Page 5 of For Dear Life

“Violet, sweetheart,” says Eloise gently. “What happened? Why are you here? Like your father said, Zeke told us you died.” Her voice hitches. “But he didn’t say anything else.”

Hmm. Now this is the tricky part, especially considering the intensity that’s still rolling from Dorian.

“I told Zeke we’d meet and talk together. I needed to shower.”

“Violet...” she warns. “Don’t be evasive.”

“I’d rather discuss everything with my acquaintances present. We’re all involved,” I reply, pulling the brush through my hair.

“Are these the guys you mentioned last time we spoke?” she asks cautiously. I nod. “Including the vampire?”

“I honestly think this conversation is best held with all present.” I give a tight smile and her eyes widen. She knows Grayson’s here. “And I would like a guarantee for every guy’s safety, Dorian.”

He crosses his arms and pushes his tongue against his top teeth. “Did these boys contribute in any way to your death?”

“My death isn’t the one that I’m worried about.” I place the brush on my dresser. “Are my friends still downstairs?”

Friends?

Well, realistically this event has moved us out of the acquaintances category.

* * *

I’m happy to find that the guys remain physically intact and alone, although each now has a fresh, buttoned shirt, as Zeke promised. What have they spoken about while waiting, or have the three remained in their silent shock at the day’s events?

When I walk into the room with Dorian and Eloise at my heels, Leif and Rowan immediately stand from their new position on the sofa. Grayson remains by the window. Is he considering climbing out if things become unpleasant?

Because there’s no way he’ll escape from Dorian discovering who he is today.

The only positive thing about Dorian’s initial response is he doesn’t ask for anybody’s surname. He gives each of them a skeptical and disgruntled look, and even my scalp prickles when his eyes remain on Grayson a few moments longer than the others.

Eloise doesn’t need surnames following our mother-daughter chat the other day, and her wide-eyed response to Grayson is followed by a horrified look to me. Yes, Mother. The Petrescu.

“Why is that kid wearing my shirt?” he says, face pissed as he jabs a finger at Grayson’s black clothing.

“They needed clean clothes,” I explain. “I asked Zeke to find some.”

“I grabbed what was in the laundry,” Zeke replies.

Silence.

“Did you expect the three to sit in here covered in my blood?” I ask and he snaps a look to me. “From when they helped me, Dorian.”

Dorian glares as if Grayson took something precious from him, not a random clothing item. “You’re lucky I’m in a reasonable mood or I’d make you remove that. Now.”

“Good grief, Dorian,” I say as Grayson mumbles an apology. “I thought you wanted to talk, not posture?”

Dorian demands we all sit while he stands opposite, Eloise touching his arm in an attempt to calm him. I do as he says, the four of us squashing together on the squeaking leather sofa.

Rowan’s finding it difficult to stay away from me at all and his shoulder presses against mine, closer than Leif on the other side. Rowan asks if I’m okay and attempts to take my hand, but this time I only allow him to touch me for a few moments. Any signs of closeness to one of these guys could result in a worse response from Dorian than Zeke’s earlier.

“Isn’t Ethan joining us?” I ask.

“He’s on his way, but may not be here until the morning,” says Dorian in a clipped voice.

“Not ‘collecting’ him?” I ask and point at his healing palm from using his own blood spell for a speedy arrival.

“I am not leaving this house again until I one, know the full story and two, am certain you’re safe.” Dorian jerks his chin. “Explain what caused you to bring three strangers with you to my house. Nobody comes in here without my permission.” I open my mouth. “Everything. Short and to the point.”

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