Page 10 of What Happened on Roslyn Street? (Strode University #1)

It’s like I’ve never flirted in my life, my mind going blank. In a desperate attempt to stay busy, I fill my plate—with fruit, rice, eggs, and bacon. I’m hardly paying attention as I shovel a bite into my mouth.

His eyes are fixated on me, long fingers slowly picking at his food.

“I would like to walk you to class,” he says, with so little enthusiasm that it’s easy to agree to. It means nothing.

How many times will he insist on walking me around? It’s normal on this campus, I guess, but I can’t trust anyone to keep me safe.

“Sure.” I set down my fork. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about your watch.”

“You can hold onto it for me.” His eyes lock onto mine. “For now.”

There’s a promise behind his words, something unsaid. I don’t fully understand what it is, but it sends a shiver down my spine.

“It seemed important to you last night.”

“And it still is,” he says. “But I feel like you’re as stubborn as I am.”

“You may be right.” I manage a small, hesitant smile.

I’m willing to bet I’m more stubborn than him—at least when it comes to Poppy.

“I am right. You’re stubborn enough that you won’t tell me why you want to keep my watch so badly.” His voice drops. “But I expect to earn your trust in time.”

He will never earn my trust. I keep the thought to myself, but I’m worried it’s written all over—my eyes narrow, and I hold onto my fork with a vice grip.

After a moment, I release it, the metal clattering onto my plate. “I’m leaving,” I say, standing. “If you want to follow me around again, now is your chance.”

I’m an idiot. Why am I encouraging a murderous vampire to follow me around? It’s what he wants. This is exactly how he lured Poppy—and the others. His footsteps follow, and I pat my pocket, making sure my pencil is still there.

Plenty of students see us leave together. It’s a small comfort.

“This is usually the part where we exchange numbers,” he says as we stroll to class.

I’m confident I know the way now, and the map is in my bag for safekeeping. He seems confident as well, walking in long strides.

“It would be…” I hesitate. I’ve already given him way too much, and I shouldn’t encourage whatever he thinks is happening with us. “But I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”

He looks at me with lifted brows. It takes several seconds of silence for me to realize the words are encouraging in their own way. He’s going to take it as a challenge and?—

God… I’m actually bantering with him.

“What do I have to do to earn it?” he asks, with a smile in his voice.

“If I have to tell you, that’s not you earning it.”

He huffs, holding the door open. Unlike last time, he follows me inside.

“How’s this?” he asks.

“How is what?” I’m dangerously close to laughing, more from confusion than amusement.

“I’m walking you to class,” he says. “Properly this time. Is this how I earn your number?”

He seems genuinely perplexed, and I bite at the inside of my cheek, finding it harder than ever to avoid laughter.

Caldwell may be useless, but he’s fun to laugh at.

“That is… the bare minimum.” I stop in front of the lecture hall. “You’ll have to do better next time.”

Now, when he smiles, it becomes more obvious. His lips lift into a half smile, head tilting to the side.

“Then there will be a next time?” he asks.

I roll my eyes, my hand resting on the door handle. “Goodbye, Caldwell.”

I make sure I have the last word, quickly ducking into the hall.

There’s a quiet hush in the hall. The small group of students is already settled in, and Professor Cruz stands near the front. Like the first day, I find my seat with Amelia.

She offers a bright smile, leaning in closer. “I was hoping you would sit with me,” she whispers.

“Then it’s your lucky day,” I say, returning her smile.

Amelia may come on strong, but she’s kind, and she could prove herself useful in my investigations. I’ll stay on her good side.

The class is an ordinary one. It’s exactly the break I need between sleuthing.

During my classes, I’m like any other student—well, mostly. My dreams aren’t dashed to pieces, my life isn’t a lost cause, and my best friend is alive. Or, at least, I’m not thinking about her death.

Of course, as the class comes to an end, something has to change it. The other students file out, but when I go to join them, an intrusion gives me pause. A serious-looking man enters the room, wearing a grave expression.

“Tobey Underwood?” he calls, looking at Professor Cruz for help.

I freeze, my eyes wide as I lift a shaking hand. “That’s… um, that’s me?”

It’s my real name, but I don’t sound sure of it. Do I want to claim my identity? Something about the stern voice tells me I’m in trouble.

“I need to have a word with you,” the stranger says.

“You can speak in here.” Professor Cruz smiles brightly, diffusing the tension. In a flash, he’s standing beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder. It’s a small act, but it feels protective—and comforting. “What is the problem?”

“I’m here on behalf of the current investigation,” he says. “Namely, the most recent murder. Where were you last night, Underwood?”

“Um… in my room?” I frown. “I walked by the crime scene with everyone else, and a professor escorted us to our dorms. I stayed there for the night. It was late, quiet hours and all, so I slept… or I tried to. I doubt anyone got much sleep last night.” I laugh nervously.

