Page 43 of For Dear Life

I huff and pull myself from Leif’s attempt to hold me.

“What did you do this time?” a surprisingly brave human guy asks me.

I regard the humans gathered on the sidewalk too, where a girl in a thin shirt beside me rubs her cold arms.

“Nothing. If I were the murderer, I’d hardly commit a crime in a public place.”

“You made a mistake with Wes, didn’t you?” Marci stands nearby, arms folded across her chest. “Why are you killing shifters?”

“You evidently have poor eyesight. Oz is unwell but not deceased.”

“Yet,” she says flatly and steps towards me.

We’re a similar height, but Marci’s not as slim as I am—muscular shoulders and torso, and I imagine a good swimmer with her physique. What’s her surname? I must ask Rowan when I ‘say hi’ for her.

“If you’re concerned I’m killing shifters, then there’s no reason for Holly to stay away from me, since she’s human,” I say calmly. “But I am not, and I’m becoming tired of these attempts to implicate me.”

Was Oz’s state a response to Maxwell’s death or another attempt to frame me? Rowan never mentioned that food or drinks could be poisoned in a bowling alley murder scenario.

Holly stands nearby watching, Chase behind with his arms around her waist. Has Marci convinced Holly I’m somehow involved or has Holly watched me ever since day one?

Marci’s eyes flick to Leif and then back to me before she stares at his chest and laughs softly. “You’re going to need that, Leif.”

The pendant.

Marci turns back to Holly and speaks quietly. Holly’s gaze meets mine, and the fizzy soda in my stomach suddenly burns when she turns away.

I remain totally still, challenging anybody else to speak to me until every one of them moves away. Then I turn and walk back into the building.

There could be clues. Remnants of magic or poison if used.

Leif hurries after me. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, wandering back to the arcade. Yet another male staff member, older and grumbling, already arrived to mop up the mess Oz made on the floor, a yellow sign beside him warning of a slippery surface.

“Uh. Are you okay after more accusations?” he asks in disbelief.

“I’ve had a most enlightening evening, and the fun isn’t over yet.”

Leif’s look is one that’s become familiar amongst the guys—somewhere between confusion and concern.

“I’ll call Rowan and ask him to join us,” I say.

“Join us in what?”

I gesture at the arcade. “I’m not running from the scene of my so-called crime. I shall call Rowan, ask him to meet us, and then we can visit the hospital.”

“The what?” Leif’s eyes go extra wide.

“Tomorrow, we should investigate Marci, her position at the school, and parentage.” I take hold of the pendant that’s warm from resting against his skin. My fingers brush his chest as I do. If I did ever need Leif’s help, he certainly matches my father Ethan for his stone-like solidity—although his skin is surprisingly soft, and he doesn’t have scales like Ethan’s. “Marci knows what this means. Yet she isn’t wearing one and neither were any of her male friends tonight.”

Leif blinks in the direction Marci walked. “This is mad.”

“Show me one of these machines you’re eager to play with,” I tell Leif as I pull out my phone to text Rowan.

“I can’t believe we’re staying here,” he mutters.

“Then should I ask Rowan to meet us at the hospital instead?”

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