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And I realize, queasily, that she was.

“You killed him,” I scream-whisper, my voice trembling, “while I was right next door! What are you, insane?”

She smiles at me, her features unstrung and lunatic. “This was never going to be a bloodless war, Lacie, dear. I told you that.”

“God, I know, but—but Marcella, if someone finds him—”

“I don’t plan on getting caught.”

I gape at her confidence. Her perfectly put-together outfit, her skirt riding slightly up her leg as she leans against the couch. Her lips and her fingernails tipped in black. How they felt against—

Enough, I yell internally.

“Marcella, this is a dormitory. What’s to stop the university from checking in?”

“They won’t suspect us in the slightest. Or not you, anyway. You have nothing to fear.”

I groan, leaning heavily on the wall. Bellatrix bounds from the shadows, mewing, and I take a knee to scratch her ears. “This was a bad choice.”

She shrugs loosely, sweeping the smooth gloss of her hair over her shoulders. “I needed a faculty login.”

“And you had to—murder this guy?” I pause, slapping a hand over my eyes. “Who is he? I can’t look.”

“He was William Quiggley, PhD. He is now a lump of inert flesh. His liver tasted like boiled pennies.”

Flushing, I imagine Marcella gnawing on the iron-rich organ, its slippery texture spilling over her fingertips. “A-a freaking professor emeritus? Are you crazy? He’ll be missed in an instant!”

“I was counting on that, actually,” she fires back. “I want them to show their hand. Once they notice he’s gone, they’ll start acting strangely. Battening down the hatches. I said this was a game of chess before, and I meant it. We had to make a first real move.”

“Why?” My voice is strained as I sit back on my heels. Bellatrix clambers into my lap and rubs her little head against my chest. “Why couldn’t we have sat back and just seen what happened to the—”

And then I realize, because of course. We could have waited around, sure. But we would have been dooming someone else. The next right thing would be to take out another vættr.

So she did, heedless of the danger she put us in.

“There’s another thing. I was going to tell you later, but I suppose if we’re fretting together, you ought to know,” Marcella says with an imperious lift of her chin. “They are suspicious of us after leaving the party early. Especially me.”

“Christ.” Tears threaten behind my lids, hot and sparking. “Then why—”

“Because I don’t think they would expect me, or anyone really, to act as brazenly as this. I predict they’ll throw a hissy fit, go into a tizzy. I mean, have you met men? They’ll fight back with brute force, and we’ll be a sharply honed dagger to the throat.” She nods at the now-dead Quiggley, a smile lacing up her face. “And I learned a few things in the process.”

“What could possibly be so important?”

Marcella gives a skittering laugh that sets my teeth on edge.

“What?” I snarl. “What is it? All you’re doing is keeping me in the dark! I keep trying to help and you’re standing in my way.” I bolt up, fingernails piercing the skin of my palms as I stomp toward her then jaggedly turn away from Quiggley’s body. I realize: she didn’t just slit his throat; she disemboweled him. What’s left of him smells like the bottom of a school locker, a slurry of rot and spoiled meat.

She takes two fingertips to my chin and tilts my head to look at her sharp features. “Lacie, darling, you are so much better than they credit you for. You being in the dark is the way I’m keeping you safe.”

“I don’t want to be safe, Marcella, I—” But I do, don’t I? I’ve always preferred for her to do the dirty work so I can squint and pretend like I myself am bringing justice down on Dean Shea’s head. I allowed her to take the lead even when I said I wanted to be involved.

Carefully, so carefully, I step backward, extracting myself from Marcella’s grip. “You told me when we found Therese not to look away. That doing so would be more harmful than helpful.” A shuddering breath breaks the tight cage of my ribs. “You’re right. I want you to let me be involved.”

“But is it for the right reasons?”

“What are those, exactly?” I don’t think my heart can take any more of this. What does she want from me? “It’s like running a labyrinth in the dark, Marcella—it’s not fair. I don’t know what’s chasing me and I don’t know how to evade it—or when I’m going to run into a wall that’ll make it impossible to escape.”

“I just don’t want you to—to see too much.”