The sound of my laughter dies as the man continues to stare me down.

“That’s the only thing you did?” the investigator asks. His face is like stone, unmoving and cold.

“Um… yes.” My heart is racing. I didn’t do anything last night—other than stealing evidence. God, did he see me take it? I look up to the ceiling, pretending to think. “I stopped outside my dorm to talk to a friend”—not that Caldwell is a friend—“but that’s all I did.”

“And today.” He presses. “Where were you this morning?”

Shit.

“I went on my usual morning walk,” I say smoothly, getting the hang of lying.

“And I had breakfast with the same friend. After that, I came to class and sat with another friend—Amelia.” I can’t trust Caldwell enough to use him as an alibi, but he’s the only one I have.

“You can confirm with my roommate, Margaux Cruz. She saw me last night and this morning.”

“Mr. Mercer.” Professor Cruz finally speaks. “Is there a reason you’re questioning my student? They are in the same danger as everyone else on campus. This feels inappropriate.”

Professor Cruz speaks with a smile on his face, but there’s an edge behind his words. He has a voice that commands respect.

“A professor brought your name up.” The investigator—Mercer?—pauses, looking Professor Cruz up and down. His gaze turns back to mine. “Supposedly, you were late to your dorm last night, and today, you were spotted around the scene. Do you have anything to say about that?”

“I was outside talking to a friend,” I say. “It only took a moment. You can confirm with him.”

“And this morning?” Mercer asks, eyes narrowing.

“Why are you making me repeat myself?” I ask. At least my alibis are real. “Like I said. I was on my morning walk. I take one every morning.”

Mr. Mercer fixes me with a long stare. “Take another route tomorrow morning,” he says. “As your Professor pointed out, these are unprecedented times. Stay out of danger.”

“I will!” I haven’t done anything wrong.

Well, mostly. The pocket watch says otherwise. It doesn’t burn, it doesn’t weigh heavily, but I remember it’s there.

This is the opportunity to hand it over for the investigation. I don’t.

The room falls silent as he leaves, and it stays that way until the footsteps disappear.

“Are you all right?” Professor Cruz asks.

I shake my head, letting out a steady breath. “I didn’t do anything—I swear.”

“I believe you,” he says. “He’s trying to collect information because it’s his job, nothing more. No one is accusing you of anything. But he was right. You shouldn’t be walking around alone. It’s not safe.”

Professor Cruz cares about me. I can feel it in the way he smiles and in the way he defends me to Mercer. In a place where no one cares about me, it feels like one person is looking out for my well-being.

That’s what drives me to take a risk. Margaux already knows. How long will we be able to keep my secret from him?

He’s either going to help, or he’s going to kick me out. I decide to take the chance.

I smile—a nervous, shaky one. “Can I… admit something to you?” I ask.

“Of course,” he says. “You can talk to me about anything. That’ s what I’m here for.”

“I’m… I’m a human, Professor.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “I know.”

My lips part in surprise. “You know?”

“You’re a friend of Margaux,” he says. “You may not have known me, but believe me… I knew everything about you and your family. Margaux’s safety has always been my number one priority. I was never going to buy your story—unless you were attacked by a werecat in the last few months.”

“Oh.”

“I’m won’t tell anyone,” he says. “I’m impressed you managed to get accepted, and without looking into your background. We must have your transcripts to thank for that.”

“My transcripts are the most impressive thing about me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” He moves to his desk, leaning against it, crossing his arms. “Why are you here, Tobey?”

“ Here as in…?” I’m biding time, not particularly keen on answering the question. He knows too much, and I’ve already confirmed way more than I should.

“Strode University,” he says. “You could have a stellar education anywhere. Why are you here? You know the dangers, and you know you’re not our usual type of student. So… why?”

I scratch my cheek. “I want to make sure they catch the murderer,” I say. “I know it’s silly, but?—”

“It’s not,” he says. “You lost your friend, and it may seem as though the murder is connected.”

“The murder is connected.” My jaw tightens. “Don’t tell me you think otherwise.”

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” he says.

That isn’t enough. It’s not an idea. At this point, it’s a fact. The murders on the Strode campus are a pattern, and Poppy died right outside.

I press my lips together, suppressing my words.

“But it’s not safe for you to investigate on your own… or at all,” he says. “You’re not a professional. You could do more harm than good to the case. I can’t let you continue without saying something.”

My stomach sinks. I shouldn’t have told him anything. This is what I get for trusting someone at Strode.

“I understand. I’ll stay away from the case.”

“I’ll keep your secret—for now—but you must promise to be safe. If you happen to find anything, report it to me. Don’t go after it yourself.”

Great. I have to lie to the face of a three-hundred-year-old vampire.

“I will.” My voice is still shaking.

The watch in my pocket feels heavier. Professor Cruz doesn’t know that I already found something—and there’s no way in hell I’m giving it up now.