Page 12 of For Dear Life

“I’ve told you before, all the black you wear washes out your skin. Even a tiny amount of color would help; if you want, I could—”

I huff. Fine. “I lost a lot of blood today.”

Did Holly just edge backwards? “Are you alright?” Her attention switches to Grayson. “Did he take your blood?”

Grayson scoffs quietly.

“No. I died,” I say casually and crouch to pull my trunk from beneath the bed.

“You what?” I cringe at her screech. “Violet!”

The runes on the trunk are intact, and with a careful inspection inside, I locate my anti-bloodlust potion still tucked beneath the spell book. “I died. But good fortune blessed me, and I am, in fact, immortal.”

I snap the lid of the trunk shut and stand. Holly now sits on the edge of the bed, her paleness continuing to compete with the guys’.

“How did you die? What happened?” Her head jerks between each of us.

“I’d rather not discuss that.” She gives me a thin-lipped glare. “Did you visit town tonight?” I ask her.

“Yes.”

“Oh dear. I’m glad you’re uninjured.”

She frowns. “Why? Is the murderer loose again?”

“I believe so.”

“That’s who tried to kill you?”

Hmm. I blow air into my cheeks. What is their phrase? “It’s complicated.”

“I knew I should’ve stayed at Marci’s!” Holly trembles as she gathers her belongings. “I can’t share a room with you if you’re next!”

“Next to what?”

“Next to die, Violet.”

“Did you not listen? I’m immortal.”

She chokes. “I’m not! What if the murderer gets us mixed up and kills me instead?”

“How on earth could that happen?”

“In the dark!”

Good grief, one mention of murder and the girl completely overreacts and loses all rationality. “We look nothing alike, Holly.”

But is there another reason she wants to visit the witches? What if Dorian is correct and there’s something suspicious about my human roommate? I should watch her more carefully.

“How can you casually stand in this room when you died today, Violet?” she asks hoarsely, turning from her packing.

“Because I’m not dead anymore?”

“This is too much.” She hauls the bag onto her shoulder.

“Don’t tell anybody,” I say.

“About what? The death, your ‘it’s complicated’ investigations, or that you’ve three guys in our room?”

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