“Let us go,” Rowan said. “I can fill you in on the rules of my house.”
“Oh, boy.” I fell into step beside him, hyperaware of the space between our bodies—maybe six inches, close enough to feel his body heat in the humid air. “I can’t wait.”
Sarcasm dripped from my voice, but underneath it, something fluttered. Anticipation, maybe? Or trepidation for the murder, the danger, the complications piling up like debts I couldn’t pay. Or the beginning of something I’d refused to admit.
Chapter 14
Rowan
Violet did not seem to mind the rules I gave her. Her roommate was gone before we returned, giving us privacy to discuss the finer details while sitting in her dorm, the dark wood flooring gleaming under lights that cast everything in amber warmth.
First, meals were to be consumed prior to her shift. If she absolutely had to eat or drink at Oubliette, she would only consume items we brought ourselves. Nothing from the club. Nothing touched by the staff or clientele.
Second, she would keep a spare set of clothes at my place. I hadn’t made this official yet, but with time, I planned to note her sizes and shop for a few pieces myself. The thought of her wearing something I’d chosen sent an unwelcome heat through my chest.
Third, no one-on-one dances. No private rooms. No circumstances where she’d be alone with a patron. Thankfully, this was something she agreed to immediately, her hazel eyes clear and certain when she’d nodded. She didn’t think it would pose a problem for Jules.
Fourth, she would take the bed. I would sleep in the living room. She’d argued this one, but I’d been immovable. The bed was hers. End of discussion.
Fifth, Violet could have freedom from my constant presence, but only if she was strict about traveling from dorm to shower. Direct routes only. No detours. No wandering unless it was in large public places like bus terminals, where there were plenty of people. Otherwise, I would shadow her every step.
She had agreed to the rules initially, but—true to her nature—quickly revolted. After spending a few hours with me, my presence a constant blur at the edges of her vision, she’d begged me to leave her alone for an hour or two before her late evening training. Studying for tests, she’d claimed, her voice carrying that particular edge of desperation that told me she needed space to breathe.
So, I’d given it to her. . . and I promptly went hunting for answers.
I haunted the university’s grounds like a ghost, testing old skills I hadn’t used since my first life. The oak trees were ancient, their branches thick enough to bear my weight without creaking. I climbed them with careful rigor, bark rough and solid under my palms, the scent of green leaves and wood filling my nostrils. I scaled a few walls, hiding from students who passed below in clusters, their voices bright with weekend plans and exam stress.
It was exhilarating using a younger and stronger body compared to the one I had died in. I almost lost sight of my quest.
Then, finally, I found her.
In an alcove formed by oak trees near the library, I found my vampyress hidden in the treetops—a fitting location for a creature who’d lived centuries. Her ivory dress was spread around her like an offering to the grove, and the bright fabric caught the dappled light of the setting sun as it filtered through the canopy above. She’d nestled into the crook of a massive branch, her body relaxed in a way that suggested complete comfort. In her pale hands, she held a leather-bound copy ofThe Epic of Gilgamesh, the pages yellowed with age.
She did not look up from her book when I approached, though I knew she’d sensed me the moment I’d entered the grove. She said, “I could have sworn I put up a glamour.” Her voice carried that particular musical quality unique to her kind. Like wind chimes made of bone.
I sat down on a lower branch nearby, careful not to brush against her. Even accidental contact with a vampyre could be dangerous if they were hungry or annoyed.
“It seems you can hide from many, but not all, vampyress.”
She snapped the book closed with a sound like a gunshot in the quiet grove. In the shadows of the grove, her eyes appeared midnight like thevast sky—pupils blown so wide the irises disappeared—turned to me with an intensity that would have made most mortals flee.
“Indeed. Why have you come?”
Excellent question. . . whyhaveI come?This was foolhardy, but I could not seem to steer myself away from danger. Not when Violet was involved.
“Did you do it?” I refused to be subtle. No point dancing around the question when we both knew what I was asking.
Her eyes flashed, literally glowed with offense for a heartbeat before dimming back to passing as human. “No.”
“No?” I sounded as incredulous as one could with a one-syllable word.
She met my abrasion with unexpected gentleness, her voice softening. “I did not kill that boy. Not when it could threaten someone close to me.”
“Oh?” I tilted my head, studying her. The faintest flutter of her heart pattering—a telltale sign she’d fed recently—sounded nothing like the thunderous pounding of a human heart. The lack of breathing, the utter stillness of her chest, the nearly radiant light of her eyes, and how her skin seemed to absorb sunlight rather than reflect it were just some of the symptoms of vampyrism. The signs were so blatant when you knew how to look for them that it made me wonder how vampyres had remained hidden throughout all of human history.
Then it occurred to me that she had casually mentioned that she cared for someone attending Shademore. Was that why she was hanging around the campus and not feeding to her shriveled heart’s content? It had been days since I had seen her, and I knew she must be ravenous. Was there a reason why she was withholding herself?
No matter. I continued my inquiry. “But you know who did.”
