Page 5 of Dance With Death

Sensing Rowan’s increased frustration, I step away from him. We’re both primed to argue, and I’m struggling to hold my temper as it is. “What are you doing, Grayson?”

“We should check if Holly hid anything magical again.” He shakes the pig. “Like inside these.”

“Check every, single one of her porcine collection?” He nods. “Including all her figurines?”

“And her closet.” He fights a smile. “Together?”

“Holly removed the runes and magical items we discovered that day and explained they were Marci’s idea because the witch was suspicious of me. I haven’t sensed any magic around the room.” Hmm. “Although I did once consider that her love, and overzealous use, of strong perfumes could be an attempt to interfere with my senses.”

“Still, we should check out the closet again.” Grayson’s eyes continue to glint at the memory of our failed romantic moment amongst Holly’s clothes hangers.

“Perhaps Leif could help me? Confined spaces give you panic attacks, Grayson,” I say curtly.

“You’re claustrophobic?” asks Leif.

Grayson chuckles and turns away to examine Holly’s shelves for any unusual items. Granted, she possesses a lot of odd items, one of which Grayson picks up. “How the hell do you make a pig figurine from shells? And why would someone?”

“A mystery of the human condition,” I reply.

“I got in!” Rowan’s triumphant exclamation interrupts us, and he taps the laptop screen. “ChaseHavenxoxo”

“Ugh,” I mutter. “Show me what you found.”

"I haven't looked through anything on here yet," he says. "I’m picturing how pissed Holly would be if she knew I’d invaded her privacy."

"And saved her life?" I ask.

Rowan drops into silence. Yes, I deny this could be an outcome, and lashed out when Grayson almost suggested the possibility, but with no contact from either Holly or her abductor, the sickening possibility weighs me down.

I’m aware of statistics: after three days, only a low percentage of missing people are found. We’ve already lost almost one day, and those human statistics do not include any magical interference, which could create a shorter window of time.

I look over Rowan’s shoulder at the screen he’s opened. Instagram. Holly’s profile picture is one taken at the Spring Ball, and I glance down the feed. Many, many pictures of her and Chase.

"There're no posts since the dance," he says. "Maybe take a look through Holly’s messages?"

"For what?"

He shrugs. "In case there's something about Holly and her life that we don't know about."

I look at him sharply. "Dorian looked into her life and family. As did you."

"Yeah, he investigated their supe connections, but not so much human ones. Besides, Madison kept secrets from her friends. Plenty of people do."

Frowning, I take the laptop and click over to Holly's messages.

I'm immediately nauseated by her exchanges with Chase, but also pissed on Holly's behalf that he never inquired about her health after he passed me and Marci this morning.

A lot of messages involve banal chats between Holly and random human girls, arranging times to meet off campus or discussing academy gossip. There're a couple of group chats too—one for a History project, and another for the ill-fated spring ball committee.

"Did the committee girls exclude you from the group?" he asks.

"You know I resisted involvement as much as I could. Inserting myself in a chat would’ve been both pointless and led to the risk of Marci assigning me more banal organizational tasks. Besides, I do not possess this Instagram."

"No." He points. "Like, deliberately by creating a chat you can’t see. Didn't you say the girls behaved like a coven?"

"Secretive and with a meeting place beneath Pendle House, yes, but Holly can't join a coven. Her human energy would weaken any magic performed in the vicinity." I read the most recent message exchange in the ‘Spring Ball Org’ chat. Wait. “The last message between the dance committee members is dated four days ago. Why are they still discussing the dance now the fateful event has passed?"

Marci You didn’t come to the meeting again.

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