Chapter 37

37

VIOLET

The blood rune spell affects most of our group physically, giving me a chance to survey my surroundings before the questions start. Holly particularly struggles after experiencing the spell twice in a matter of minutes: it's rare for a human to join a witch in manipulating and travelling through the ether. In fact, the spell is rarely used at all since only those with Blackwood magic possess the ability to cast it. Holly's queasiness around blood doesn't help matters.

Rowan sits on the threadbare floral carpet, staring at a spot on the floor with great focus, and Leif rests against the lounge room wall holding his head. Grayson wanders around the space—or as much of a wander as he can manage amongst the crammed-in furniture—and Holly resumes her lying-on-the-floor-semi-conscious position, with an agitated Dashiell checking on her.

I sniff. "The place reeks of fake pine."

"Air freshener," says Rowan hoarsely. "It's making me feel sicker."

"Is the scent to disguise the smell of shifters. How many lived here?"

"Only two of us."

I look to Grayson for confirmation that Dashiell is lying, and he nods.

"I detect more than two," I say.

"Sam had mates around most days, but only me and him lived here." Dashiell strokes hair from Holly's face.

"Mates, plural? Unusual. Shifters usually have one."

"No, Violet. Mates. Friends ," says Rowan.

"Oh." I approach the poorly assembled shelving beside a TV. "Local vernacular becomes confusing when shifters are in the mix."

"You're right, Holly," says Dashiell. "Violet doesn't make sense half the time."

Dorian's people performed a thorough job when searching the place, and they weren't interested in tidying up after themselves. The investigators didn't overturn furniture or smash anything, but papers and all manner of junk are strewn around. Other items were left in half-open drawers, but there's nothing left on the shelves anymore.

While the others recover, I make a swift exploration of the home, which reveals three bedrooms with barely space for the single beds, an empty basement, a dirty kitchen that's seen better days, and a bathroom that's, quite frankly, disgusting.

By the time I return down the narrow stairs, Holly sits on a tatty beige sofa beside Dashiell, Leif on her other side, while Grayson stands in the window watching the outside world. Rowan picks up a silver lighter from the floor, stares at the item for a moment, and places it alongside a decorative bottle of alcohol.

"Anything?" I ask him. "I presume you're searching for an object to use for psychometry and not tidying the lounge room."

He nods. "Nothing bad happened around these objects; there're no imprints."

"No murders?" I ask.

Dashiell looks up. "Murders of who?"

"Who knows? They're common of late." I turn my head. "Holly. How are you?"

"I feel sick," she whispers from beneath her auburn curls.

"I'm not surprised. Holly has barely recovered from serious injuries, and you do this to her," says Dashiell.

"We all had to leave Scotland. Holly could not have stayed, otherwise she would've alerted Dorian that I'd taken you," I say sharply. "Which room in this house did you lock Holly in?"

Dashiell winces. "Sam kept her in the basement."

"Naturally." I sigh and survey the room again. The already dirty floor covering has extra stains from upturned mugs, and someone walked abandoned fries into the carpet.

I pick up a white mug printed with a blue S. A coffee stain has created a rim inside the mug, and I detect a hint of mold from the dregs. "Rowan. Come with me. Grayson, listen out for people nearby, and Leif watch Dashiell's behavior around Holly."

"I want to lie down," she mumbles.

"If I were Holly, I'd want to run from the place," says Leif quietly.

"Rowan," I repeat when he hesitates. "Don't waste time in case we need to leave."

I head from the lounge to the kitchen again, where more unwashed mugs and plates are piled in the sink, and a distinct odor of greasy food clings to the thin curtains.

"What the hell are you going to do with Dash?" asks Rowan as he closes the door behind us.

"Put him in the basement."

"And Holly? Will you put her in the basement too, when she loses her shit if you separate them?"

" That is a problem. I must persuade Holly to speak to Eloise tomorrow, alone. Tonight, we need to keep her away from Dashiell, or remain with the pair at all times if she makes a fuss." I look at Rowan. "With any luck, Viktor now knows I have Dash and shares my urgency."

