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“Lorien has her,” I whispered into the phone.
Never had I felt fear like this.
Chapter Thirteen
Kenz
Looking at the back of the professor, something strange struck me. I couldn’t put it into words. Couldn’t identify the growing unease, but something in my head grew fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream that just kept slipping away.
I shut the door behind me then reached into my bag for the paper. This professor was old as dirt and hated dealing with anything digital, so I knew he offered better grades when things were printed out.
“I brought the paper, Mr. Allen,” I said, raising my voice because he was hard of hearing.
My attention was down on my bag as I sorted through it to pull out the stapled pack of pages. When I lifted my gaze, that unease made sense.
The man who turned from the bookcase wasnotProfessor Allen. He was the right height, right weight, had the same receding hairline, but he was not the man I’d expected at all.
I went to call out for Hayden, but something wrapped around my mouth to muffle the sound.
“Be a good girl and behave yourself,” whispered a voice I’d never forget.
Lorien.
I lifted my foot to stop down on his, my body reacting the way it had been trained to do, but a jerk from Lorien’s hand upset my balance and stopped me. His voice in my ear stopped me as he reached his other hand out, showing a gun that he held. “Hayden is standing on the other side of this door, right? Do you really think it would be difficult for me to unload a single shot at head level there? It would go through that door, through Hayden, and it would do you no good. I don’t mind killing him—it would make things easier on me—but believe it or not, I’mstilltrying to get you to see that I’m not the monster you think I am. So the choice is yours. Will you come with me, or will you have Hayden’s blood on your hands?”
He twisted us and aimed the gun at the door—right where I was sure Hayden was—and removed his hand from my mouth.
I went to speak, but instead of the scream I knew Hayden would have wanted, I whispered, “I’ll go.”
The press of Lorien’s lips to my head made my stomach turn, but I fought against that. “Good choice. Come on, let’s go.” He turned the lock slowly so the mechanism made no noise. He moved his hand to my forearm and tugged me toward the desk.
I looked toward the other man, who smirked as though pleased with the outcome. He was older, similar in many ways to the professor, but not an exact copy. It explained why he’d kept his back to me at first. “When do I get the rest of my money?” he asked.
“You get your reward now.” Lorien released me, then moved so fast that I had to cover my mouth to remain silent. He swung his hand out in a wide arc, the silver of a blade in his grip flashing through the room. The way it sliced through the other man’s throat as though there was no resistance at all went to show just how sharp it had to be.
The man grasped his throat, but with a wound that deep, he wouldn’t survive. The only sound that left him was a desperate gurgling. The man collapsed to his knees, then to his front, but Lorien didn’t wait to watch.
Instead, he slipped the blade back into his pocket, his actions so fast that the weapon didn’t seem to have blood on it, then opened the window smoothly. He grasped my wrist once more and pulled me through the window, away from the room, from safety, and to the unknown.
Once outside, Lorien moved so fast that I started to pant almost immediately. I’d had to run before, but I didn’t think it hadeverbeen like this. We moved through the courtyard, and the way Lorien turned, the focus he had, told me he knewexactlywhere he was headed.
Fear beat at me, a part of me wanted to resist, but another part was terrified of what might happen if I did. Lorien was dangerous. He’d just murdered someone before my eyes. What would he do if I fought with him? Who might pay the price?
I tripped, my foot catching on a root, and nearly pitched forward to the ground. I expected Lorien to just yank me harder, to drag me if he had to, which was why it startled me when he skidded to a stop to catch me before I slammed into the ground.
“Sorry,” he said softly, the word almost oddly sweet. “We have to move fast, though. Just stay with me a little longer. Don’t worry—I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I didn’t even have the chance to respond before he tugged my hand again, pulling me along with him, ducking into a door I didn’t recognize. Despite all the time I’d spent at this college, it seemed my knowledge was nothing compared to his. I kept losing my way, unsure where we’d ended up.
He took my bag from me, moving the strap up and over my head. “Sorry, but I have no doubts they can track things in here. We’ll leave it here. I’ll get your more paints, more brushes—anything you need.” He tossed the bag down as though it were unimportant, then moved his hands over my chest.
I swatted out of instinct, terrified to somehow confuse this touch with the ones I’d grown used to, that I adored.
He caught my wrist and bent down slightly, trapping me with his eyes. “I’m not feeling you up, Kenz. I’m looking for other tracking items.”
I believed him, but somehow that almost made this worse. The way he touched me, so carefully, felt like he gave a damn about me. I’d gotten that sense before, that he had some twisted obsession with me that included his own version of care, that implied he wanted me safe and happy.
Yet his own view of the world warped it, because at the end of the day, he cared more about himself than me.
