19. AN INVESTIGATION BEGINS #3
Embry nodded and Rye’s eyes narrowed. It was somewhat of a relief that he hadn’t heard the conversation in real time, but that didn’t save her from telling him now. Honesty was the best policy, even if it made her want to burst into flames.
“In what way?”
Embry steeled herself. Here went nothing.
“Oakley said that she liked you.” Rye’s mouth thinned. “And insinuated that she was going to ask you to the homecoming dance.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Rye sputtered, splotches of color rising from the apples of his cheeks to the wells under his dark lashes. He cleared his throat and added, “I’m not a student.”
“That’s what I said!” Embry nearly squealed, pleased that he was of the same mind. Lowering her voice, so it wouldn’t carry upstairs to Daddy or the doctor, she said, “And then she told me that the social committee had amended the rule on that… and that’s when I told her she couldn’t ask you…”
Her voice trailed off and she readjusted on the stool, hoping he wouldn’t ask her why she’d said the vampire couldn’t pursue him, if the rule had been changed.
Embry wasn’t sure why she’d said it, only that she believed it fervently deep in her gut.
This spiky shard protruding from her soul was probably the protective action of a little sister. Yes, that had to be it.
In the ensuing silence, Rye pieced together the rest from the part of the conversation that had been made public. “That’s what she was reacting to when she said, You do or you wouldn’t tell me that I can’t do something.”
Embry nodded into the rim of her mug. Rye wet his lips, set down his own tea with a muted clink, and went on. “So, you told her she couldn’t ask me to the dance, she reacted by saying you thought you owned everything at the school and on the island…”
“And a damning video was born.”
“Shit,” Rye cursed softly.
She nodded. “Shit.”
Embry expected the heavy silence to settle on their shoulders for a while, but instead, Rye stood up and shoved aside the teakettle and accoutrements.
“Woodcross, get dressed. We’re going to the school.”
Embry glanced at the clock on the stove. Time flew when sniffing out a killer. “Rye, it’s three thirty in the morning.”
This did not deter him. “Yes, it is. Which means it’s the perfect time to break in and begin our investigation.”
Embry thought maybe now he was the one hallucinating. Or perhaps he’d been driven mad by too little sleep, too much caffeine, and an underlying savior complex.
“Please tell me your big plan isn’t that we sneak into the dorm and interrogate the entire homecoming court before dawn. I’m pretty sure that would get me expelled no matter how my current suspension shakes out.”
“Of course not. We’re going to retrace the killer’s steps before it’s daylight and we’re spotted. Put on something black and meet me at the gate to Raven’s End in ten minutes.”
“I am wearing black,” Embry retorted, standing up to gesture pointedly at her fashionable yet comfortable pajama set. Even the piping along the seams of the sleeves and trousers was a perfect midnight.
Taking one long look at the whole of her, Rye coughed and gestured animatedly. “Yes you are, but those pajamas are also so shiny they’re bound to pick up the moonlight.”
“That’s because they are silk.”
Rye ran a hand down his face, obviously aggrieved in a way that had a smile tugging the corners of Embry’s mouth. “Find something matte and black, and meet me in nine minutes.”
“Wait,” Embry whisper-shouted and lunged for him, snagging the fingertips of the hand closest to her as he turned to walk away.
Though her hold was tenuous at best, Rye acted as if she’d caught him in the kind of steel-toothed snare trappers used illegally for bears—turning to raise an eyebrow at her over his shoulder.
“Am I safe beyond the residence wards?” Then, because that sounded especially pathetic, Embry added, “From Oakley’s family? ”
Rye’s surprise softened. His whole body pivoted to face her, and somehow now he’d smothered her grip in his own. His hands were warm from his teacup, his full mouth a resigned line, even against the tender crinkle of his eyes.
“You weren’t safe in the wards, Em,” he pointed out, gently for him. “I think the bigger threat here is doing nothing while this investigation plays out.”
She stiffly exhaled. One weekend of victimhood and inaction was enough.
Embry had the sneaking suspicion that if she’d advocated for herself, if she’d done what they were about to do the second she stepped off campus, perhaps she would’ve been tipped off to the vampires’ plans for attack.
Perhaps last night wouldn’t have happened.
Perhaps she wouldn’t have almost lost the one person who meant the most to her in all the world.
“And Daddy?” she asked, her whisper nearly a croak. “Do you think he’s safe enough here with the wards and Dr. Goldman?”
“The doc is ex-CIA, so I think he’s in capable hands.” Rye squeezed her fingers and crouched to look her directly in the eye and on her level. “We make him safer by proving your innocence.” Yes, yes, this was right. She nodded. “Eight minutes. Raven’s End.”
Then Rye Knighton left through the front door like a normal person.