. While Tace couldn’t smell things any longer, he could sure as shit make out a lie. His chest heated. Oh, he was fine with her calling him a chicken, but lying to him? The darkness inside him rose up to battle with his good intentions. “Why the hell are you so secretive?” he snapped.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed right on him. “I’m not.”
