Page 88 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“This is… This is a lot to take in,” I say, forcing myself to remain calm, even though my thoughts immediately go back to that night at the pub, and Dorian’s warning.

Henrietta slumps into the chair beside my desk, her face pale. “Do you think that this has anything to do with Dorian and Logan?” she asks, coming to the same conclusion as me.

I want to say no, but after everything that’s happened, I’m not sure I’d believe it. “I don’t know,” I say carefully.

“But what if it was… What if Logan did something to my ex too? You read the note,” Henrietta whispers.

“You don’t believe what he told you that night at dinner?”

“The whole night is a bit of a blur, to be honest. I mean, I recall what he’d said, and I believed him. And yet, everything else is a little… murky. I think, perhaps, I had too much wine.”

“Do you still have Gareth’s number?” I ask, keeping my voice steady and resisting the urge to comment on the fact that I’m almost certain Henrietta only had two glasses of wine. Despite her petite size, she’s drunk far more on nights out and has never forgotten a thing. Which makes her behaviour that night more than a little concerning.

“I don’t. I deleted it as soon as I broke up with him. But I do have his sister’s number. She was actually really nice, and nothing like her shitty brother. Should I call her?”

“If you don’t, neither of us are going to be able to get through the rest of the day.”

Henrietta nods and pulls her phone from her pocket. After a moment she presses dial, chewing on her lip as she waits for an answer.

“Is this Francesca?” Henrietta asks, the phone gripped tightly in her hand. “This is Henrietta. I know this call is out of the blue, but I was just wondering if, erm…” Her eyes widen at me as she tries to think of a reasonable explanation for calling. “I was just wondering if Gareth was okay.”

“Bloody hell,” I mutter as she winces.

I wait as Francesca responds, trying to read Henrietta’s expression and steeling myself for the worst.

“He’s moved to France?” She looks up at me, blowing out a silent breath. “And you spoke to him recently, did you?”

Henrietta’s shoulders drop, the tension easing from her body as relief sweeps across her face.

“This morning. That’s great. Thank goodness…” She pulls a face, giving me a helpless look. “Oh no. Nothing’s wrong. I just… Erm, I bumped into a mutual friend over the weekend and he mentioned Gareth… Sorry. I, erm, you must think I’m acting terribly strange,” she quickly adds. “No, no, don’t tell him I called. He’s started a new job, and I’m sure he doesn’t need a reminder of how we broke up.”

“How you broke his nose, you mean,” I mutter, holding in an inappropriate laugh.

“Yes, okay. Well, take care. I should go, the bell’s about to ring for the end of break-time,” Henrietta quickly adds, before cutting the call. “He’s not dead, thank goodness.”

“So I gathered.”

“Apparently, he was offered a new role in Paris. Left last week,” Henrietta explains, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

“Well, at least we know Logan didn’t kill the arsehole.”

Henrietta nods. “But what about those men? Maybe you should call Dorian and ask him outright if he was involved.”

“Absolutely not,” I reply, shaking my head. “Besides, do you honestly think he’d tell me the truth if he was involved? Not to mention the fact I’ve broken things off between us. ”

“What? When? Why?” she asks.

“Why did I call things off, or why didn’t I tell you?” I throw back, trying to buy some time.

“Both.” She huffs out a breath, folding her arms across her chest.

“For various reasons,” I mumble.

She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re scared.”

“If he had anything to do with these murders, I have every reason to be,” I retort.

“I didn’t mean that, and you know it. You’re scared of your feelings for him. You’re running from them, Edie.”