Page 14 of Dead and Gone

"How long until the shadows leave you?" Leif asks Rowan.

Rowan shrugs. "Half an hour?"

Grayson rises, too, and pushes a long strand of hair from his face. "Ugh. No thanks. I've better things to do."

"Want me to stay?" Leif asks us.

Grayson snorts at him. "Um. I don't think they do."

"What are you intimating?" I retort.

"Intimacy."

I sigh at his arched brow. "Leif. Can you take the box?"

"What?" He straightens. "A stolen item in my room?"

"We will return the box to the museum tomorrow, as you suggested."

"Yeah, without thegems," he mutters. "When?"

"I shall consider this further," I reply, keeping one eye on Rowan. He seems okay, but the dark edge isn't leaving him. "And I'll have a decision for us by the morning."

Grayson snorts. "Instructions for your assistants?"

I blink at him. "Yes. Nobody else has the mental capacity to plan things in a meticulous and efficient way."

"I could take offense at that."

"If you were offended by things Violet says to you, you'd never spend time around her, Grayson," says Leif with a smile. "Comes with the territory."

"Can we not discuss my social skills or lack thereof? You're aware I'm working on my predisposition to offending people, but I will not let go of my belief in always telling the truth." I look to Grayson. "However uncomfortable."

"Come on, Leif," says Grayson. "We'd better leave before Violet chooses some truths that sting harder than calling us stupid."

"I did not call you stupid, Grayson, I merely reminded you that your intelligence is subpar in comparison to mine." Rowan chokes a laugh. "Not stupid, just inferior. However, I do care for you and appreciate your help, and enjoy our time together.”

"Oh, man." Grayson wipes a hand across his head. "You're hilarious." He kisses my forehead and opens the door.

Leif stands, places a palm on my cheek, and whispers, "Is he safe?"

"Rowan? He's fine."

"But keep an eye on him," he whispers again.

"If you wish, but the small manifestation of shadow shouldn't linger long." I smile. "Don't worry about me."

Leif turns his hand to run his fingers along my cheek. "I always do and always will, even though you don't need protecting."

I curl my fingers around his. “Thank you for caring. I hope you know that I’ll always worry about and protectyoudue to my great affection.”

He smiles. “Then we have a deal.”

“And we both know you I’m the one most suitable to protecting people,” I add.

If anybody saw us side by side and knew nothing about me, they'd argue that the slim, delicate girl could benefit from a half-shifter's protection. Leif's bulkier and more imposing than any other guy at school and, frankly, looks ridiculous in a uniform. But he's the gentlest, kindest person I've met. I've recently concluded he's also one of the most tolerant because I, as I'm often reminded, share none of those attributes.

But I do care deeply about Leif, an impossible feat for Violet Blackwood, who walked into the academy that first day. The girl, surrounded by her cluelessness and (usually) accidental rudeness, had no desire for anybody or anything apart from leaving.

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