Page 109 of For Dear Life

Ever the slippery bastard, my uncle and his mind skills allowed him to worm his way from authorities at the warehouse. All it took was Rowan and Dorian’s distraction when they came to me and Violet. Josef alleged to the detectives that he became aware of Kai’s plans at the last moment and called authorities while also heading to the warehouse to intervene. The first responders’ confusion by the whole scene when they arrived—injuries and deaths; witches and shifters—aided him in avoiding closer questioning.

Nobody has seen Josef since he left the warehouse leaving his mind-washing, bullshit excuses behind.

Despite Dorian’s protest to the humans, my uncle isn’t a suspect because he didn’t have a direct hand in the murders. And as Sawyer’s attorney, Josef has a longstanding relationship with an important council member who’ll vouch for him. I’m still on Josef’s hit list—when he saw me in the warehouse luring Trent away from Rowan and Violet, he struck, furious at my betrayal. How the hell was I to know he’d come to the warehouse too? I didn’t even realize the witches had arrived at that point.

How much was Josef aware of before he walked into that warehouse and saw me battling Trent? Did Josef know Violet was at the warehouse with me and Rowan? Because something doesn’t sit right—someone followed. Somebody knows.

Trent attacked Rowan, not Kai, and turned the witches’ plans upside down. And this time, the shifter’s attack triggered my instincts to ensure Rowan’s safety—to help him and keep Violet from losing her shit.

I got the full story from Rowan a couple of days later—once Josef realized Violet wasn’t on the verge of killing the witches, he ensured one would die, then hedged his bets she’d get the blame. Josef knew time was short, and that authorities would arrive, otherwise he might’ve been more the calculating, the strategic bastard he is.

Again, bigger forces at work. Watching. Waiting.

Well, they failed, whoever the fuck is behind this. Josef never got to the Blackwoods—Violet or Dorian—and the night ended with one of the witches alive and taken into custody.

News also traveled to me from Rowan that Kai filled in the gaps about what happened at the warehouse. After some disagreement between humans, shifters, and supes, Dorian hauled Adam away to extract the actual truth from the witch. Dorian got his confessions about witch manipulation of shifters, but Adam told Dorian nothing about Josef’s involvement with the culprits and their plan to kill Kai.

The necromancy angle remains secret for now—Oz ‘conveniently’ died before witches examined his mind and the humans were happy with the story that the witches mind-controlled shifters. The evidence showed Rory kill Wesley; that was enough for them. Funny how humans will do anything to save face and insist the town’s ‘safe’ rather than appear incompetent. All the humans cared about was solving Wesley’s murder and claimed that Rory’s and Viggo’s deaths are ‘the shifter elders’’ issue.

Sawyer remains allegedly clueless why his son was a target, despite Adam stating Sawyer ‘owed him’ for past services he didn’t pay for, but that nobody else was involved in the plot. Again, Sawyer brushed aside whatever these services were, apparently reassured nobody else is a threat to Kai now the witches are dealt with. Dumb. No wonder the race gets screwed over so much. Still, that suits Dorian, since he wants the humans out of the picture while he tears down whatever’s happening.

I can’t imagine what political shit hit the fan or what this means for the accords between the town, supes, and shifters, but I’m betting that shit pile is building. Violet’s right. Even though Dorian’s failed to get any other names from Adam, there’s someone higher up behind this.

The humans freed Leif once his memories were found to be clear, but he hasn’t returned to the academy. Trent is either AWOL or hidden by shifters—Dorian will need to step in to find him and also investigate how far the necromancy goes. How far this plot against him goes.

What a fucking mess.

As intended.

And guaranteed that Violet will involve herself in more investigations.

Violet.

I ask Rowan about her when I don’t hear anything, worried that she or the guys suspect my involvement. He told me no, but everything seems too big a coincidence to me. Rowan tells me Violet’s spending a lot of time alone and refused to leave Thornwood to join her parents. Violet does eventually reply to a text I send, but only after a week, an unusually normal—but abnormal for Violet—exchange. I ask how she is; Violet replies she’s fine, apologizes, and hopes I’m recovering.

When Rowan tells me she’s thrown herself into helping Holly with the Spring Ball organization, I know she’s not coping.

I spend time recovering at my parents’ place, who’re absent as usual. I’ve healed from death before, so recovering from semi-death’s easier, although perhaps it’s a good thing the human staff worried about the half-starved hemia vampire and left.

I’m away from Thornwood for two weeks, long enough for everybody’s excitement about events to fade. I also tell Violet I’m headed back on the day I return, but she never answers the message, and neither is she sitting at the bottom of the stairs to Sheridan House now, as she was when I returned from Josef.

My teeth grind as I stare at the spot she waited for me that day. Josef genuinely thought Violet would kill me; that my response to hemia blood loss meant I’d attack her and the night would end with my own death. After all, why would a Blackwood allow a Petrescu to live? How could a threatened, hybrid Violet Blackwood overcome her true nature faced with a vampire whose blood she’s obsessed by?

Good question and one Violet needs to answer for me.

Few people register me as I cross campus. I’d expected a different feel to Thornwood now that the human headteacher left, but focus seems to be on the upcoming dance. How easily humans hide themselves in the mundane to pretend that they can live in safety.

I wait close to Darwin House to watch for Holly or Violet. Well, didn’t Violet inform me I’m a stalker once before? Holly hurries out an hour after the classes that I never attended finish, and the light remains on in the room she shares with Violet. I cast a glance upwards, like a crazy Romeo looking for his deranged Juliet. Warring families? We all know how that one ended.

Other humans pass me, leaving the building, and I draw my hood across my face and scoot up the steps. I’m not not allowed in here, but considering my vigilante treatment of Wes’s gang a few weeks ago, striding in, head high, isn’t wise.

My shoulder knocks a poster for the Spring Ball, tearing the paper from the pins, and I take hold. I’ve never attended but I’m going this year. Rowan told me Violet is—if I can’t talk to Violet tonight, she won’t be able to avoid me there.

Light still filters beneath Violet’s door and I cock my head. Silence. My heart lodges in my throat when I pick up her hazy mix of delicate fruits and tangy blood. I barely remember my attempt to take Violet’s blood, but the girl who took up residence in the corner of my mind the day we met now permanently lives there, day and night.

I take a steadying breath. This proves she has me in a chokehold—I’m nervous. Has my blood changed anything for Violet?

As I lift my knuckles to rap on the door, the thing flies open, and I catch a brief glimpse of Violet before she shoots backwards to stand in the center of the room.

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