Page 93 of Dance With Death

Immediately, the phone rings, startling me. Violet glares at the screen for a moment then hits speaker. Nobody talks.

“Stop worrying. I’m not coming for Holly. I don’t need to,” says a male voice.

“What have you done to her?” demands Violet. “Who is this?”

“Holly’s mind isn’t stable anymore, but I can fix that.” A pause. “Bring me the wolf, and we’ll talk.”

“That’s Viktor,” mutters Grayson.

“Oh, are all your hangers-on with you? I can only detect Leif, just as I could in the hospital earlier.” There’s an amusement to his tone that blackens Violet’s eyes further. “The wolf shifter. He’s a liability that I can’t afford.”

“I don’t believe you’d willingly meet me again, Viktor. Not alone,” says Violet.

“Good point. But I have insurance. If you bring anybody else apart from the shifter, Holly’s mind will break. Do as I ask, and we’ll discuss how to ensure that unfortunate disability never happens.”

Violet knuckles whiten around the phone, and I hastily take hold before she crushes it. “Where and when?” she asks.

“Violet!” whispers Grayson in horror.

“Not tonight. I’ll send a message once you’ve gotten your hands on the wolf. If Leif’s around, I’ll know.” He pauses for a response that doesn’t come. “Violet, much as I’d like to meet your father, don’t bring him or inform him. If I see or sense the man, Holly will literally lose her mind. And we all know that Dorian doesn’t care who gets hurt in order to win his battles.”

At that moment, with those words from Viktor, any chance that Violet will do the correct and sensible thing evaporates. How the hell do we get her out of this one?

32

VIOLET

Everybody is obsessed with this duckling, as if I’ve performed the most abhorrent act imaginable. At least the bird’s fuzzy, endearing features distract Holly from the discussion occurring between her parents and mine outside the door of her new hospital room.

“Did you bring me a ‘get well soon’ duckling?” asks Holly as she captures the bird in her palms.

“I couldn’t find a piglet.”

“You once told me you don’t tell jokes, Violet. I may have mental issues right now, but I know that’s one.” She studies the duckling as she speaks, mouth turning down.

“You do not have mental issues,” I say stiffly.

“Not ones that the doctors could medicate.” She looks up, face drawn. “A witch did this. It’s a spell.”

I shift uncomfortably in the seat by the window. “A temporary spell.”

“How temporary? Is your father going to fix me?” She inclines her head to the door. “Dorian wants to take me to Scotland. I guess I’ll visit your house after all.”

“Scotland? He never informed me.” I glare at the door. Dorian wants me under his watch, and he knows I’ll join Holly. “But I suppose you will be safest there.”

“And you’ll come too?”

“Naturally.” But I have plans. Find Dashiell.

“You don't sound happy about that.”

“I have a lot on my mind,” I say curtly.

The contact from Viktor last night constantly cycles in my mind. I’ve waited for days, but expected the communication to be more surreptitious, perhaps a hint, or a message on Instagram.

But this. Asking me to meet him alone and handover Dashiell in return for Holly’s safety? A dilemma. The guys want to stop me, naturally, and I’ve an extra struggle on my hands with Rowan’s bond to me. He won’t make sensible decisions if he believes I’m under threat and shouted at me for making my own crazy ones.

I must carefully consider how to handle this, but one thing is sure: I am not telling Dorian.

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