Book 2 Chapter 45 - You Scratch My Back, I Kill Your Dad
Kind and nice are not the same thing.
In fact, the two concepts only have minor overlap at best.
A kind person cares about others.
A nice person cares about how they are perceived.
A cruel person? They can easily use nice words to draw blood,
then recoil in pain when their victim lashes out.
This was one of Violet Asher’s favorite weapons.
—Daisy Whitaker, “Cruelty in Color”
Violet held Kiera in a tight hug, and the fox shivered in her arms. She had a torrent of emotions running through her as she did.
She hated Samuel. Perhaps more than she'd hated Stephanie. What he’d done to Kiera was so much worse than anything the cowardly lancer had ever done to Violet. And he’d done it for so long. First to Kiera's mother, then to Kiera. He’d used Kiera's admiration for him and her talent against her. He’d murdered her mother and made her watch him do it for years.
As she held the confused and terrified girl, she felt a little of that pain, like a needle in her heart. It bled from Kiera and permeated Violet's skin until she felt like she owned it. It hurt to even imagine being treated that way for so long. It was the type of tragic injustice that was impossible to shake off. It would keep her eyes open at night and her head heavy under the sun. Until she could put it right, Kiera would be in pain and afraid. And Violet would carry a little of that with her. Like the feverish sensation of watching someone else get hurt.
Violet hated Samuel.
But she liked Kiera, and it felt good to offer comfort. It was validating to be so badly needed by another person. Not just as a trophy, like with Alex. And not as a potential chess piece, like her family. But by an actual peer who simply needed someone to hold because they were afraid and upset. And Violet was that person for Kiera. It was a new experience, and she felt pride in the fact.
These emotions stoked each other like bellows and fire, and reinforced Violet's desire to scrub Samuel Mulberry from the earth.
“It’s going to be alright,” Violet whispered.
Kiera's fingers gripped Violet’s shirt as she heard the words. “It wasn't alright for Mom,” Kiera countered.
Violet let out a hot breath and closed her eyes. “Can I trust you?” she asked.
Kiera paused, sniffling and taking a few deep breaths. But she nodded into Violet’s collar after a quiet moment. “I do...” she answered.
Violet tensed at the response, even as the words decorated her ears like gold. She loved Kiera’s trust. But she was also afraid of it. She needed it if her new plan was going to work. But asking for help was a massive risk. What she was about to do was terrifying, and in more ways than Violet expected. She knew the fear of being caught would assault her. She expected it. It was a fear that only cut skin deep, and one she could handle as easily as the pain in her ribcage. She’d broken those ribs multiple times, and they’d always been alright with a little clarity. If the risk didn’t pay off, well. She would be able to handle that.
What truly frightened her was something else entirely. Something that didn’t cut at her skin, but burrowed into her bones like a parasite. It was an emotion she’d grown used to ignoring. One she’d nearly forgotten she still had access to, like a box of family photos left in the attic. But watching Kiera and Samuel interact had cast a light on it, and she couldn’t quite crush it.
She was ashamed.
A state of being she’d banished entirely to her dreams. And as she considered telling Kiera just a little of the truth, she suddenly felt the reality of her choices with more weight than she had since she’d killed Daniel. Perhaps because, if she told Kiera the truth, those actions would be evaluated through another person’s eyes, rather than only her own. She’d easily convinced herself that she was no worse than anyone else. That her public persona was no more fake than anyone else’s. But self-deception was a lot easier in a circle of one.
It didn’t matter. Violet was in control, and a single moment of weakness wouldn’t tame her.
Kiera was the same, after all. Wasn’t she? Disregarded for no reason. Mistreated. Condescended to. And she’d tried to escape the same way Violet had. Given a calling like Reaper, Kiera would do exactly the same thing Violet was. Anyone would, but especially Kiera. The two girls knew how necessary drastic action was more than anyone. Both would be willing to do what it took to not only survive, but to stand above the society that hated them. Just like every other soul spared by the end of the world. Everyone would do it. Violet and Kiera were only different because they were actually justified in doing it.
