Chapter 1 Cade #2
I tap the brakes, swerving the wheel slightly as the unease builds, and I pull off to the side in a movie theater parking lot.
I should change cars just in case. The area has a few in the lot.
I grab my duffel bag from the passenger seat and set my sights on a beat-up old wagon two spaces down.
I try for the door. It’s unlocked. How convenient.
The thing looks like a forgotten relic from the eighties.
Rusted, unkempt, and totally under the radar.
Perfect.
I toss my bag in and slam the door shut.
My fingers tremble as I hotwire it as quickly as I’m able.
Tiny wires are not my thing. I fumble a bit with them before the engine sputters to life.
I hate this shit. If anyone is following me, they won’t think twice about this piece of junk.
I shift gears, and the seat rattles beneath me as the wheels hum under the vehicle.
Thankfully it holds together long enough to get me close to the airport.
I ditch it near an abandoned gas station and walk the remaining way to my hotel.
Tomorrow, I’ll be back in Washington—safe, secure, and out of sight.
I jump at a sudden vibration in my pocket, fumbling to pull the phone out. It’s Jack, right on time. Fuck, I need to get a handle on myself. Attempting to steady my fingers, I swipe the screen to answer.
Jack’s voice comes through, loudly chewing something as he speaks. “Yo, is it done?”
I drag my hand down my face. “Yeah, it’s done,” I answer, trying to push the unease crawling up my spine back where it belongs… What the hell is wrong with me? I grit my teeth, forcing my mind to focus.
“You good, Cade?” Jack asks, his voice dropping slightly, sensing something’s off. When I don’t respond immediately, he continues, sounding serious, “You’ll be happy to know I found our next target, and it took me less time than I expected.”
“These assholes aren’t exactly hiding, Jack.” I smirk to myself despite the rising feeling. The Covenant created me in their own image, a weapon. Their dutiful soldier.
“We’re going to get them, Cade.”
I tilt my head back, taking in a long breath.
A smirk tugs at my lips despite myself. “Yeah, but the higher-ups in the Covenant won’t be so easy.”
“Keep an eye on the target.” My purpose returns in full force. Fucking finally. The thrill of the hunt, of tracking them down, of getting to the ones pulling the strings—it steadies me. “I’ll get the full details when I’m back.”
“Got it, boss.”
I hang up the phone, letting the silence settle in, but the weight of everything lingers.
And it’s not just the mission anymore—it’s something else I can’t quite place
I head into the hotel, each step heavier than the last. My hand trembles, feeling distant—like it’s not my own but still familiar.
This is fucking annoying. It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside.
I struggle with the key card, fingers numb as I slide it into the slot.
It clicks, the light turns green, and I step inside.
The room feels too quiet. Too empty.
Stripping off my clothes, I move mechanically toward the bathroom. The shower knob turns quickly under my fingers, the rush of water filling the silence.
Staring into the mirror, my eyes trace the scar on my face that reaches from my cheekbone down to my jaw.
The reflection blurs. Like I’m not here but instead watching from the other side of the glass.
I focus on my hair… It’s been too long since I’ve had it cut properly.
Then I see it, a shiny silver strand caught in the black mass.
“Are grays normal at my age? Must be stress…” I mumble. My voice sounds hollow, like it’s not even mine.
I lean closer to the mirror, inspecting the silver intruder. The closer I get, the more disconnected I feel. My face seems… off. The edges of my features seem soft and out of focus, like my reflection doesn’t belong to me anymore, my dark eyes unfamiliar.
As the steam fogs up the glass, further distorting my reflection, I squint, leaning in. It almost looks like another face is overlapping mine… like a shadow over my own, or an overlay of someone else’s expression.
I wipe away the fog, but the other face vanishes, leaving only my own, strained and blurry. I rub my eyes, trying to shake the feeling off. It was just the steam. A trick of the light.
I step into the shower, hoping the water will ground me, bring me back to something real. The heat pours over me, hitting my scalp, my back, rinsing away the day’s grime and tension.
Under the steady rhythm of the water, my body relaxes, lost in the comfort it provides. Time slips away, but in the reprieve, my mind drifts, too quickly, back to the mission.
Flashes of my parents’ bodies tangled in their bed.
The cold sting of the ritual room.
Artifacts glinting under dim light.
The memories bear down, heavy and unwanted.
No. No distractions.
Not now.
I was groomed to take over the Order of the Covenant. So, I know how to end them. My next target is within reach, and now that I’ve gotten rid of his daughter, gaining access to him should be easy. I force my mind back on track. Concentrate. There’s still work to do.
I step out of the shower, wrapping my towel around my waist as I crawl into the bed. The cool fabric against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the night. Sleep drags me under, and my dreams are fragmented, distorted—nothing that makes sense, everything twisting.
Except for one thing.
I see someone. They’re holding a book, eyes focused on the pages, but as if they sense me watching, they look up.
They don’t have a face.
Just an empty space staring back at me, like there’s a black hole in the place where a face should be. But before I can truly process… oh fuck no…
The blackness pulls at me, swallowing me whole, deeper and deeper until it feels like I’m falling—endlessly falling into the void. Eyes surround me.
So many eyes.
Waiting.
Watching.
I can feel them on my skin. They’re everywhere, and it’s fucking suffocating. Then, I hit bottom, but it’s not what I expected. It’s soft. A familiar warmth, like the feeling of being caressed, even though I can’t see anything.
My body tenses, but the touch is gentle—delicate. Hands glide over my skin, tracing my chest, neck, and arms. Electricity pulses through each touch, and goose bumps rise as my body responds, even though I can’t explain why.
I feel myself growing hard, the touch both foreign and strangely familiar. Hands explore my body, moving lower, their fingers grazing my hips and then my thighs. It feels too real, too intense, like something I’ve always wanted but never let myself acknowledge.
“Fuck…” I mouth in a breathless whisper. “Who are you?”
There’s no answer, but they continue to touch, intimate and precise.
The sensation overwhelms me. On instinct my hips begin to rock into it, as if I am no longer in control of my body.
Then, without warning, my cock is freed from the confines of my pants and I feel it being taken into their mouth.
A blurred aura. Lips moving up and down in rhythmic precision, too perfect to be real.
“Oh my God…” The words escape me, muffled by the pleasure. “So good, too fucking good.”
I reach my hands out to find something, anything, but my searching hands meet only air. Nothing tangible.
“What is this?”
I throw my head back, lost in the sensation, but the moment quickly severs, as if it was never actually there. In the next moment I’m met with a caress, and it almost feels like lips meeting my forehead. Ethereal. It snaps me awake.
My brows furrow, and I jerk upright, sheets tangled around my legs. The room is still as my heart pounds in my chest.
I look over at the clock on the bedside table: 3:33 a.m. I gaze down, my body still betraying me—hard and wanting. My stomach twists in disgust when I noticed the sheet is stained.
“Wet dreams now?” I grumble to myself, exasperated. “I’m fucking losing it.”