Page 39 of Live To Tell

“I do hope nobody dies tonight,” I comment as I take note of the large number of vehicles in the hotel car park.

A girl seated in front glances over her shoulder and Leif nudges me. “Not the best comment, Violet.”

“I'm merely stating that this event could draw attention from someone with malevolent intent,” I continue.

“I'm sure Dorian will keep everybody safe,” suggests Holly.

“Yes. Therefore, I hope nobody dies tonight.”

Someone flicks the back of my neck, and I turn to where Rowan sits behind. He shakes his head at me but says nothing.

We're deposited directly outside the hotel lobby, and I stand back as the excited students rush forward. Holly yanks at my baggy black cardigan sleeve as she passes. “This spoils the effect, Violet.”

“Perhaps I'm cold.”

“You don't get cold,” she bats back. “Why cover up such a pretty dress with a shapeless cardigan that reaches your knees?”

“Because the cardigan has pockets.” I pat one where I’ve secured my phone.

“You do look kind of odd,” comments Leif.

I tip my head back to look up at him. He's wearing slacks of a nondescript beige color and a slate blue shirt and gray tie. His black shoes shine, whereas Rowan chose sneakers despite his black pants and navy shirt—no tie.

“Then I shall meet expectations,” I tell him before glancing back to the empty bus. “Where's Grayson?”

“Here.”

Holly squeaks as he steps from the dim beside her, and Chase sneers. “Sneaking already, Gray?” he asks.

“He's hemia. They're quiet and barely detectable in the dark,” I tell Chase.

“Yeah. As I said, sneaking.” He nods at the vampire. “There's a dress code, mate. Where's your fancy shirt and tie?”

“I don't possess one and don't particularly care if I'm refused entry,” he replies and slips hands into the back of his black jeans.

“You do. You wore one to the Spring Ball,” says Chase.

Holly goes completely stiff and looks away. Those two words have become offensive around her and I'm struggling to understand why the continued upset over a minor social occasion. Rowan attempted to explain the amount of time—and herself—Holly put into organizing the occasion, but the continued sullenness seems like an excessive response to me.

Grayson shrugs and a passing girl comments, “Grayson's formal shirt probably got covered in blood at the Darwin house party.”

“For fuck's sake,” mutters Grayson. “I wasn't involved.”

“As if anybody believes that,” she says and turns.

The girl and her inane comments suddenly piques my interest. This is Cassie—the hysterical girl from the dance, now standing beside the other hysterical girl who started the ‘haunted tiara’ rumor. Beth?

“How is Sienna?” I ask. “Is she returning to the academy?”

“Not for the rest of term,” Cassie replies, amusingly looking down her nose at me. “Who knows what a bitchy witch might do to her next?”

“At the risk of repeating myself, I have no ill will towards Sienna. We've barely interacted.”

Beth scoffs. “Sure. You know what she did.”

“Stole my tiara.”

“No. What she did to upset you.” Beth’s eyes shine, plump pink lips pursed.

---