Page 49 of Live To Tell

“Rowan’s dangerous. So is she. That’s all I mean.” Marci drains her glass and hands it to me. “I’ll have another.”

Wow. “You sure?”

“Like I said, free champagne.”

As I locate and pass Marci another glass, I attempt to tune out of her presence, uncomfortable by both the conversation and her proximity. The witch blood temptation isn’t what worries me—I don’t want the flashbacks to Josef’s ‘treatment’ should my senses home in on her. I’m not attracted to the girl, but she’s a witch and the race’s blood scent naturally affects me.

“Where are your friends?” I ask pointedly when Marci doesn’t move.

“Dancing in the Sterling Room.” Her lips press together. “Tonight reminds me of the Spring Ball apart from this event’s actually happening.” She gulps the wine. “I failed an assignment because I put too much time into organizing the dance. Now my parents are pissed and I’ve nothing to show for all that work I put in.”

“Right.” I rub the back of my neck. Marci never speaks to me, especially not since the incident where I put a witch girl in the hospital, and now she’s burbling shit I have no interest in. “Uh. I’m sure you’ll catch up with your grades.”

“And did you know the asshole cheated on me?” she continues. “At the Spring Ball. With a vamp.”

The asshole? Oh. That human she dates. I’d hoped Jon might appear and take Marci away but that’s now unlikely. Crap. Where are her friends? Any of them? I saw Holly earlier, but she’s with her asshole.

“Jon thinks I don’t know, but I know. Nothing gets past me.” This time, Marci swaps her empty glass for a full one without my assistance.

“I hope you dumped the guy,” I say and edge to the side as she presses against me while reaching for the glass.

Her lips curve into a smile. “Humans shouldn’t screw with witches.”

“What have you done?” I ask sharply.

“Nothing.” Marci’s smile grows. “Yet.”

I pull myself tall and look down at her. “Nothing Violet can be accused of doing,” I warn.

“Violet’s untouchable. But then you know that don’t you?” She snickers. “Is she the first witch who didn’t fall for your hemia seduction?”

Irritation flares. “How many glasses of wine have you had? Because you need to stop before you start saying shit that’ll upset people.”

Eyes firmly fixed on mine; Marci drinks the whole glass in several gulps then slams the glass down. “Six.”

“Right. We need to find your friends. I’m not dealing with this,” I say.

I know where girls hang out or at least go to eventually. Bathrooms. “Come on. We’ll find your friends and then I can find mine.”

I stride across the carpet, glancing back over my shoulder to ensure Marci’s following. She is. Unsteadily. Why did she accost me? Yeah, we’ve the Holly connection now since I’m in Violet’s detective gang, but I am not the right guy to whine at with her girlie bullshit.

I reach the double doors and glance left and right. Which way to the bathrooms? With any luck, some of Marci’s friends will be in the hallway outside. I swear beneath my breath—I’m advised not to go near witches; chaperoning drunk ones isn’t sensible.

“This way,” she says.

Marci trips over an imaginary bump on the carpet and grabs my upper arm to steady herself. A slow feeling of dread slithers in but Marci drops her grip once she’s fully upright.

I slow my pace and hang back, watching Marci as she walks ahead along the hallway. With any luck, nobody will think we’re together. But where the hell is she going?

“Marci!” I hiss as she disappears around a corner. No reply. I groan and follow.

The hallway ends at the rear of the hotel. Through the long windows, security lights show tables set up for outdoor dining on a wide patio, set ready for tomorrow’s breakfast guests but now used by partygoers. Marci pushes open one of the glass doors and chatter filters back through towards me.

“Marci!” a girl calls out.

Good. Friends of hers.

Someone seizes me around the back of the neck and forcibly shoves me out of sight into a side room. My face almost hits the wall as a familiar presence bears down on me.

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