Page 27 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“I’m… I’m a human, Professor.”
He doesn’t even flinch. “I know.”
My lips part in surprise. “You know?”
“You’re a friend of Margaux,” he says. “You may not have known me, but believe me… I kneweverythingabout you and your family. Margaux’s safety has always been my number one priority. I was never going to buy your story—unless you were attacked by a werecat in the last few months.”
“Oh.”
“I’m won’t tell anyone,” he says. “I’m impressed you managed to get accepted, and without looking into your background. We must have your transcripts to thank for that.”
“My transcriptsarethe most impressive thing about me.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” He moves to his desk, leaning against it, crossing his arms. “Why are you here, Tobey?”
“Hereas in…?” I’m biding time, not particularly keen on answering the question. He knows too much, and I’ve already confirmedwaymore than I should.
“Strode University,” he says. “You could have a stellar education anywhere. Why are you here? You know the dangers, and you know you’re not our usual type of student. So… why?”
I scratch my cheek. “I want to make sure they catch the murderer,” I say. “I know it’s silly, but?—”
“It’s not,” he says. “You lost your friend, and it may seem as though the murder is connected.”
“The murderisconnected.” My jaw tightens. “Don’t tell me you think otherwise.”
“I’m not opposed to the idea,” he says.
That isn’t enough. It’s not an idea. At this point, it’s afact. The murders on the Strode campus are a pattern, and Poppy diedright outside.
I press my lips together, suppressing my words.
“But it’s not safe for you to investigate on your own… or at all,” he says. “You’re not a professional. You could do more harm than good to the case. I can’t let you continue without saying something.”
My stomach sinks. I shouldn’t have told him anything. This is what I get for trusting someone at Strode.
“I understand. I’ll stay away from the case.”
“I’ll keep your secret—for now—but you must promise to be safe. If you happen to find anything, report it to me. Don’t go after it yourself.”
Great. I have to lie to the face of a three-hundred-year-old vampire.
“I will.” My voice is still shaking.
The watch in my pocket feels heavier. Professor Cruz doesn’t know that I already found something—and there’s no way in hell I’m giving it up now.
Chapter Seven
This creepy school is making me paranoid. I can’t leave my dormitory without feeling like someone is watching me. It’s a prickling sensation, the kind that sneaks up the back of your neck.
A few days have passed since the body was found, and everyone has forgotten—everyone except me and Margaux. I won’t let her forget, even if I suspect she wants to dig her head in the sand like everyone else.
It’s broad daylight. I shouldn’t feel this familiar feeling, the fight or flight reflex, but this hellish campus offers no peace.
I glance around the courtyard with a sweeping gaze, casual as I step over the dirt path. It’s a perfectly normal afternoon. My classes are over, and I have the rest of the evening to figure out the stupid watch.
As far as I can see, it’s useless. I’ve done everything to try and reveal its secrets, but… it may be just a watch, after all. I should return it to its owner, but something makes me hang onto it. It’s that same intuitive feeling, the one I can’t explain—the one that makes me feel like someone is watching.
As if reading my mind, Caldwell appears, falling into step as if he had been there all along. Vampires and their ridiculous, unnecessary speed.
