Chapter 33

33

VIOLET

Travelling to Scotland using conventional methods takes hours. As we sit in Eloise's car, Holly enthuses about the scenery, but I pay little attention. I'm utilizing the time to read through notes from the last few days and trying to slot pieces together in my head.

Kai's mother. Kai's uncle . Where were those photographs taken? Because witches also frequented the caves if runes are carved inside. Madison and Viktor may not appear in those photos, but others at the gathering could be supes. How much did Sarah know about her brother's girlfriend and her unhinged, stalker ex? Enough that she refuses to talk about his death.

What did Sarah Sawyer take away in those suitcases?

I'm torn about what to do. The guys are relieved I've dropped my insistence that we explore the lodge tonight, but I don't tell them the reason I've changed my mind. Finding and taking Dashiell is my priority. He needs to be under my watch until I hear from Viktor.

Order of priority: Holly's safety and comfort, Dashiell's removal, lodge investigations.

But where do I take Dashiell once I have him?

We arrive in the late afternoon, leaving the lonely road that pushes through this part of Scotland and onto the estate, where the building hides at the end of a driveaway obscured by pine trees. Holly's tiredness overtook her delight at escaping the hospital, and she's less enthusiastic about her new surroundings. Wary even—she walks extremely close to me as we approach the gray manor home that's as foreboding and imposing as its owner. Ivy crawls towards windows of empty rooms, where darkness lies behind. I swear Holly is on the verge of holding my hand as she stares at the small stone gargoyles on either side of the entrance.

"They don't come to life," I inform her, and she smiles weakly. "Don't you like the house? Our rare visitors find the building fascinating."

She side-glances me. "How many people died here?"

"I don't have a precise number." When Holly loses all color from her face, I swallow down the elaboration that I would once use to scare a human. "The estate belonged to Dorian's vampire-half parents, the Rezniks."

"And they don't live here anymore?"

"He killed them."

"Oh. Right."

"They deserved to die." Holly looks nervously at the house again. "But perhaps don't mention the Rezniks to Dorian and Eloise. Especially Eloise."

"I don't want to know any more," she says hoarsely. "I won't ask them anything."

The interior of the home doesn't include any blood red accents to the decor, which I hope helps Holly's mind focus away from the place's macabre past. Eloise prefers pastel colors and soft furnishings in the rooms we use, such as the sofas that swallow the occupants in a sky blue velvet embrace.

I vocally objected as a child, wishing to model the home based on books I'd read about other supernatural residences until Ethan pulled me to one side for ‘a word'. The Reznik vampires filled the house with darkness and death, and by swathing the home in beautiful, bright colors, Eloise is claiming the home and erasing that past.

No wonder people have the false impression that she's as warm and welcoming as her home. How could the woman who bordered the hallways with flowers be anything like the violent men that she tamed and lives with?

Oh, Eloise can be. Very much so.

Dorian refused Eloise's attempts to colorize his personal space. He keeps a couple of rooms with their original dreary, black gothic appearance for when he deigns to meet people here. Dorian Blackwood in a brightly lit room accented in sunny yellows and floral cushions wouldn't give the impression he'd like.

Our home contains a dozen bedrooms spread throughout the building, but Holly insists she shares my room, and I'd rather keep an eye on her, too. We deposit our belongings in my bedroom, a familiar and comforting space decorated with old spell books and magical items, a few of which Holly poked and said ‘I won't ask'.

Then she set a small, bean-filled pink pig beside a jar of tiny bones. I seal my lips at the aberration. At least she hasn't changed her mind about staying in this apparent house of horrors.

The afternoon grows later and darkens quicker in this part of the world, but I have a task before dinner. Holly eagerly follows me out of the house with the duckling in her pocket, the girl wrapped up in a mint-green padded coat against the biting wind. She chatters as we pass through the starker environment, and, for once, I don't protest.

"Didn't you get lonely living here and rarely leaving?" she asks as we trudge along the stony track towards my personal part of the estate.

"No."

"I would've."

"You're not me."

Holly smiles. "No. Definitely not."

"We haven't spoken alone yet," I say, and she drops her gaze to the ground. "I feel we should discuss your abduction."

"There isn't much more to say," she replies quietly, her face paining.

I pause, causing Holly to stop too. "I understand if you wish to sever your friendship with me once we remove the spell from your mind."

"What? Why?" Her brown eyes go wide.

"Because your connection to me caused this injury, and you remain in danger for as long as you're in my life."

