Page 15 of Dig Your Grave

And that smirk.It was him.The bad guy.

My stomach did a complicated somersault the moment I recognized his silhouette.I tried to breathe steadily, but a traitorous part of me tingled with raw anticipation.

“Come down, girl,” I whispered to my coochie.

He wore a black button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, his forearms flexing as he beckoned me closer.No flashy logos or illusions to wealth.There was something subdued about him tonight.The regal way he stood, the cut of his shirt, and the quiet storm in his eyes reminded me that, however rebellious he acted, he was still an Edenvane in name and blood.

“Glad you finally came,” he said softly.

There was no mocking lilt in his voice.If anything, he sounded almost relieved.

I cleared my throat, struggling to swallow a sudden dryness.“You left a note.After everything that happened…”

His expression flickered.We never specifically said anything about the grave, but it hung between us, anyway.“Let’s go somewhere else,” he murmured, nodding toward a hallway.“We can talk privately.”

Private.The word set off alarms in my brain.For so long, I’d wavered between suspicion of him and an undeniable attraction.But I remembered the grave and the night after.And the vow I made shortly after to myself to keep my distance, for the sake of my own sanity.

Still, I followed him.Maybe because he was the only one who seemed to acknowledge I wasn’t okay.Or maybe because some hidden part of me had longed to see him again, even if it was dangerously foolish.

He led me into a smaller side room I recognized from before.A lounge with walls lined by rowers’ trophies, antique rowing paddles, and black-and-white photographs of centuries’ worth of Edenvane champions.Thick curtains shielded the windows, and the only light source was a standing lamp with a tinted glass shade that made everything appear tinted a smoky amber.

He gestured for me to sit on a leather couch.I did, tucking my hands between my knees.I felt as if I were facing a teacher’s scolding, not entirely sure where his head was at.After all, the fact didn’t escape me.We weren’t having this private conversation in his bedroom.

Anubis pulled out a chair from the corner and sat across from me, leaning forward, arms braced on his knees.A faint bruise darkened his cheekbone.If I squinted, I could see hints of older bruises around his knuckles.My mind flicked to a rumor I’d heard from the Rowing team, he’d been in a recent brawl, presumably about some House rivalry or intramural scuffle.Or maybe something more sinister for all I knew.

He watched me with an intensity that made me squirm.

“I’m sorry,” he began, voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.“For your roommate.I know you and Toccara weren’t exactly best friends, but…”

I folded my arms, feeling old frustration bubble up.“She was in my dorm, Anubis.We might’ve fought sometimes, but we were building something like a friendship.She was my only friend here.And she’s gone.The official story is…you know.”I swallowed, a mass of grief lodging in my throat.“But it doesn’t add up.”

His gaze flitted away.“I know,” he said, tone loaded with meaning.“And if I could give you the answers you want, I would.”

“Then give me something.”The plea escaped me.“You know I know about the Skulls.”

“Your biggest mistake.Other than keeping me waiting for an entire week.”

I ignored the fact, I didn’t meet him after our time together and focused on the later.“The Howler’s editor basically demanded I investigate them if I want to stay on staff.He thinks Edenvane’s… rotten in ways that connect to Toccara’s death and others.”

A flicker of wariness crossed his face.“You’ve been reading the lore?”

I nodded.“In the archives, yes.But they only go so far, and everything after 1900 is basically redacted.All the rumors I’ve heard around campus are contradictory.I can’t tell what’s truth and what’s ghost stories.”I paused, meeting his gaze.“But I suspect you know more than you admit.”

He exhaled, raking a hand through his hair.A tension carved the lines of his shoulders.“I do.But telling you outright…it isn’t that simple, Suede.”

I grimaced at the mention of my real name.Part of me was always waiting for him to call me Nubia.Did I hate it, or did I want to accept it?I couldn’t tell anymore.I fidgeted, weighing my next words carefully.

“Why invite me here, then?”I asked, my voice edged with mistrust.“To keep lying to me?”

He pressed his mouth into a tight line.For a moment, I thought he’d retort with some clever barb, but he sighed instead.“No.I’m… I’ve given you space to grieve.I want you to stay close, because you’ve been caught in the crossfire.”

“According to you, if any of what happened was real, you put me in this situation.”

“No.Forces in this place, my family’s legacy, are at play, and you keep getting singled out.I’m trying to protect you.”

I might have laughed if his tone wasn’t so bitter.“Protect me?”I repeated.“Half the time, you’re the one messing with my life.The hair fiasco.That ridiculous party.Getting me strikes with the Dean.Then you vanish without warning.”

He winced.“Those were attempts to get you out of this place, because I thought if you left, you’d be free.But everything changed after Toccara died.A—” He glanced down, maybe catching himself before saying a name.“Someone else made it clear that your presence is…non-negotiable now.Because of the scholarship.Because you’re digging into secrets.You’re in deeper than you know, Suede.”

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