9
Nightshade had spentthe past six months training and rehearsing how she would react the first time she met the man who had destroyed her family. She’d planned to walk right up to him and look him in the eye, knowing she'd have to swallow back her hatred and smile and pretend to be his daughter. She’d never expected to meet him while lying down in a hospital bed after regaining consciousness, finding him clutching her hand and staring down at her like she was the most precious jewel in the world.
Their eyes met, his a startlingly similar shade of blue, and her breath caught as she hung suspended and unsure.
Senator Cotter reached a hand toward her face and she instinctively flinched away. His eyes immediately filled with tears as he slowly lowered his hand back to envelope hers. “My precious baby, what did they do to you?”
She knew from studying his photos and following him in the media that the scruffy gray beard and deep hollows under his eyes were not a staple for the senator who usually appeared completely collected and calm.
A thought hit her hard – either he was the most consummate actor she'd ever born witness to or Cotter truly loved Caroline. Hope sprang in her chest, mixing with the bitterness in a strange cocktail she didn't know how to swallow.
Perhaps... Perhaps in his sick and twisted mind, he’d kidnapped Caroline and raised her as his own daughter, giving her a true life of privilege. Maybe Caroline never had to experience the darkness and shadows of the real world or the deadly nest behind the secret government agencies that Nightshade had grown up integrated in.
Had Mankel been wrong when he’d told her Caroline was a prisoner in Cotter’s home?
His hands, only slightly larger than her own and missing the calluses she was used to, gently squeezed hers. “Caro, please, say something.” His haggard voice broke into her thoughts and Nightshade licked her dry, cracked lips.
“Where am I?” Was that her voice all hoarse and weak sounding?
“Honey, you're in Germany. They flew you straight to the army hospital here. You're going to be all right.”
“How long have I been out?” She needed to assess the situation and regain control. These wild emotions rocking her right now, more than likely the result of all the trauma and exhaustion, needed to be reined in if she was to achieve her mission and save her teammates.
“You got here the night before last. I've been so worried about you.”
Her eyes drifted shut with dread. That put her a full seven days behind schedule. Dammit. Here she was laid up in a hospital while her team suffered.
“Caro, do I need to call the doctor? Where do you hurt? What did they do to you?”
What were they doing to her sisters? Were they being tortured for information? And how had Cotter found them in the first place? It was a thought that had plagued her since she learned they’d gone missing.
Her team had been on a black ops mission, deep in the heart of Russia. She’d heard the playback from their comm’s system, knew the moment they’d been ambushed. Since then, there’d been nothing but silence. Nightshade, had remained behind with her father to train for this mission, a mission that would've taken place much later if her team hadn't been captured. She would’ve had more time to prepare.
Mankel had told her about how the government liked to experiment on their own assassins. If they’d gotten their hands on an all-female team of highly skilled operatives, there was no telling what types of horrors her unit had already been subjected to.
Seven more days lost.Seven.Were they still alive?
“Nurse! Get the doctor in here now!” Cotter yelled.
Nightshade opened her eyes, refocused and ready to do what she was trained to do.Your team. He has your team hostage.“Dad,” bile rose up her throat at the hypocrisy of that word, “I need some water.”
“Of course, darling. Here.” He yanked a Styrofoam cup from a nearby table and held the white straw to her lips. Nightshade took her time sipping the refreshing cool liquid. When she was done, her head dropped back to the pillow, the action having taxed her more than she’d anticipated.
Cotter dropped his head to her hand, pressing their skin together in a way that made her skin crawl. “This is all my fault. I almost lost you trying to protect you. I realize now that no matter how strong and powerful General Rainier is, I should've never asked you to marry him in the first place. All I care about is your happiness. Not power. Not my job. Not anything.” He swallowed convulsively, a fresh wave of tears tracking down his cheeks. “I was so stupid. Can you ever forgive me?”
Another surprise move that caught her off guard; she'd expected him to be cold and hard and distant. After all, the limo driver they’d hired to help with Caroline's kidnapping had caught a lucky break when she'd run from her own wedding. Nightshade had been sure the Senator would've been pissed at her daughter's obvious betrayal to his plans. But this might just be the excuse she needed to help ease her transition into Caroline's life.
“I don't know. I don't know anything right now.” Nightshade pulled her hand away from his face.
He hastily swiped at a tear. “I can't blame you if you hate me now, but I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear.” His heartfelt pledge rang too true for Nightshade’s liking, and she turned her head to look out the window, unsure of how to handle such raw emotion.
Her real father, Jack Mankel, had always been so clinical in their relationship, insisting that she train constantly to be prepared for the nasty world they lived in. She remembered running to him as a child, crying when she’d done something stupid and scraped her knees, blood running down her legs, and all she wanted was her daddy. She remembered when he’d sent her away and told her she needed to learn to take care of herself. He’d calmly fetched her some bandages and alcohol and taught her to clean up her own wounds. There'd been no hugs or comfort. Only lessons and training.
And over the years she’d convinced herself he was that way, so hard and unfeeling, because of the man shedding tears over her this very minute.
The door clicked open and the doctor, a man with dark gray hair and a long white lab coat, strode into the room, a chart in his hand. “Our patient has woken?”
Cotter remained at her side. “Just now.”