Holly continues to stare. "But aren't you going to catch and stop these people?"

I purse my lips and look to the nearby Highlands swathed in purple heather. "Many others in our world hate my father too. The person responsible for your situation isn't the only danger to your life."

"Right." She's quiet, stroking the duckling's head, but the bird focuses its attention on me. "Can we stay in touch even though I'm leaving Thornwood?"

"What?" I ask sharply. "No. You have to stay. I can room elsewhere in the academy."

"My parents are removing me. I can't stay if they don't pay the fees. The academy never told them I was missing! Dad completely lost his mind when he discovered that."

"Dorian will ensure you remain. He'll want you to stay too. For safety." Holly chews her lip and avoids my eyes. " You don't want to."

"I don't know, Violet." She pats the duckling. "Are you sure I can't keep your get well soon gift?"

"The zombie duck?" I ask sarcastically. "No. He's joining my other… animal friends. And don't change the subject."

"Ah yes, Disney Princess Violet and her menagerie. I bet they'll be pleased to see you." She snickers and links an arm through mine.

I allow her. This time. "Mmm."

We reach the edge of the pine trees that thin to reveal the stream and small clearing. I piled stones into a makeshift seat years ago, the gray rocks now covered in moss. Several tree trunks bear the scorch marks from my childhood fire spells; others are carved with practice runes.

My place of solace—and where I hid if I annoyed my father.

A brown rabbit appears from the briars, followed by several more, and sparrows land on the branches above the stones. I take a deep breath and ready myself for Holly's amusement as the animals I reanimated over the years gather to welcome me.

For the first time, I'm aware how untoward this is, not only to a human but anybody who discovers the necromancer's daughter has a menagerie of undead creatures. Only small ones: a fox is the largest I've ever created, but she doesn't always appear.

As I sit on the rock, and the creatures approach, I eye Holly whose open-mouthed amazement continues. "Do the birds sit on your shoulder?" she asks.

"No." My mouth thins. "I have researched these Disney princesses you mentioned, and the animals do not respond to me in such a way. They don't approach my home and certainly never perform housework."

"Why don't they?"

"I doubt they could pick up a broom." A robin joins the other birds perched on the branches above my head.

"No." She giggles at me. "I meant, why don't they follow you to the house?"

"I use runes to keep them away, otherwise you'd be sharing the room with rodents tonight."

"Rodents?" Holly shuffles her feet, glancing at the ground as if expecting a swarming mass of rats.

"Mostly field mice."

"This is insane."

"At least only animals live here. No people." Her eyes bug again. "Holly, I haven't tried to reanimate a person."

"Yet?" I give her a tight smile, and her throat bobs. "Did you have a pet dog or cat? Is there one here?"

"I wasn't allowed." My lips thin at the memory of regular arguments regarding my desire for a living animal companion that wasn't local wildlife. "Eloise doesn't like dogs."

"Oh. But it would be funny if you had a black cat following you around."

"Why?"

"Or a raven." Holly chuckles.

"There are a couple around somewhere. Ravens are prevalent in this area. Most are small birds. from when I was young and inexperienced. Chaffinches. Sparrows." I point upwards then frown. "Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry. I never imagined you as an ornithologist."

"I'm not. I'm a necromancer who, as a child, didn't like animals dying." I stand away from the rocks. "I expect the place and practice appears odd to you."

"These animals weren't created because you wanted to practice?" she asks cautiously. "Like with this duckling?"

I suck my lips together, ignoring a vague memory of the day the first animal I'd attached myself to died. "I particularly like ducks." I pause. "Stop snickering, Holly."

"Sorry." She bites away a smile.

But the amusement lights up Holly, chasing away the darkness that hasn't lifted from her since she lay in the hospital bed. The missing smile that once seemed permanently etched on her face has returned, along with eyes that shine with curiosity and happiness. Holly is more herself and less like me again, and for that I'm grateful.

I take Holly to the small pond nearby, and she picks up a pebble with a black rune painted on one side, watching as three ducks glide across the water towards me. The white one that quacks excitedly around my feet is the closest I had to a pet, and the first I used necromancy on in Scotland.

"That duck likes you the most," comments Holly. "Did you name him or her?"

"Yes. Duck."

Holly laughs again, the sound merging with the chattering birds. "Well, I'm naming this duckling."

"You appear to attach yourself to things easily, Holly."

"Dash." She crouches and places the duckling on the ground.

"Yes. That person in particular."