Kiera may not have been ready to accept the entire truth. About the necessity of everything Violet had done. Kiera wouldn’t see reason all at once. But... Derek? The man who’d tried to kill Violet? The man Violet had killed before escaping, the same way Kiera had? Violet could share that one kill. Without some of the gory details, perhaps. This wasn’t the time or the place for those. But the fact of what had happened. Violet could trust Kiera with that. It would only be fair, after her friend had done the same. Hell, maybe Kiera had more skeletons in her closet, too. Violet would only find out if she took that first leap of faith. And, of course, she didn’t think she could kill Samuel quickly enough without Kiera’s help.
And if Violet was wrong? Well. She knew all of Kiera’s weaknesses.
“I can’t sit by and watch him try to kill you. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I want to stop him, Kiera. And... and I think I actually can,” Violet finally said.
An energy seemed to pulse through Kiera at the words. Like anticipation and worry in a single shift of her muscles. “How?” Kiera practically begged.
Violet paused. Then, she finally dropped her arms to Kiera’s shoulders and gently pushed herself away from the hug. Just enough that her nervous eyes could meet the glass in Kiera’s. One last wave of shame and anxiety ran through her muscles like insects racing under her skin, but she stomped them down. She was Violet Asher, and she was in control. Shame was a weakness she had little time for. “A man tried to murder me once,” Violet confessed. “Just like you. And I escaped... just like you did.”
Kiera’s eyes widened, and her ears seemed to shake as they shifted to an upright position. “Oh my God, Violet... I’m... I’m sorry, I—”
“We have to do it again,” Violet interrupted. “It’s not an easy thing to suggest, but after what I just watched... after the way he treated you? I think... no. I am going to do it again. I promise you I am going to do it again. And you will finally be safe. But I need your help.”
Violet was in an excellent mood. She could feel the change in the way she was perceived. She could see the looks from other students as she walked through the halls with Kiera. Some wore admiration like eyeglasses, resting on their nose and bringing Violet into focus. Others wore the same emotion like jewelry, with the clear intent of drawing Violet’s attention. Some faces were decorated with jealousy instead. Worn proudly or with shame, Violet missed neither.
The rarest emotion was disbelief. Or an arrogant confidence that Violet’s accomplishment was impossible. This took a healthy dose of stupidity, but that was a common flaw in the prideful. Faking the defeat of a queen wasn't a plausible lie, of course. But a handful of people were unable to believe anyone could achieve what they couldn't.
It didn't matter. Every emotion was a different leverage point. What mattered was that they were intense, and they were focused on her. Regardless of what each individual believed, the general sentiment was overwhelmingly positive. She was the focus of nearly the entire school, and she was in control of everyone whispering her name.
It wasn't complete, of course. She was advancing at an unprecedented rate, and she'd killed a queen on her own. Supposedly, a queen several degrees above her. This had made her a legend, of a sort. But she was a new legend. And Chromatic Academy, for all its bluster, was a high school full of high school kids.
For every two students who turned and whispered as she passed, there was one who failed to notice. Some as a result of distraction. One such example was the girl with hair of green crystal, like blades of grass. She was more interested in her bouquet of wilted spider lilies than in any rumors. Others simply didn't care what everyone was talking about. Another girl in a colorful dress was too interested in her book to look up.
That was alright. This was only the beginning. Violet was still orange. She had years left at this school. She'd get her ivy around everyone's throat eventually.
“Hey, I'm gonna stop by the little fox's room real quick,” Kiera said, interrupting Violet’s normal brooding that normal high school girls were prone to.
“Go for it, babe. I’ll just wait here and get stared at for a while,” Violet agreed, stopping as they approached a shared restroom.
Violet couldn't imagine choosing a public bathroom when they’d been in their dorm a few minutes before. But Kiera had still been shaking with nerves, so it made sense her friend hadn't thought about it. If anything, it was surprising how quickly the kitsune had shed that anxiety. Kiera was already carrying herself as if nothing had happened. As if Violet hadn't asked her to help with a murder.
“The price of being hot. It's our burden to bear,” Kiera quipped.
