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Julia Farentino was the first on his list.
Why was it that the women he always found the most fascinating turned out to be the most deadly?
The cell phone jangled in his hand, and he smiled as he clicked it on and lifted it to his ear. A frantic voice on the other end of the line hissed, “Jesus, Jules, what’re you doing here? Doesn’t it totally freak you out that students are dying here? I mean dying! As in dead! I … I thought you came down here to get me out of here—well, do it already. You have to! Whatever it takes, do it ASAP! Call Edie! Call Dad! Call the damned president! Just get me out! Oh, damn, I think someone’s coming….”
The line went dead.
He swore under his breath.
Things were worse than he’d thought. Belatedly, he realized that his right-hand man was right. He had to act swiftly. Vengefully.
There was no time for a meeting in the small church; it was too far away, would take away precious time from their purpose. But there was another place within the campus.
It was more dangerous to meet there, but he had no choice.
A gust of wind slammed against the building, shaking the timbers, rattling the windows.
The Leader took it as a sign from God.
Omen.
The note had said Omen.
And it had been.
Maeve knew what she had to do, where she had to go.
But she was afraid.
She snapped the band on her wrist, the sting calming the frantic part of her mind so that she could think straight. Had Ethan sent her the note? The romantic part of her had hoped so, had prayed that he still loved her. Desperation tore at her heart. She so wanted to believe that he, her soul mate, had realized that they were meant to be together.
Her dreams had shattered, though, after spotting him with Kaci. Flirting with her. Rubbing it in Maeve’s face.
Maybe it was a test.
To see just how deep her love was, her adoration.
Didn’t he know that she would do anything for him, even if it meant sacrificing herself?
Wasn’t that the way love worked?
Maeve was no longer sure. She had gone to her group counseling session with Dean Williams and tried to participate, but the discussion about the strength of a woman in a relationship had cut too close to the bone tonight.
And even though she was supposed to go with her partner back to the dorm, she’d ducked out. Her “security partner” hadn’t cared. That’s the way it was with Crystal; she didn’t really give a damn about anyone but herself.
Which worked out just fine, because Maeve didn’t need any prying eyes or questions.
She felt the knife tucked deep in her boot and smiled to herself. If things didn’t work out, there was always the comfort of the sharp little blade, a special glinting solace in seeing her own blood ooze in a perfect line against her skin.
Her hand was cold, getting numb, because she had to push up her sleeve to snap the rubber band at her wrist. But she could wait. She let the sleeve fall down now, knowing there would be satisfaction.
Either Ethan.
Or the blade.
She only hoped that he would prove himself tonight, that he would truly be Romeo to her Juliet. She remembered a quote, dark, jeweled words that touched her as she walked through the snow and thought of Ethan … perfect, handsome Ethan.
“These violent delights have violent ends….”
