The Life and Death of Lauren Conway (Mercy 2)

And yet here she was.

Trapped in her own fear and passion.

She spread the blinds apart with her fingers again.

Don’t buy into it, Lauren, that’s exactly what he wants. What he expects. Be strong! She set her jaw to keep her lips from quivering as she squinted into the darkness. You’ve got a plan; a way to get out of here. You just have to put it into action a little earlier than you’d hoped. You can do it.

You have to!

She snapped off the desk lamp to ensure that she wasn’t backlit as she eyed the sprawling campus again. The rustic-looking buildings, built of cedar, stone and glass, were illuminated by the half moon as it rose behind the mountains and bathed the snow-covered grounds in its hazy, ethereal glow.

A perfect night for escape.

Her pulse pounded, almost in counterpoint to the winking shrubbery lights. Panic drummed through her and she tried like crazy to calm down. She just needed a couple of hours, that was all, and then she could get away.

Or was it already too late?

She gazed again across the quad to the chapel. Behind a soaring wall of glass, the watery sheen of security lights partially illuminated the altar and magnificent cross that ascended four stories to the cathedral ceiling.

Her gaze scoured the grounds.

Somewhere he was out there.

Hiding.

Waiting.

Wanting.

Her lungs were so tight she could barely breathe. Her heartbeat thundered through her brain and the certainty of danger swept like a demon’s breath over her skin, causing it to pimple in fear.

Craning her neck, she tried to look past the cluster of classrooms, admin buildings and dorms, to catch a glimpse of the barns, stables and outbuildings. But it was impossible. Only in her mind’s eye could she visualize the inte

rlocking corrals surrounding the stable, beyond which the looming Stygian forest began. Though a thick stands of timber, hidden deep in the woods was an even darker spot, a secret meeting place. Where he reigned.

Her head pounded with the knowledge that even now he could be convening his disciples, those of his close, inner group who met weekly within the decrepit walls of the forgotten church. There, she knew, he would decide her fate.

She’d been a part of that secret sect.

She knew how they reacted to traitors.

Sweat beaded on her brow. She had to execute the emergency plan she’d conceived weeks ago.

Then, if she were lucky, she could leave this evil place forever, and expose it and everyone in it for the pathetic, malevolent frauds they all were.

You have to bring him down, too.

She steeled herself. Her stupid heart ached and she mentally chastised herself for being the worst kind of fool, for thinking for even a second that he really cared for her.

Idiot.

He used you.

Just like you used him.

Trouble was, you fell in love with him, didn’t you?

“Half,” she told herself, her fingers twisting in the cord for the blinds. “Only half in love.”