Page 73 of For Dear Life

Josef attempts to catch me off-guard and pierce my thoughts, and although I slam a barrier against a memory of her dying at the lodge, I bet he doesn’t miss my heart lurching as I desperately dampen down the response to his words. “No, Grayson. He would’ve killed the hybrid before the abomination took its first breath.”

My sharp breath betrays me as the horror of Josef’s news hits me straight in the gut. A distant relative of mine wanted to kill an unborn child? And Josef wonders why our family’s hated by Dorian. I don’t know the full Petrescu history and avoid looking too far into their past deeds. Many don’t believe stories about the Confederacy’s more extreme actions, instead blaming everything on the Dominion’s terrorist work.

I never wanted to admit that the blood of sadistic tyrants runs through me. What really happened to Dorian, and Violet’s other parents before Oskar died?

“I’ve taught you to honor your family name, haven’t I?” he asks lazily, a smug awareness on his face now he’s hit a weak spot.

“By using violence and torture to keep me from attacking people?”

“Yes. Now let the Blackwood kill these interfering witches before Kai comes to harm. Keep your hands and our family name clean.” He nods. “And thus, eliminate the Blackwoods once the world sees them for what they are.”

I brave holding his gaze in challenge, which is never a sensible move. Nor is my next one. “No,” I say.

“Again, that word, Grayson.” He moistens his lips. “You already know I can kill you. I’ve no aversion to making that death permanent if I don’t feel you’re committed to your family name.”

Josef intends to terrify me into obedience. Again. If we’d had this conversation inside the cottage, the memories of my death would be harder to push away. The scent of my blood still lingers in the cellars, and the cottage’s smell of mold and decaying wood would evoke images of the day. But outside, I’ve a freedom that Josef thinks he can steal, and a mind he wants to bend to his will.

“Now. Listen while I tell you exactly what I expect from you,” says Josef. “I can’t alert you to a time and place until the last moment, obviously, since you might pass this information on.” I regard him silently. “Time will be short, and when you encounter the witches, rest assured I’ll be close by to ensure the plan comes to fruition. Let the girl kill. Do not stop her. Subdue her afterwards.”

That’s impossible.

“This is my chance to get to these witches before Dorian. Do not waste the opportunity, or your life, Grayson.”

How fortunate for him that I’m drawn to Violet and her to me. And how unfortunate for him I’m unable to escape how deeply she’s affected me.

Josef knows I’ll walk straight to Violet and inform her what was said here, and that she’ll tell Dorian.

What does the man know?

25

VIOLET

As they’re helping us, Rowan insists we tell Marci and the other witches about our fateful visit to the house. Only Marci agrees to meet at short notice, so I’m forced to join Holly and Marci for coffee with Rowan at my side. We leave Leif out of the meeting after reporting back to him. Again, too many of us together could be noted if there’s someone within the academy involved.

And Grayson? Not back, and the crawling across my skin intensifies each time I think of him with Josef. Unsafe.

I don’t often frequent the academy cafeteria but have been known to join Holly. News already spread—probably due to Holly—about Marci embracing me into the dance committee. I stay tight-lipped rather than make a snarky comment to the still-smug Holly and she reminds me that’s a reason to be with Marci right now. Violet Blackwood and Rowan Willowbrook’s relationship also became of interest, and apparently Violet must always have one of her guys with her for protection.

Ludicrous.

Nita refuses to attend as she’s particularly paranoid about being seen with me, and the meeting’s too short notice for socially in demand Zoe.

The moment we tell Marci our news, I’m vindicated in my protest to Rowan that this meeting wasn’t a great idea. Marci shoves the coffee cup hard across the table and red spots appear on her cheek. I wrinkle my nose at Rowan, somewhat aware of her displeasure as she bounces a look between him and me.

“Why the hell did you go to the house in broad daylight? Couldn’t you wait until the evening?”

I scratch a cheek. “I wanted to speak to the shifters.” To assess their state of body and mind. “For any information they may have. The shifters wouldn’t work at night.”

“And what did they say?” she asks icily.

“Nothing. I decided to leave instead.” I sniff at my coffee before taking a small sip from the tall cup.

“Then what was the bloody point in going?” snaps Marci. “Somebody could’ve seen you.”

“They did. The witch whose cookies Rowan unwisely ate.” Marci’s jaw slackens. “But don’t worry, we wiped her mind. We don’t believe she’s directly connected, either.”

“I never took a bite of the cookie, I accepted one out of politeness,” retorts Rowan.

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