Page 117 of Live To Tell

Instead of attending lessons the next day, I sneak away to the library to look for witch history books, specifically ones pertaining to the Circle. Rowan’s continuing his own research and I sense his growing frustration at the missing ‘Joe’.

As I head back to my room, lost in plans of what I’ll say to Dorian later, I don’t notice Grayson until I’m almost there. He’s leaning against the wall to the left of my door, engrossed in something on his phone screen. Grayson’s in uniform, but without his blazer, and there’re two distinctly different reactions from the two human girls walking by. One edges closer to the opposite wall, the other takes a keen interest in his presence.

“Hi, Grayson,” she says, and he looks up.

Laura, the girl who ‘accidentally’ bled in front of me in class that day, evidently a hemia vampire fan, considering she’s appraising him closely. He doesn’t answer, immediately turning his head as he senses me.

Again, he doesn’t speak, but he’s regarding me in the way he often does. For a guy who claims he doesn’t want my blood, there’s always a craving in that look. I glance at Laura, who also appears interested in our interaction as I approach Grayson. Does he see my warning look not to kiss me?

“What happened?” I ask him, as he touches my hand with the side of his. Yes, he saw the warning look.

“Nothing.”

I stare at Laura long enough that she walks away, then I open the door to my room, and Grayson follows me in.

“You busy?” he asks as I set the books down.

“Always.”

“Want to go out somewhere?”

“Out?”

“Off campus.” He steps forward and runs a hand along my hair.

“Where?”

“Not the graveyard.” He smiles. “Where do you go with Rowan?”

“He once took me to the movies, but I’d rather not repeat that experience. My ears and eyes bled.” He gives me a disbelieving look. “Almost.”

I don’t think he’s listening to me again, and that thought is confirmed when he holds my face and presses his lips to mine with a gentleness I don't expect. I apparently lose my mind when around Grayson since I close a hand around his neck and kiss him back. Grayson growls, and he responds with the expected fierceness, teeth almost colliding. I hear and feel his heart as ours thump in rhythm, matching the way our lives have joined in a way that’s about to cause problems.

“Good afternoon, Violet,” says a clipped male voice.

Like Dorian problems.

Grayson takes several steps back, and I turn to Dorian, who’s loitering in the doorway. Despite the thick, malevolent energy Dorian’s projecting, he’s inscrutable, looking between me and Grayson.

He isn’t pinning Grayson to the floor in a fit of rage as I’d expect, but is blocking Grayson’s exit from the room.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“We’re meeting to discuss developments, aren’t we?” As he says the word developments, his look at Grayson becomes blacker, and I prime myself to intervene in an attack.

“Not until later this afternoon, and not here,” I say. “And please do not cover the room in Grayson’s blood. Holly would be most unimpressed if she finds splatters across her rug.”

Dorian laughs in derision and steps inside; Grayson shuffles slightly further backwards.

“I wanted a chat with Mrs. Lorcan before we met. While in her room, I happened to see Grayson walking towards Darwin House. I thought I’d catch up with him too, as you mentioned he’d had some issues with his uncle.”

“Oh, really?” I ask.

“And to see why he visited your house. I apparently have my answer.” Dorian’s eyes return to mine, dark as the ocean depths, not his glacial blue. “Why was he kissing you?”

“Why do individuals normally kiss?”

Grayson remains rooted to the spot, but his focus is the escape route behind Dorian now that he’s moved.

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