Page 46 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

“Nothing, nothing.” She shakes her head. “I just—if Rook finds out, it’s going to be impossible to walk him back from the edge. I can’t handle losing him again.”

“Sage, you won’t lose him. He’d never leave you, even if you wanted him to.”

There is no way Rook Van Doren leaves Sage Donahue. It’s physically impossible in every universe.

“I will if he finds out. He won’t let it go—it’ll eat at him until he does something careless like kill him. I won’t let him go to prison over Easton, over me. I can’t.”

I rub her shoulder, trying to soothe the fear in her voice.

“I’ll keep you out of it, I promise.”

She nods in thanks, putting an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into a short hug. Together, the three of us walk down to the front of the class, avoiding the group of girls talking to the detectives still in the room.

We are almost out the door when I feel fingers curling around my upper arm.

“Lyra.”

I turn, looking at Conner. He readjusts his glasses, giving me a grin. The conversation of his warning me away from Thatcher had left a sour taste in my mouth, but he’s still my friend.

He’d still been there during the summer, and I know deep down he was only trying to do what he thinks is right. I can’t say if I was in his position that I would do any different.

I’m just a little more…apprehensive of him now. He’s too close to Stephen, and while I don’t want to believe he’s involved, all signs point to him being right in the middle of this mess.

“What’s up?” I ask, giving a closed-mouth smile.

“I wanted to see you in my office. Do you ladies mind if I steal her away for a second?”

Briar and Sage stare at him passively, nothing warm or welcoming on either of their faces, before they look at me.

I know that look. It’s the“Are you cool going with this fucking creep, or do we need to bail you out”look.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you in the library after.”

I know whatever Conner wants to talk about isn’t as important as catching Rook and Alistair up to speed, but at the very least, I may be able to get more information out of him. Plus, we haven’t talked in a while. It might be nice to catch up.

“Text us if you need anything,” Briar reassures before glaring at Conner one more time and following Sage out of the room.

“Shall we go?” he offers, and I nod.

I follow him down the hall, the brief distance to his office. Godfrey swings the door wide, holding it open so that I can pass through.

My shoulder rubs his chest as I pass. It brings forth the memory of Thatcher reminding me of what would happen if Conner came close to me again. I make a mental note to keep the distance between us.

While I don’t believe Thatch is an unfeeling psychopath, I know he wasn’t bluffing. If he says something, he means it, and we need to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed.

When we are both inside, I take it upon myself to inspect the rows of books along the built-in shelves lining his walls. Most of them are academic studies, but there are a few gems nestled in the scholarly material.

Everything is a deep mahogany color, from the heavy wooden desk to the leather couch. A chess set is tucked efficiently against the two windows to my right, and a brown world globe rests just next to it. It’s bold, rich, and puts on an accurate display of Conner’s personality.

“Voltaire?” I trace my finger along the framed picture on the wall of the famous philosopher. “I pegged you as a Socrates kinda guy.”

“Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do,” he says from somewhere behind me. “My father read me Voltaire as a child.”

I smirk, turning around. “Did he run out of Dr. Seuss?”

“Very funny, Miss Abbott.” He grins, shaking his head a bit before leaning against his desk and crossing his arms in front of him. “Are you a philosophy lover?”

“I prefer poets, if I’m honest.”

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