Page 53 of For Dear Life

Holly possibly returned to the academy and our room—if she isn’t staying with Marci—so I aim the blood runes spell at the woods near the edge of campus. I don’t want to land in the middle of our room again if Holly’s there because I don’t want questions.

Dorian removed the block on my using blood runes within the academy, but I no longer care that I’m using magic banned in the school. Besides, trouble with faculty about illicit magic is the least of my current worries.

The two guys sit on the ground, as dazed as they were last time, and hold a quiet conversation. I stand close by, kicking at the dirt while I wait. The trees stand guard around us, and Rowan pulls himself up, a hand on a trunk silhouetted against the gloomy night.

“What do we do now?” I ask him.

Both his brows raise. “You’re asking me?”

“Oz. How do we find him?”

“I doubt we could tonight, Violet. We’ve no idea where to start. Tomorrow, we’ll figure this out.”

I grit my teeth. He’s correct.

“You need to tell Dorian before we do anything else,” he adds. “And don’t look like that, you can’t do everything alone. Dorian can look into the witches, and we’ll explore Marci and Holly’s involvement. Look into every professor’s background.”

“Oh. Yes. We can. I could start tonight. Can you get me a full list?”

“Violet. Can this wait until tomorrow? There’re more important issues.” Rowan inclines his head to Leif on the ground. “Can you talk to Leif?” he asks quietly.

“What? Now? Here?” Why hasn’t he moved? “Oh. The memories issue.” Rowan nods. “Very well. Get me the list in the morning.”

Rowan moves a strand of hair from my face, watching how his cool fingers touch my skin, mouth tipping at one corner. “Good grief,” he says. “Is that a sliver of empathy?”

“Leif helps me, I’d like to help him.”

“Uh huh.”

“You can stop touching my hair now.”

Rowan shakes his head and steps back. “You’re hard work, Violet Blackwood.” I scowl when he pokes my nose. “Although I am looking forward to the Spring Ball.”

“You’re going to the Spring Ball?” asks Leif as he looks up.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Rowan and I respond at the same time, then Rowan smirks his smirk and wanders away.

“List!” I shout after him.

“Dorian!” he calls back.

I shift to look down at Leif, who’s in the same position as the day we spoke alone, knees against his chest. “There’s no point in me asking you to the dance, then?” he says, annoyingly amused.

“No. Because I’m not going. I’ve repeatedly told Holly such and I’m not backing down.” I kneel on the damp grass in front of Leif. “What’s the matter? Is there something in your memories you want to discuss?”

Leif falls into silence yet again, and I hear his heart rate speed as the faint breeze carries through the trees. He shivers. “Am I one?” he whispers eventually, eyes to the ground.

“One what? I wish people wouldn’t be so obtuse.”

He looks up. “A necromancer’s... ‘thing’. What if I am and don’t know? Oz doesn’t and Rory didn’t.”

“No, Leif. You are not.”

“How do you know?” he presses.