Page 15 of Dance With Death

But is Josef right? Was Dorian’s rise to power orchestrated by others who would bide their time and reclaim the world for their brand of government? A return to the old Confederacy ways would lead to an unwanted war between supes. Dorian needs to use his well-known methods to eradicate these people and stabilize the world.

And I can help.

Although tempted to scour campus for stray wolf shifters last night, I instead listened our for any commotion outside Darwin House while working on my notes. All remained quiet beneath my window, so I had nothing to investigate. I took Leif’s advice and rested, and my mind is much sharper returning to my task this morning. Tonight shall be shifter hunting night.

Each time I examine my latest Wall of Clues, I half-expect Holly to walk into the room and comment on both the mess I’m making and my theories. How ironic and frustrating that the one person I need to help with this investigation through her human connections is the victim in the case.

I tap my lips as I look over the taped paper sections outlining each suspect and motives.

Viktor. Obviously. Whereabouts to be located asap. Connections to others difficult for Dorian’s council to investigate as he ‘doesn’t exist’. High probability he will harm Holly. Most important suspect. Search his known addresses asap.

Marci. Mysterious project definitely not linked to the Spring Ball. Annoyed that Holly backed out but also (genuinely?) worried about her whereabouts. Discover her activities, look further into her academy connections, especially the coven (and her mind if Rowan isn’t around to stop me).

Cornelius Whitegrove/the Circle — must now be aware that we’re searching for Viktor. Possibly aware we’ve found him. It’s also possible that Viktor reached out to the Circle for protection again. Plan: infiltrate their next gathering. Dorian can assist as Rowan won’t want to. Do not mention Rowan’s invite to the Circle again. Ever.

Josef Petrescu. Seems less likely as he prefers to trifle with myself or Dorian directly and maintains his closeness to Sawyer. Harming a human would threaten that relationship.

Someone within the academy that isn’t Marci. Mrs. Eldridge and her recent threats to Rowan seem significant or was that pertinent to the tiara issue? (I’m annoyed that I need to drop that investigation temporarily but not as annoyed as Mr. Woodside) Another professor? Students? Which house?

I squeeze my eyes closed. How much time do I have before something serious befalls Holly? The strange stomach flipping happens again: if it hasn’t already.

I reluctantly accept the human hysteria and add another:

6. Unknown shifter invading campus. Connection not established.

My new Instagram profile yielded nothing overnight apart from suggestions that I follow people. As if I’ll ever be a follower in life. My profile remains strictly locked down, and Rowan polices interactions. He selected not_sweet_violet as my user name and added an image of violet flowers as my profile picture, and then informed me I could change both if I wanted to.

Rowan knows perfectly well that I have no idea how to do such. The guy and his smirk sail close to the wind sometimes, yet he complains when he hits a hurricane of unimpressed girlfriend.

Girlfriend. The word still doesn’t settle well in my mind. But what else am I to these guys based on the social norms that others apply to us?

While waiting for more communication from the fake Holly, I must focus on the academy and trust that Dorian’s own investigations lead to Viktor.

Right now, there’s somebody who needs me more.

I stalk through the Darwin’s hallways towards the part that houses the male human students, ensuring I’m harder faced than usual, and travel at a speed that stops any human intercepting me. There’s an odd odor in this area compared to the one containing the female students’ rooms. I’m half-tempted to hold my arm over my face to staunch the smell but expect someone would interpret that as a vampire avoiding temptation from the human blood scent. No. This potent mix of body sprays and colognes barely masks the extreme masculine, sweaty smell.

I eye a pair of shoes outside one closed door and retch. Worse than the bowling alley. No wonder the owner left them outside—or the owner’s roommate banished the footwear from their shared space.

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