Page 111 of Dance With Death

“Again, I have no memory of this witch you all talk about, but the guy wouldn’t leave me with any recollection of meeting him, would he?” Dashiell’s lips thin. “I wish I could bloody remember. The only image I have is a blurred one of the witch with Sam. It was weird. Sam doesn’t like witches, and he was practically groveling to the guy.”

Grayson makes a disgusted sound. “Viktor’s construct.”

“Yeah. I guess I had a lucky escape,” says Dashiell. “The work that Sam found for me never happened. Instead, I was told to watch Holly, and Sam told me I’d get paid cash for that. In his ‘interviews’, Dorian told me what happened to the other shifters who worked cash in hand for witches. Worse than dead.”

“And we’re pretty certain the witch who visited here is a necromancer called Viktor,” Rowan says. “So, yeah, you probably were next.”

Dashiell stares at his shoes. “I came down here for a job and ended up mixed up with all this crap. I’m honest when I say I didn't abduct Holly and that I protected her.”

I make a loud, scornful noise and pointedly pin him with a look. He shifts uncomfortably and looks away.

“What was the job Sam told you about?” asks Grayson. “Laboring?”

“Yeah, but I never saw the place, and Sam was vague where he’d go in the daytime.”

“Dorian checked out local building sites and renos,” says Rowan.

“What happened the night of the attack?” I interrupt.

Dashiell pulls on his sleeve. “Sam told me he had to take Holly somewhere, but he was going to have some fun first. I freaked out with thoughts about what that might mean, and persuaded Sam to let me help because Holly trusted me. I saw it as my chance to get her away from us.” The shifter meets my eyes. “I don't believe Sam planned to kill Holly, but she tried to escape and fought back. Smacked his head with a rock. You know shifters. They don't think straight when they’re animals, and Sam lost his shit.”

“Like you?” asks Rowan. “When you killed Sam?”

Every word Dashiell says lances at my heart, but this… “What fun did Sam mean?” I ask hoarsely.

Dashiell bites hard on his bottom lip. “I like to think he meant chasing Holly and scaring her. Not anything else.”

I’m jolted away from the encroaching images of Holly terrified in the woods that she projected into my mind at the hospital. What did Dashiell stop? I swallow down the sickness. The dark mist rises inside, and Rowan grabs my hand.

Sam was Viktor’s construct. He was under instructions from the necromancer. Everything that shifter did, he was obeying orders. Where was he taking Holly if he wasn’t intending to kill her?

I pace the short hallway between the kitchen and lounge, mind scrambled by thoughts of Holly’s suffering. Grayson sits on the floor, resting against the door leading to the basement, on guard. A kettle boils in the kitchen— Rowan found a lone jar of instant coffee, which he plans to drink to keep himself awake. I instructed Rowan that he should sleep instead because tomorrow he’ll need to be at full strength, but he refuses.

“You should sit with Holly,” Grayson says quietly.

“Leif is with her. He’ll let me know if she wakes.” I stare at the basement door “Do you believe everything that Dashiell told us?”

Grayson shrugs. “Go back down there and check his mind yourself.”

But I don’t want to. I’ll see Dashiell. All of him. A person, not an abstract enemy to hand to another one. “Do you believe Holly would be dead if Dashiell wasn’t in the woods that night?”

Grayson holds my look but says nothing.

“We should let Dashiell go,” says Rowan from the kitchen doorway.

I balk at him. “I hope that was not a serious suggestion, Rowan.”

One of those looks travels between Grayson and Rowan. Do the guys honestly think there’s a different solution than me handing Dashiell to Viktor?

“If Dashiell is out in the world, Viktor might find the shifter himself,” suggests Grayson.

“But this is about me! You know that. Viktor wants to see me.”

Grayson crosses his arms. “Yes, Violet, we’re aware of that. Maybe Eloise can help if you don’t want to tell Dorian. You were stupid to take?—”

I snatch Grayson’s jacket the way he did Dashiell’s earlier. “Don’t you dare.”

“Leif and Rowan might avoid upsetting you sometimes, but you need to hear the truth.” Grayson doesn’t shove me away. “If you seriously expect that we’ll let you do this alone, you're wrong.”

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