Page 119 of Dance With Death

“What?” asks Holly, looking between us.

“Violet wants to hand me to Viktor!” Dashiell runs a hand across the top of his head.

“Omigod! Is that true, Violet?” Holly asks, and I stay quiet. “I knew you were all lying to me. You hated Dashiell. You’d never let him go.”

“How were you in the basement?” I demand. “I left you with the others in the lounge room.”

“As soon as Grayson came back without you, I knew something was wrong. I told them I needed to use the bathroom, and the stairs are in the hallway. You weren’t in the kitchen; you had to be with Dashiell. Why are you doing this?”

“Why did you come?” I demand. “Are you delusional enough to think that you can stop any plans I had for Dashiell? Don't you understand this is to help you?”

Holly laughs, the sound hollow, and she struggles to her feet. Dashiell hooks his arms beneath hers to help, but she pushes at him. “Dash. Shift and run.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warn the shifter.

“Holly did you a favor by coming with us,” he says harshly. “I can’t try to escape; I’m not leaving her with psychos.”

“Psychos?” I tune my senses to the surroundings again. “No. There’re no other witches here. I can’t detect Viktor yet.”

“I mean you’re the other psycho!” he snaps. “You told me you’d kill Viktor to help free Holly from his control, but never mentioned I was bait!” He bares his teeth.

I regard him silently for a moment, wishing that Holly’s distress wasn’t disturbing me. “Did you believe your actions against my friend would go unpunished? That I helped you escape Dorian out of the goodness of my heart?”

“What heart?” Holly’s voice rises. “You’re no better than your father!”

I ready a response, but Holly’s voice cuts dead. I turn my head, to where she’s staring from the trees towards the open clearing. Viktor?

“Who’s here?” I ask her.

Holly doesn’t register my question, or Dashiell, who’s touching her face, speaking gently. She’s lost again. That recently all-too-familiar blend of fear and anger bubbles as I brace myself for the scream.

Dashiell pushes a curl from Holly’s face and strokes her cheek. “Holly?”

No response. No scream.

The first time I met Viktor, I didn’t sense the witch’s energy until he stood close to me. Now, I’m acutely aware of Viktor’s magic from a distance. He’s drawing the world to him rather than creating a barrier, as if a fire consuming oxygen. My parents contain a similar energy, but theirs projects outwards to smother the environment. This witch sucks away life.

“Viktor is nearby,” I say.

Dash draws Holly to him, face determined, but his breathing speeds at my mention of Viktor. Holly’s stiff, her body hardened by the spell, as she continues to stare ahead. I swallow. Will she be pliable under Viktor’s control like Leif was at the reno house?

Is this shifter really ignoring the chance to run due to Holly’s presence?

My fingers band Dashiell’s forearm, and I drag him with me as I move to the direction Holly stares in. I step into the agreed meeting place, and an invisible imprint of horror from the day Holly could’ve died fills the clearing in the woods. The true culprit stands at the edge opposite.

Last time, we met at night, and although shadow masked Viktor’s face, the thick-set witch’s soulless eyes stood out to me. Even completely visible in the early morning light, those eyes still stand out the most.

He doesn’t move or speak as we regard each other, but his lips curl into a smile as he looks at Holly a few meters behind me.

He came alone? Mistake. Viktor dies. Now.

I take one step towards Viktor before I’m stopped—not by his magic, but a high-pitched scream behind me. I whirl around to where Holly mirrors the day at the hospital, mouth open, eyes vacant, close to a wide trunk at the edge of the clearing.

“Now, now, Violet,” says Viktor, holding a palm out towards me. “I may not have companions, as I promised, but I have ways to protect myself from a hybrid who’s gone soft.”

“Stop,” I say through gritted teeth as the scream pierces the quiet morning. “I brought the shifter. Leave Holly alone.”

We remain apart at opposites ends of the clearing. Viktor wears his false personality’s uniform; a blue polo shirt embroidered with his company name, khaki cargo pants and heavy work boots. Ordinary, as if dealing with a small personal matter before he starts work.

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