"No. The duckling's name. Dash. Suits him. Look how fast he ran to the pond."

Good grief. "This obsession worries me, Holly."

"He's a good person," she tells me. Again . "If Dash hadn't followed me and the other shifter that night, I swear I'd be dead. Once Dash discovered me at the house and who I was, he watched the academy hoping to find you. Dash wanted to tell you where I was."

"Can he not use a phone?"

"Dash didn't want to risk that."

I sigh. "Or leave a note? Email?"

Holly huffs. "He wanted to see you face to face, okay? He couldn't risk anybody knowing what he was doing."

"Rather a stupid idea. I was upset and angry that you were missing and may've reacted… unkindly. Dashiell also terrified your paranoid friends."

She stands and straightens. "A lot of humans at the academy are frightened of the supernatural now and they want to protect themselves."

I slant my head. "Ah yes. The brooches your little gang created."

"What? How do you know? I wasn't involved, Violet!" Her cheeks redden from more than the chilly breeze. "Is Marci in a lot of trouble?"

"No. But I've eliminated her from my suspects. There is something sinister within the academy, and I believe there's a plan to drive a wedge between humans and supes. I'm concerned there may be more unfortunate incidents."

"‘Unfortunate incidents'. Do you mean deaths?"

"Possibly."

"Now I definitely don't want to return to Thornwood." Her voice rises in pitch. "Who do you think is behind everything?"

"Witches." I relent and crouch to pet the white duck, who I swore I wouldn't re-form any attachment to. "Perhaps Mrs. Lorcan."

"Wow," breathes out Holly. "Is that why Wes died?"

Holly's expectant expression unnerves me. This human, on the edge, yet in the thick of everything surrounding a plot against Dorian, wants to know more. Everything. Issues and facts she'd struggle to understand. I'm unable to explain and daren't tell Holly about Viktor and the link to her mind. He may know her whereabouts and thoughts. I may be keen for Victor to detect where I am and what I'm doing, but not for him to know too much.

And Holly can't know my plans for Dashiell.

"Investigations are ongoing," I say stiffly, and she scoffs. "Holly, we will ensure yours and Kai's safety. Everybody's. It would help if you could remember more. Who took you from campus?"

She pushes curls from her cheek. "I've spoken about this over and over. I can't remember anything between looking for Chase and waking up in that house."

Orchestrated by somebody in the academy; the one who used her Instagram account?

Bizarrely, Holly's distress over that invasion by the unnamed person matched the pain caused by her wounds. Therefore, nobody mentioned that a second person also hacked her account; Holly dislikes Rowan already.

"And nobody hurt you physically?"

"No. I was alone most of the time. Plus, Dash sat outside the door a lot."

"On guard against you leaving," I say derisively.

"On guard against anybody hurting me. I'd told him that Sam scared me." Holly's face becomes earnest, and I brace myself for another speech about her affection for her captor. "And I don't remember the man who came, but one did. A witch. He must've put the spell in my head. He's why my memories are fuzzy."

"Oh, I know exactly who that was," I say. "And I'm on the verge of finding him."

"But your father wants me to stay here until you do." She turns away from the ducks, her expression imploring. "Will you stay with me?"

"I do not wish to stay in Scotland for long. As a person on the inside in the academy, I'm best suited to uncovering who and why, but I shall visit. Daily."

Holly's eyes well. "I hate all this."

"And I am sorry I have disrupted and endangered your life."

When Holly says nothing, air disappears from my lungs. She does blame me.

This spell has to go, but with Holly's human frailty, exacerbated by her injuries and the long journey, Eloise decided to delay her exploration of Holly's mind until tomorrow.

"Would you feel safe if Eloise looks into your mind without me present?" I ask her. "I'd offer, but Leif preferred me to stay away. You may too."

"Why? Did your magic interfere?" I shake my head. "There won't be any blood, will there?"

A memory of Leif's face when I mentioned his bleeding eyes and ears stops me answering for a moment. "No."

"I'll be okay, but promise to wait outside the room."

"You have my word." I gesture. "Should we return to the house? You look cold."

"Tell me where Dashiell is."

I blink at her sudden question. "I believe that my father either placed Dashiell in a room in the old wing, warded by runes, or in the old groundman's cottage, also warded."

"Not a dungeon?"

"My house does not have—" I catch her smile and pause.

"But I can see him?"

I sigh. But what Holly said about Dashiell's actions… Did Dashiell protect Holly and save her life, and I'm about to sacrifice his?