Page 56 of For Dear Life

“Every time?”

I smooth the skirt of my uniform. “Where are Rowan and Leif? I would’ve thought Dorian might wish to speak to them about events too.”

“About the rabid shifter?” He arches a brow. “The whole academy knows. What happened?”

I lower my voice and give Grayson a staccato report of last night’s events and when I ask where he was, Grayson merely shrugs and tells me ‘nowhere of interest’.

“We’re not waiting here to see Dorian, by the way.” He folds arms across his chest and sinks further into the sofa.

“The headteachers?” I ask.

He scoffs. “Sawyer. Remember, we had a deadline?”

“Ah.” I straighten with interest. “A chance to ask questions.”

“That he’s unlikely to answer.”

I tap the side of my head. “I’ll take a look.”

“Bad idea, Violet. You know that skilled witches can find an imprint of anybody who’s entered another’s head. That’s how people get caught.”

“Perhaps I’m prepared to risk that.”

“Then I wish Rowan was here to stop you.”

“As if he could.”

Grayson shakes his head. “Sawyer must suspect our involvement in events, including Rowan, as everybody knows he’s one of your guys. And possibly Leif, as he was with you last night. I’m glad he’s safe.”

“Leif will always be safe with me.” Grayson arches a brow again and I blink at what I just said. “If I’ve asked Leif to help me, it’s my responsibility to ensure his wellbeing.”

“Then I hope that extends to us all, Violet.”

“Grayson, I don’t believe you’re stable enough to help—” I’m arrested by the door to Mr. Willis’s room opening, especially since the man standing before us isn’t Mr. Willis or Sawyer.

“Hello, Grayson.” The tall man smiles. “And Ms. Blackwood. Do come in.”

“Josef,” he mumbles in a returned greeting.

This wiry man with midnight black hair is a strong member of the Petrescu line—as is Grayson, their faces sharper than many vamps, with their mesmerizing green eyes. When Josef looks into mine, they’re as unreadable as his expression. I hold that gaze until he looks away.

As I continue to look at the vampire, emotions swirl around my chest and stomach. Tangling in peoples’ lives involves mixing with their own complicated relationships, good and bad. I once had none, these days I’m hit by complex links to people left, right and center.

That link to Grayson evokes a worrying response to this creature.

But still, Sawyer and his attorney today. Interesting.

This time Grayson and I are forced to sit opposite Sawyer at the mahogany desk in the borrowed room, whereas Grayson’s uncle stands to his left, seemingly distracted by what’s outside the arched window. We’re on the academy third floor and although he’d easily jump uninjured, I’d still happily shove Josef out.

Grayson’s edginess unfocuses me further, the guy weakened by his uncle’s silent intimidation. Part of me wants this man dealt with for his unjust and violent behavior towards Grayson; I’m determined to implicate him for his as yet unknown connections to everything threatening us. The problem is, the desire to act against Josef is closer to vendetta than detective work, which will not assist.

And how can I ask Sawyer questions with Grayson’s uncle in the room?

Sawyer greets me too, and I return a curt hello, irritated because neither of these men are Dorian.

“Is this about the item we allegedly stole or another matter?” I ask Sawyer.

Kai? Fires?

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