But weirdly enough, I didn’t feel warned. I felt inspired. Even a little excited, in the most morbid possible way.
For the first time since Calista’s death, I had real leads; threads I could tug on and follow. The tunnel beneath the chapel. Jennifer Albright. Maybe even Kane Sutherland, who was in a different friend group than the others I’d met so far, and therefore might know things about Calista that they didn’t.
I set my jaw and sucked in a deep breath as I braced myself against the chilly air. No matter how much certain people wanted me to, I wasn’t going to stop.No way.
Not until I knew exactly how and why my sister died.
11
Julian
I watchedfrom the shadows near the Hera building as Violet and Jeremiah approached the Chapel of Saints, their figures sharp against the slanting afternoon light.
My jaw clenched. What the hell were they doing there? The chapel wasn't on the way back to the lecture halls, dorms, or the library. It wasn't near the dining hall, either. There was no reason for them to be visiting the chapel right now, unless….
Fuck.Violet could be onto something. Something that could get her in real trouble with the Club.
My pulse kicked up as she disappeared through the heavy oak doors, Jeremiah at her side. I stayed perfectly still, counting seconds in my head. A minute. Two minutes. Three.
That’s enough.
I pushed off the wall, ready to step in. If Violet was down in the ossuary right now, if she'd somehow figured out how to open the tunnel entrance, I needed to know. Needed to intercept before she went too far, saw too much.
But just as I started toward the chapel, the doors swung open again, and Violet and Jeremiah emerged together.
I stopped, melting back into the shadows. They hadn't found the entrance. If they had, they would’ve been down there much longer, exploring the tunnel all the way up to the Dionysus estate. This little visit was probably just Cavanagh being an eager tour guide, showing off some campus history after their library study session.
Nothing to worry about.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Roman.
I stepped further into the shadows before answering. “Yeah?”
“Where are you right now?” he asked.
“On campus. Why?”
“The Council picked you for a job down in the city.”
I frowned. “I thought they wanted me on this Violet surveillance gig.”
“Well, yeah, but that’s just a part-time thing, isn’t it?” He paused, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “You don’t need to obsess over the girl twenty-four-seven.”
Too late for that.
“Besides, she can’t do much damage in a few hours,” Roman continued. “And you told us she hasn't done anything noteworthy so far anyway.”
Yeah. Because I'd lied.
I'd been bullshitting to the others about Violet’s activities for days now. Omitting the Google searches, the meetings with her friends, the way she'd been systematically piecing together information about the night her sister died.
I told myself it was strategic; that I needed to control the situation before escalating it to the Council. That if they knew how much digging she was doing, they'd take her off my hands and deal with her themselves. And I couldn't let that happen. Not because she wasn't a threat. She absolutely was. But because she wasmythreat to handle. My assignment. My responsibility.
Mine.
The truth was far simpler. I just didn't want anyone else touching her. Not the Council's enforcers, not another Reaper, not even Roman with his cold efficiency. The thought of someone else deciding her fate made something dark and possessive coil in my chest.
So I’d lied. And I'd keep lying for as long as I could get away with it.
