Page 38 of Dance With Death

Viktor had to live. He’s a link in the chain between Dorian and those plotting to usurp him and bring back the old ways. The ones that bide their time, waiting for the right moment to step in. Have Josef and his associates waited too long for Dorian to cause his own downfall, and are now creating their own for him? Or has someone broken ranks?

I’m filled with dread for all of us.

As Leif is resting after Eloise screwed with his mind, Violet met up with Rowan alone this evening. I decided to leave them to their fun—or not-fun for Rowan if she’s in a bossy, investigative mood. She’ll probably drag him wolf-hunting around campus; at least I have an excuse to avoid that.

I spend time in the Sheridan common room, something rare enough that another vamp comments when I sit in the armchair eating. I ignore him, caught up in wondering if the instant ramen noodles became more flavorless, or if I’m denying the hemia shift towards blood as my main diet.

No. Not yet.

I’m making my way along the vacant hallway to my room when an alert sounds on my phone.

Keep away from Violet

I pause and frown at Rowan’s message. I would’ve expected an aggressive message like this a few weeks ago, before all our relationships changed, but not now. Continuing to my room, I type a reply.

why?

The door to my room has barely clicked closed behind me when the reply appears.

We found Holly. Attacked by a shifter. I’m on my way to the hospital with her but Violet left. I don’t know where she went

The bedroom becomes a black hole, sucking air and color away, and something slams into me from the side. I fall, skidding across the carpet and reaching behind myself to stop hitting my head on the wall.

I should’ve picked up Violet’s scent the moment I reached my door, but she’s always with me, and seeing or hearing Violet’s name brings her fragrance from my memories. Violet, who’s here, throws me onto my back as she straddles my hips, pinning me down.

Hybrid Violet.

Not this again.

I stare back into her blackened eyes, preparing to counter Violet’s next move, but she’s taken on the preternatural stillness vampires have when weighing up our next move. I should be bloody thankful she’s weighing up what to do—unless it’s how to inflict the most pain.

Violet’s hybrid transformation isn’t the greatest shock—it’s how Violet’s pure ebony eyes are rimmed with scarlet, and the blood red tears staining her cheeks. Has a new emotion taken hold of this once emotionless hybrid, or are they tears of fury?

Violet leans down, and I wince as her sharp nails dig into my shoulders, through the shirt to my skin. She bares her impressively sharp teeth.

“Rowan told me.” I wave a hand at where my phone landed across the room.

The blood-filled eyes don’t leave mine.

“Do you know what happened?” I continue.

“What happened?” she mimics, and her voice runs a finger of fear along my spine. “What happened is Holly nearly died, and it’s your fault.”

I close my eyes and take a steady breath. “Because I stopped you from killing Viktor?”

“Yes.”

“And how will attacking me change anything, Violet?” I open them again. “You can’t blame me for this chain of events. Otherwise, where do you start? With Dorian for sending you to Thornwood? Mrs. Lorcan for deciding you should room with Holly? Yourself for becoming her friend? The only way Holly would be safe is if she’d never met you.”

My voice rises with every word, and my skin splits beneath Violet’s nails as they dig deeper.

“Violet,” I say calmly. “I’m at full strength. I can fight back. You know that.”

Violet is lost somewhere else, immobilizing and gripping me, silently planning that next move. I stare back at the scarlet continuing to well in her pitch-black eyes. I’ve encountered blood on Violet’s face and skin before, but this is charged with something more. The sweetness of the scent drew me to her from the start, but that’s nothing compared to this. The hybrid-fueled blood pulses in Violet’s veins with an energy that captivates a different part of my mind.

I take a sharp breath. The craving isn’t only the physical ache for Violet’s blood that I deny, but also a hunger for the power that blood contains.

I swallow down the want, on alert to move Violet if her attack starts again. I already could’ve thrown her from me, but I don’t want to fight, because if I do, I’ll lose the control slipping from my mind.

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