What I hadn't told them was what happened in the parking lot. The way Kane had shoved me into the wall. The bruises he'd left on my arm and back. The way Julian had appeared out of nowhere and knocked Kane right out.
I knew I should’ve told the police about that. Should’ve mentioned that Julian had been there, that he'd been following me, that he'd done something with Kane after I was safely back in my dorm.
But I hadn't, and I didn't know why.
Every time I tried to form the words ‘Julian Valcourt was there too’,something stopped me. Some twisted part of my brain that whispered, ‘he was protecting you’and ‘Kane deserved whatever happened to him’.
Which was insane. Completely insane.
If Julian had killed Kane because he hurt me—and the rational part of my brain said he probablyhad—then I should be absolutely horrified. Petrified. Running straight to the police to report everything I knew.
Instead, I mostly felt... confused. And something else that felt disturbingly like gratitude.
Kane had hurt me. Left bruises on my skin. And then he'd vanished, and some dark part of me started whispering that I was safer now. That Julian had made me safer.
I hated that I felt that way. Hated that I'd covered for a man who was almost certainly a dangerous killer. Hated that when I thought about Julian stepping between me and Kane, my pulse quickened for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
Julian obviously knew it, too. After all, hehad to know I'd covered for him with the police. Which made what came next even more confusing.
The text.
I saw you.
Two words that had been haunting me for two weeks. I knew Julian had sent it, because no one else had been close enough to recognize me in that ritual chamber. But it seemed like he hadn't reported me to the Club. Hadn't told anyone what I'd done.
Why?
I'd spent countless sleepless nights turning that question over in my mind. Was it a tit-for-tat sort of thing?You didn’t rat on me to the cops, so now I won’t rat on you to the Club?
Or was he planning to blackmail me? Use what he knew as leverage? Was he waiting for the right moment to expose me? To watch me squirm in front of his so-called ‘brothers’ in some dark chamber beneath the estate?
Or… was there something else going on?
Three days ago, something had happened that made even less sense to me than all the other stuff. I'd been leaving the library late, arms full of textbooks, and I'd tripped on the steps. Completely ate it, books flying everywhere. And suddenly Julian had been there—justthere, like he always seemed to be—and he'd caught my arm before I totally face-planted on the concrete.
For a moment, his hand had lingered on my elbow. At the same time, his stormy blue eyes had locked onto mine, and I'd seen something there. Something that looked like desire. Longing, even.
But that was crazy. Julian Valcourt didn't want me. If he did, he wouldn’t have left that message in blood on my wall or sent me those creepy texts demanding I stop asking questions. He was just fucking with my head; playing some kind of twisted game that I didn't understand. The idea that he might actually be romantically interested in me was absurd.
Right?
“Violet? Hello?” Dylan’s voice pulled me out of my reverie. “You completely zoned out.”
“Sorry,” I said, forcing another smile. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” Cherry asked, leaning forward.
About how I might be protecting a killer. About how that should terrify me but it doesn't. About how every time I close my eyes, I see Julian in that black mask, and I don't know if I want to run from him or toward him.
“Nothing too important,” I said, waving a hand. “Just a paper I need to start writing.”
“God, that reminds me, I really need to—”
Cherry was cut off midsentence by a girl shouting across the dining hall.
“It’s out!”
Every head snapped toward the entrance, where a petite brunette stood, chest heaving and eyes wild with hysteria.
