Rebecca Zanetti - Blind Faith

Publishing a book requires both solitude to write and collaboration to make happen. BLIND FAITH wouldn’t exist without the generosity and hard work from several amazing people. I’d first like to express my gratitude to my family and friends, especially Big Tone, for keeping me from becoming a hermit as I write.

A big thank-you to my editor, Michele Bidelspach, who is singularly one of the most insightful and intelligent women I’ve ever had the honor of working with.

To my agent, Caitlin Blasdell, who has provided much needed guidance, humor, and protection in this wild publishing industry—my career and writing are where they are right now because of our mutual hard work. To Liza Dawson, thank you for the support and the fun dinners while at conferences!

Thanks to Megha Parekh for all the hard work and great communication, and thanks to copy editor Carrie Andrews and production editor Jamie Snider for the precise, excellent work. Thank you also to Diane Luger and Larry Rostant for the truly awesome book covers, and to everyone at Grand Central Publishing / Forever who work so tirelessly getting books to happy readers.

Finally, thanks to my street team, Rebecca’s Realm Runners, for the incredible support and a fun place to play on Facebook.

Southern Tennessee Hills

Twenty Years Ago

Nathan’s boots echoed on the hard tiles, the deep sound thrown back by the cinder blocks lining the wall. He’d wiped the snow off the bottom of his boots before heading inside, but the soles were still slippery. His eleven-year-old gut churned, and his mind spun. His older brother, Mattie, was out on a mission, and shit was about to hit the fan.

The situation was totally Nate’s fault, but he couldn’t be taken from the facility. If he was forced out, Matt would blame himself. And who would take care of the two younger brothers when Matt went out on assignment? At around twelve years old, Matt often went out on a job, and somebody had to protect Shane and Jory. Nate had taken on the duty years ago.

He paused outside of the office doorway and took several deep breaths. Centering himself, he smoothed his face into innocent lines and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came the low baritone of the commander.

Sweat dripped down Nate’s back. He shoved open the door and hurried inside to stand at attention. The scents of bleach and gunpowder nauseated him.

The commander studied him with black, fathomless eyes while sitting behind a metal desk. He wore a soldier’s uniform, his hair in a buzz cut, his body lean and hard. Behind him sat a woman furiously scribbling in a notebook on a small table. Dr. Madison, the head scientist who studied the cadets at the facility, liked to scribble.

“We seem to have a situation, Cadet Nathan,” the commander said.

Nate’s spit dried up. “Yes, sir.” God, please make the situation be about what he’d done wrong and not about Matt’s mission. Matt was invincible. Nothing could happen to him.

“We found your stash of tree, decorations, and cookies,” Dr. Madison said, her blue eyes narrowing in calculation.

Relief tickled down Nate’s spine. Matt was all right. “Yes, ma’am.” Damn it. He’d hidden those items carefully in a storage shack on the outskirts of one of the training fields. How had they found everything?

“Cadet Nathan, this is a military facility. You are a soldier created in a lab to follow orders and protect our organization.” The commander pushed back from the desk and rose to his full height. “How in the world did you learn about Christmas?”

Nate tilted his head to look way up at the commander’s face. Someday Nate would be taller and bigger. Even tougher. But now, not so much. “I can’t remember, sir.” In truth, he and his three brothers had snuck into computer rooms to watch television sitcoms via satellite. The idea of Christmas had struck a chord with all of them.

The brothers fought for freedom by following orders, and they fought for other people to have families and pretty trees with presents. Maybe someday Nate and his brothers could have that, too. If they were strong enough and good enough, maybe they’d get families who would love them. Christmas seemed to be about family and love, both of which intrigued Nate until his chest hurt.

“Humph.” The commander clasped his hands behind his back. “I take it you were planning some sort of celebration with your brothers?”

Nate’s knees wobbled, but he stayed upright. “Yes, sir. I thought the younger brothers should have good memories of their childhoods.” It was too late for him, and that was all right. But he needed to give his younger brothers something good in their lives. Plus, seeing the younger kids happy cut down on Matt’s guilt over how hard he trained them.

“How did you procure the items?” Dr. Madison asked, her pencil poised to write.

Nate shrugged. “I cut off the top of a tree and made the decorations from old weapons.” The presents he’d either stolen throughout the compound or made himself, and those were hidden somewhere else. Hopefully safely. Jory would love the modified remote-control attack helicopter.

“I could have you hanged,” the commander said thoughtfully.

Dread and fear heated Nate’s lungs. Who would take care of Shane and Jory? “Yes, sir.”

The commander scratched his chin and eyed Madison. “Well?” he asked her.

Nate gulped in air and looked toward the woman. Would she want him hanged?

Dr. Madison pursed her red lips. “I think we should give Cadet Nathan a choice.”

Great. Another one of her crappy experiments. “A choice, ma’am?” Nate asked.

“Yes. The first choice is that you relinquish all of the Christmas items, and we’ll forget this ever happened.” She tapped her pencil on the paper. “The second choice is that you go ahead with Christmas for your brothers, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

Nate swallowed. “What’s the catch, ma’am?”

She smiled, revealing sharp white teeth. “A few days after your pseudo-Christmas, you go onto the training field with the three oldest Brown brothers.”

The three oldest were all around fifteen, and although Nate was a hell of a fighter, he’d get hurt. Nobody could take on all three of them.

His mind reeled as he considered his options. A little bit of pain was worth giving Shane and Jory a small bit of happiness. Of thinking they were part of a real family with good times. Plus, Matt often came back from a mission angry and depressed. A happy memory would be good for him, too.

“I’ll take the second choice—with one condition,” Nate said, his chin lifting.

Dr. Madison giggled. “Listen to the boy, Commander. He’s giving us conditions.”

The commander lifted a dark eyebrow, his lip twisting. “What’s the condition, Cadet?”

Nathan took a deep breath. Maybe the Brown brothers wouldn’t break too many of his bones. “This deal is between us, and I don’t go onto the field with the Browns until Matt is out on another mission.” Jory and Shane would think Nate had gotten in trouble but wouldn’t know why. Hopefully by the time Matt returned, Nate would be mostly healed, so he wouldn’t figure it out. “Matt can’t know the truth.”

“Interesting.” Madison smoothed back her black hair. “You don’t want him to know you’re sacrificing your health for your brothers?”

“No, ma’am.” Definitely not. Matt would blame himself and maybe go off the deep end and finally challenge the commander. None of them were ready for that. Yet.