Page 43 of Hallowed Bones

“I was just talking to her,” Lyall grits out, straightening.

Ezra’s gaze drops to Lyall’s open jeans. “Yeah? Is that why your dick’s half out?”

Lyall doesn’t flinch. Just shrugs and zips up like he couldn’t care less. “Maybe she wanted a preview.”

Ezra curses, low and vicious, and spins on me. His hand clamps around my upper arm.

“We’re leaving,” he growls, dragging me toward the hall.

Yeah, that is so not happening. I dig in my heels the moment we hit the front room, slowing him down just long enough for Ezra to glance over his shoulder at me in annoyance.

“There’s no chance in hell that I’m leaving with you,” I snap as I pry his grip from my arm.

Ezra curses and reaches for me again. I take a half step back, only pausing when I swear to god I see the tattoos inked over his forearm move. I blink again as his hand clamps down on my wrist.

“Haven?” I turn. Elodie’s watching from a doorway, brows drawn tight in concern, her hand still entwined with the lacrosse guy’s. “Are you okay?” She flicks a look from me to Ezra.

“Fine!” I lie easily, pasting a bright smile on my face even as I pinch down on the back of Ezra’s hand hard enough that he hisses out a breath and releases me. “Just fine!”

Ezra’s hand lifts again, and I slap it away. “Don’t touch me,” I warn him before returning my attention to Elodie. “I’m gonna head back to campus,” I tell her. “You stay. Just don’t walk back alone.”

“What about you?” Her eyes are still on Ezra, who hovers at my back like some pompous grim reaper waiting for me to choke and die so he can steal my soul away.

I open my mouth, but Ezra beats me to a response. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.” He shoots me a look. “I wanted to talk to her anyway.”

I’m. Going. To. Murder. Him.

Elodie’s brows shoot up. Her lips part, forming a silent oh.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. She came here tonight to have a good time. If she leaves with me now, she’ll be right back in her bed and crying by 2 AM. I am not going to let that happen. “It’s not that far.”

“Okay,” she says. “If you’re sure…” She doesn’t look convinced, but the guy beside her tugs her attention away, and they disappear down the hall.

The second they’re gone, I round on Ezra.

Grabbing the lapel of his jacket, I yank him down to my level. “Don’t even try,” I grit out, voice laced with venom, “to follow me. I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to back. Off.”

His jaw hardens.

“Has Cameron talked to you yet?” he demands, surprising me.

I shove him back with a shake of my head. “What Cameron and I talk about is none of your concern,” I tell him. “I am not your concern. You need to get that through your head or you’re going to regret it.” With that, I turn and storm through the front door, slamming it shut behind me.

CHAPTER 17HAVEN

Nihil mali audi. Videte nullum malum. Ne dicas malum. Benedictus sanguis Deorum.

—WITCH PRAYER, DATE UNKNOWN

Stubborn. Pig-headed. Stupid. Man.

Each stomp down the road toward the forest path that leads to the back of Ipswich’s campus is met with another mental insult that I sling back to Ezra fucking Bishop.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” I ask aloud.

The silence holds no answer. It never does when I want it to, only when it’s slipping in through cracked doors and over too-tired ears when I’m too frightened to listen. Now, though? When my ears are wide open and I speak directly to it, it flees in the opposite direction.

“Coward,” I huff and bring my foot down on a dry twig, relishing in the sharp crack that the sound makes. I’m so angry that I can feel tears burning in the backs of my eyes. It frustrates me to no living end, because there’s no good reason to cry. I’m angry and the emotion needs to come out somehow, but does it really have to be through tears?