“I think it might be my fight to the death with the nightmare monster, actually. But my hair does look good today, so maybe you’re right,” Violet answered.
“Your hair looks like chronic neck pain to me, but good, yeah,” Kiera agreed.
Violet blew her bangs out of her eyes as she gave Kiera a flat look. “Didn’t you need to pee?” she deadpanned.
“Right, I did. Thanks for keeping me accountable! I’m gonna go do that,” Kiera agreed.
“Maybe you are a good match for Guy after all,” Violet mumbled with a roll of her eyes.
Kiera rushed into the bathroom, her bladder finally managing to overrule her snark. As she did, she bumped into Chase on his way out. She wrinkled her nose as she saw him, and literally stuck her tongue out like a child.
“What the fuck did I do to you?” Chase complained.
Kiera shrugged. “I just noticed you forgot something. Head back in with me; I’ll help you fit your head in the toilet,” she answered. She didn’t wait for an answer, however, and disappeared while Chase blinked.
He looked confused, until he turned to leave—and spotted Violet. His face paled slightly, but he straightened his spine and glowered at her.
She offered a wide smile and lifted one hand, waving with a fluttering curl of her fingers. “Hey, Chase, it’s been a while,” she greeted.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Chase snapped. They were in a common area on academy grounds, so not everyone had the perception to pick up on the noise right away. Just most people. Chase didn’t seem to notice.
But Violet did. “Come on, man. I just want to be friends, like I always have. Why can’t we just be friends?” she asked. She sounded sad as she spoke, and she let her smile slip a little. She paid attention to the whispers around her. And that made it hard to look hurt. Because everything was going well. People recognized her. They’d been talking about her. And as Chase lashed out unprovoked...
Some whispers were angry at Chase. Others were angry at him and jealous of him. The idea that Violet was reaching out and he was rejecting her was incomprehensible to them. It was like she was a celebrity.
“Shut the fuck up. I know what you are. I don’t care how many bullshit rumors you manage to spread about yourself. I don’t care if they are true. I know what you are. Never fucking wave at me again,” he spat.
Violet took a step back. “What I am? Chase, I’m just me. Just as I always have been. I know it’s hard, but we both lost Alex—”
Violet stopped as Chase stepped forward and lifted a hand to slap her. He never made contact, however, as Mr. Clay caught his hand.
“Mr. Cook. I am certain you were not about to assault another student,” Mr. Clay said.
“Keep Alex's name out of your goddamn mouth!” Chase snarled.
Violet pouted and furrowed her brows in a pitying look. “It’s alright, Mr. Clay. He’s just having a hard time. I understand better than anyone why. I’m fine, really. No harm, no foul.”
“I’m afraid I can’t simply overlook assault among the students,” Mr. Clay answered.
Violet smiled and tilted her head as Chase glared at her. “I appreciate your... timely response to the minor threat to my safety,” she said. “I hope it’s so rapid and consistent in the future. Even so. Please, just this once?”
Mr. Clay narrowed his eyes at her, then sighed and let go of Chase’s wrist. “Just this once,” he warned.
Chase rubbed his wrist and glared at Violet.
“Yeah. Fine,” he agreed. He lingered for a moment longer, but as Mr. Clay stared him down, he huffed and stormed past. He nearly shoulder checked Violet as he did, but she stepped aside easily.
Finally, Mr. Clay refocused on the cheerful girl in front of him. “Apologies, Miss Asher. You are correct, of course. Your fight with the queen represents one of the greatest failures of my career. I’m afraid I was delayed by...” He trailed off. He sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t make excuses. It was my failure either way. Thank you. For protecting the class in my stead. I am forever grateful.”
Violet rubbed the back of her neck as Kiera emerged from the restroom.
“What’s the deal here?” the fox asked.
“Mr. Clay was just thanking me for my flawless work,” Violet answered cheerfully.
Mr. Clay sighed. “Unfortunately, no. I was asked to find you by Headmaster Bouvier. Apparently, he urgently needs to speak with you. You are to report to him immediately.”