Page 155 of Lesson In Faith

“Merrick,” Grit said tersely in his ear. “We have movement in the woods. Lone female heading north.”

No, no, no. Teeth bared, Merrick saw triumph light in his adversary’s eyes. “You told me she was locked down.”

“Track her down,” Jedidiah ordered, obviously receiving the same data. “Keep her alive. I’ll kill her myself.”

Like hell he would, Merrick vowed silently. Even as Drake surged to his feet, hand whipping behind his back to yank a pistol free and aim it at his chest, Merrick was already in motion. Bellowing in fury, he charged, leading with his head and shoulders.

They collided head on like a semi and an SUV, the older man going down beneath Merrick’s weight. There was a loud crack, a brutal sear of heat gouging through his belly, but it didn’t stop him.

Adrenaline and fear blocking out everything but the threat to Tamsyn’s safety, Merrick reared back, clamping his hand on Jedidiah’s wrist, twisting away the gun before another shot fired, and kept twisting until the bones snapped.

The gun dropped to the ground as Jedidiah screamed, but Merrick wasn’t done. Far from it. Ignoring the blood spreading over the asshole’s clothing, he dug his fingers into the fragile skin of Jedidiah’s neck, pinning him down and cutting off his air as his other hand fisted and smashed into the enemy’s nose.

Weeks of impotent fury, of a desperate desire to find justice for his little owl, bubbled up into a tidal wave of retribution. He pummeled Drake’s ribs and stomach, coating his fist in his own damn blood, until the fucker couldn’t summon the barest scream through the constriction around his throat.

His fist hammered down on fragile facial bones, cracking them, breaking them, turning flesh into a swollen mess of black and red, blood and destruction. He pounded Jedidiah’s face into an unrecognizable portrait, squeezing his throat until the smaller body beneath him bucked and jerked in death throes.

When it was done, when it was finally over, Merrick rolled onto his back and stared up at the bright blue sky. His ears were ringing, masking the irritating voice chirping frantically with nonsense.

There was the strangest notion he should be in pain, but he felt… nothing.

When a worried face hovered above him, he tried to lift his battered hand to touch it, frowning slightly when he didn’t have the strength. The frown smoothed out into a smile as the face morphed into Tamsyn’s, sweet and beautiful, those blessed eyes he adored watching him with love.

He said her name, only her name, before the dark consumed him whole.

*

Tamsyn

It had taken her longer than she thought to get away from the cabins without being seen. Sneaking from building to building was hard in broad delight, especially when the usual humdrum of people milling about was absent, replaced with club security.

After spending far too long hunkered down behind a bush, she finally got the nerve to break cover, darting across the path into the forest where her journey here first began.

Almost three months on, everything was different. The world wasn’t cold and white with snow, but coming alive with greenery. Spring was on its way, bringing new life with it, only—as was the way of things—something needed to die for others to live and thrive.

She wondered if Violet knew she was gone yet, or if she just believed her charge was locked in the bathroom, sulking over tiny unimportant issues like writing exercises in a book.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

Running away from the community had been freeing, terrifying, exhilarating in a way.

Running away from Merrick left a gaping hole in her chest where she’d left her heart in his possession. Even though it hurt, there was a strange sense of comfort knowing that her father would never be able to trade away any of the vital pieces of her, not when they belonged to Merrick. She would live on through him until they found each other again.

Trying not to exhaust herself in the first five minutes, Tamsyn maintained a steady pace as she cleared the sparse section of forest near the cabins. If her survival depended on her fitness level, she was doomed.

The first body she stumbled across was dressed all in camouflage. Head to toe, except for a window of clarity across his eyes. Wide, wide eyes staring blankly up into the trees, already obscured with the film of death she’d seen before, more than once.

The fabric around his neck was gaping, exposing a thin sliver of flesh sliced open. Blood stained his skin, soaked into his clothes, pooled on the ground beneath him.

She sidestepped around him, exhaling shakily to keep herself calm, and continued heading back toward the mountain. Death wasn’t a stranger to her, but here and now, it was a reminder of what she faced.

It could be her in that position, anytime now. An arm around her chest, a knife to her throat, andslice. She might not even see it coming—a bullet fired from a distance could end her before she heard the shot.

She didn’t see the man until it was almost too late. A tall, living, breathing man adorned in black, a belt of weapons strapped around his waist and a very sharp knife in his hand. The blade was wet with blood, a thick droplet clinging to the tip.

Tamsyn froze, meeting his eyes as his face lit with recognition.

“Well, shit. Tamsyn, right?” he asked in a low voice. “I’m a friend.”

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