Page 39 of Dance With Death

“How badly is Holly hurt?” I ask.

Violet blinks back to me. “She’s alive, luckily for you.”

“I don’t believe you’d kill me, but direct your anger my way, if you want.”

The weight of her on me, the blood trickling from her eyes, and magic in her veins screaming out to me. I close my eyes, not against what she might do next, but hating she’s prompting the truth I’ve denied.

Dorian is correct. I’m Petrescu. However much I deny my heritage, desire for powerful witch blood is woven into my soul.

Violet’s nails leave my shoulders, and she drags hands through her hair. “What you just said.” Her voice cracks. I’ve never heard Violet’s voice weaken or seen the hybrid in control of herself like this. “I’m to blame. Not you.”

“No.” I reach out to Violet, but she slaps my hand away. “You didn’t put Holly in danger. You wanted to protect her.”

“But I can’t!” she shouts, and I wince at the volume. “I should never have allowed myself to get close to her. To anybody. I don’t understand this world, and I don’t belong here.”

Violet’s weight lifts from me as she stands, and I pull in a breath, watching as she stares at the window. Surely Violet isn’t about to jump out? I spring to my feet, and this time when I reach out, I hold Violet’s wrist tightly.

Then yelp and let go as her magic burns my skin.

“Shit, Violet.” I rub at my palm.

“Leave me alone. Be grateful I found my better side before I tore into you.” She pulls the pendant she wears from beneath her sweater.

A short, sharp blade appears from inside the silver casing, and Violet strides into the bathroom then drops to her knees on the tiles. As I try to follow, the door slams, just as I glimpse the blood welling from her fingertips.

What the…? Shit. Runes.

“Violet!” I shout. “You can’t leave.” Silence. “Don’t run away! You always worry you’ll be implicated, and that’ll happen again if you run.”

How long does it take to paint the runes?

“Open the door!” I yell.

As if she would.

Without considering the vandalism charge heading my way, I kick at the door, splintering the lock. The door slams open to reveal Violet, and half the runes needed to leave daubed around her on the gray tiles.

The world lurches for a moment, and I grip the frame. Anybody looking at me, not knowing I’m hemia, would see a guy disgusted by blood. Instead, the need roars through my mind, emotions heightening the dark thoughts.

Stop her.

Taste the blood.

Violet begins to paint faster, and I muster my strength, darting forward to snatch both of Violet’s arms, and lift her from the floor. She screams at me, and as Violet flings me backwards with a spell, I grab the blade from her hand. The knife cuts into my palm, and I hit my head on the windowsill.

But a Petrescu fueled by any type of lust won’t be stopped by any magic—not unless Violet brings out the shadows.

Her blood-streaked face and bleeding hand.

The blood on the floor from her half-performed spell.

I’ve a crazed mind to crawl across the floor and consume what I can.

Rowan used Violet’s shadows to bind Josef and stop him attacking, and I eye her fingers for any emerging wisps. Nothing. Her hands tremble, and she stares at my bleeding hand too.

“Let me leave,” Violet says, hoarsely, and stands.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, I fully launch myself at Violet. She stumbles back as I seize her hand and lift the palm to my mouth. Seal the cut. Stop Violet from finishing the rune spell.

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