Page 65 of Live To Tell

how’s your evening?

what do you need?

What?

nothing just thinking of you both

aww sweet Violet ??

Good grief. Not the pictures again.

I feel sick

charming

no before your unnecessarily saccharin response I worried you were hurt

I’m fine maybe you’re missing me? Heart sick?

Yes I am having palpitations

when you think of me? ??

Rowan stop being ludicrous is Leif ok?

yes are you? want me to come over?

no continue with your task

?? ??

I do wish he wouldn’t communicate with such inane drawings.

I tuck my phone away. Rowan and Leif are fine, but something’s wrong. My mind goes to Grayson again as I wander from Darwin House towards the academy building, absentmindedly taking a circuit of the cloisters. Nothing in the environment pulls me anywhere and I don’t see or sense him; I must be imagining things. Too much obsessing about ‘cursed’ tiaras and murders.

A cloud passes across the almost full moon, casting shadows across the lit cloisters. Somebody moves within those shadows, and I pull myself taller. Grayson no longer walks the place at night. Since Wesley’s demise, attacks on supes by humans ceased, partly because without Wesley and his immunity to trouble the humans would face reprisals.

And the academy is now under total supernatural control.

A figure wends through the dim, keeping close to the wall, and I’m assaulted by the strange lurching in my stomach again. Maybe somebody is up to no good. I slant my head as I move across the lawns, not bothering to hide myself. I hear nothing apart from light footsteps, but am aware of blood.

Grayson’s blood.

I’m arrested by the scent and, although not as potent as the night in the factory, it’s enough to evoke the choking memory of that blood in my mouth. Surely Grayson knows I’m close by too? So why run from me?

I watch for Grayson to walk into the academy, preparing to follow and talk to him, but instead, he veers past the entrance. My mouth goes dry. Does Grayson have something to hide? He’s continued the nighttime walks, something we advised him against, but I understand his desire to get away from the stifling academy and student distrust.

Grayson was pissed the evening I followed—the stalker complaining about stalking as he confronted me outside the café he visited. I’d watched him drink a soda alone and read a book—I’m unsure if the location or book reading struck me as the weirdest. Why’s he spending time in human haunts?

Is it wrong that I followed because I wanted to reassure myself he isn’t meeting Josef? Or humans for blood? If I’d told Grayson that, he would’ve been more than pissed at me.

As with that night by the cafe, I’m drawn to follow Grayson, feet moving without thinking as I stick to the dim myself. He approaches a building I’ve never once entered nor have any intention of such.

The sports hall.

I draw a firm, thick black line through team participation of any kind, therefore have no requirement to join Holly and Marci, and their netball team. I argued with the academy that my hybrid strength would give me an unfair advantage in any manner of sporting competition. Besides, I would’ve refused to attend, even if they had insisted.

The closer I get to Grayson, the more aware I become that his movements are ‘off’. As usual, he’s walking at a higher speed than humans and witches, but not with his usual tall, straight-shouldered arrogance.

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