"You think he'll know because Leif is with us?" I nod. "But you can't do what Viktor is asking, Violet! It's too dangerous. Wait until Eloise has had a chance to look at Holly's mind. There could be another solution."

"I am not having this conversation again. Eloise did not break Leif's spell in one session. I will not risk Holly's life."

Rowan's displeased expression tells me this is a pause in the ongoing debate rather than the end of it. He frowns at the mug in my hand. "Are you about to wash the dishes?"

"Somebody used this mug recently, and the state of the contents indicate it has resided in the lounge room for a number of days. I'd like you to try psychometry on the item and didn't want any distractions from the others." I thrust the dirty mug at him. "There could be residual magic if the item has been in the presence of a powerful witch, and residual energy from whoever drank the coffee."

"But no images unless something happened to create strong energy, Violet. Dorian will have taken anything suspicious."

"Yes, he did, but we can search for clues too." I glance at the doorway. "For instance, I'm positive strong emotions happened in the basement, from a captive girl."

Rowan sits on a wooden dining chair at the scratched circular table and cups the mug in his hands. I rest against the sink, watching expectantly. Rowan's brow tugs deep, eyes closed, and his own magic tinges the space immediately around him.

Murmured voices continue in the lounge room, and when Rowan takes longer than expected, I stare at the curtains instead. What next? I haven't thought the situation through, especially how Dorian will react. But didn't he want to ‘let Dashiell loose'?

I've finally found my chance to talk to the shifter, but will stick to pertinent questions only. I don't want to see him as anything more than an individual who deserves punishment for harming Holly.

"Yeah. Viktor was here."

I pull myself from the thoughts at Rowan's voice. "And?"

"I can detect magic that matches Viktor's energy from the night we met him, but there isn't anything specific to a spell," he says, and I purse my lips. "At least we know Viktor came to the house."

"Well, obviously, if he put a spell on Holly."

"We can't be a hundred percent sure that happened here, Violet," retorts Rowan and twirls the mug in his hand. "But he must've met Dashiell at some point because someone also messed with his memories."

"And performed this ridiculous spell linking him to Holly."

"Yeah. And there's something else," says Rowan. "Dash fought with someone. Not a bad enough fight to imprint images, but, again, his energy is attached. Red and angry. Did Dash have any injuries when you first saw him?"

"No. Not even from his fight with Sam in the woods. Dashiell said Sam didn't have time to retaliate."

"Which means the fight Dash had must've happened at least a day before we found Holly, because shifter injuries heal quickly."

I take a moment to process Rowan's words and then march from the room, where nobody has moved from their locations. "Who did you fight with?" I demand as I stand in the doorway.

"Shush!" Leif nods at Holly, curled up on the sofa, Dashiell beside her with a hand on my friend's side. "Holly fell asleep."

"I fought with Sam," says Dashiell quietly. "You know that."

"No. Who did you fight in this room?"

"Violet. Take advantage of Holly sleeping, and get Dashiell away from her," says Grayson, and walks around the sofa to face him. "I'll take him down."

Dashiell immediately stands. "Take me down? I'll fucking fight you," he growls.

" Down into the basement. I hear it's a great place for hiding people," Grayson says icily. "But, yeah, I could take you down in the other sense. You know not to bother fighting us."

"I'm not that stupid." He looks at Holly whose face has softened with sleep. "Violet. You have to return Holly to Eloise."

Interesting. "You've no compulsion to stay with Holly at all costs?" I ask.

"No. I want Holly to stay safe. She isn't safe with me," he whispers. "Take her back. Now."

"I am totally confused." I shove Grayson out of the way to face Dashiell. "Holly insisted she would free you, and then you'd leave together as exiled lovers."

He's silent for a moment. "And I agree with you that Holly's idea was insane."

"You weren't intending to leave with her?" I ask.

"Aren't you listening?" he snaps. "Holly's safety is my priority. I care about her, yeah, but I'm not crazed like she is. That spell—whatever it is—needs breaking."