Page 90 of For Dear Life

“You’re that girl,” growls the elder behind me.

Raising my eyes to the ceiling for a moment, I pivot to face the angry man. “‘That girl’?”

“The Blackwood girl. Your fucking father interferes in our business too.”

“Dorian? He keeps out of shifter business.” The man’s eyes almost disappear behind his heavy scowl. “Oh! Ethan. Apologies, I’m so accustomed to Dorian as the one bad-mouthed, I sometimes forget my other fathers aren’t popular in some circles.”

Deep-set, hazel-brown eyes flicker with a wildness that points at his bear heritage, a silent warning to me that he’s not one to be trifled with. The elder slants his head. “You’re involved in all this. What did you do to Oz?”

“Good grief!” My voice rises. “The single-mindedness of everybody in this vicinity astounds me. I am trying to help. Ask that detective—he knows I’m conducting my own investigations.” I wave a hand. “I have a question for you. Where is Rory’s body?”

“Violet,” whispers Rowan in horror.

“Burned. As is our way,” the elder says.

“Wrong.”

“Violet!” urges Rowan again.

“What did the witches do with the body?” I tip my head far back in order to look into the mountainous man’s amber eyes. “Witches have screwed with shifters, and lives are in danger, and you are simply too thick-headed to realize this.”

“Your life is in danger if you keep speaking to me like this,” he growls.

“Oh, no. Despite this loud threat witnessed by the people gathered, any attempt to kill me would fail.”

Rowan’s now holding my arm in both hands, attempting to pull me away, but I dig the heels of my heavy boots into the tiles.

“Mark my words, Oz will die next.” I step back and address the detective. “And then Kai.”

“Omigod, Violet!” I stumble as Rowan yanks me hard, catching me off guard. He shoves open the door and drags me outside into the cooling afternoon. “What the hell did you say that for?”

“Because it’s true. Unless the humans investigating the murders... what’s your phrase? Get their heads out of their asses, we really will have a serial killer on our hands.”

Rowan locks his hands behind his head, elbows at right angles, his face whiter than the moment I told him about Leif. “And you just gave the detectives Violet Blackwood’s kill list.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t mean me.”

Rowan shakes his head, face losing more color. Oh. “We’re definitely running out of time now your big mouth landed you back on the suspect list.”

I snort. “The humans have no clue what they’re doing. Neither do the shifters. Witches hold of all the cards and are smugly playing their hand. However, nobody beats me at games.”

“In this case, they might,” Rowan glances back at the station. “I’m bloody terrified for Leif.”

“Leif has his talisman. The detectives won’t allow the shifters to take Oz, or Leif—the woman on the desk just hit a panic button.”

“Yes, but—”

I pause. “Yes, but, I’ll free Leif tonight. Problem solved.” For some reason, Rowan doesn’t respond, nor does he appear to listen to my plans as we reluctantly walk away.

31

VIOLET

Rowan’s as taciturn as Leif often is on our journey back to the academy. Understandably, as Leif’s incarceration is a concerning development, yet one we can deal with. But even as we walk into the academy grounds, Rowan doesn’t speak, and I give up on sharing my plans about what we do next. He’s hunched over, hands in pockets with an air of the old Rowan with his self-absorbed barrier between us.

“Right. Let’s discuss our plans. Holly’s coming back to the academy once she leaves the mall. She’ll ask too many questions that’ll interfere with my thinking, so we can choose between your room or the library,” I announce.

“We’re not breaking Leif out of his cell, Violet,” Rowan says evenly. “If we get caught, that’s a crap load of trouble neither of us need.”

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