Page 24 of Dead and Gone

Why does he look so doubtful? I lean across the table. "If you know who I am, you're aware of my reputation. I may not be a killer, but a lot of people are wary of myunpredictability."

He pauses, glancing around the café. "And if I agree to this?"

"Then we have a mutually beneficial situation." I smile.

"She likes to correct wrongs, Mr. Wright." Rowan chuckles, amused by himself.

"I do." I stand. "I won't shake hands on our deal as I dislike physical contact with all but a select few, but rest assured your mole will return to its rightful place before the week ends."

As he agrees, the curator looks at me as if he just made a bargain with the devil.

But this man knows more. Eitherhehid the jewels in a locked museum exhibit, or the alleged supes who stole the watch returned, unlocked the cabinet, and put them there.

Why?

Whoever did this, the curator never mentioned the missing box; therefore, he didn't visit the museum before we did today. But how long before somebody looks inside and discovers the missing jewels? And is that somebody the curator—or a witch hiding magical items?

11

Thick clouds shroud the sky,a few pin-prick stars managing to peek through, but the moon fails to shine. Grayson hunches over, hands deep in his pockets, watching me wander from gravestone to gravestone. I've already checked out several small mausoleums at the top of the sloping cemetery. I recognized a couple of the founding families' names, but none had the Redridge name attached.

Much of the graveyard contains modern headstones, many with flowers deposited in front of the shining black marble, but I need the graves of the forgotten. My search takes me to the rear, close to the bottom of the sloped ground. The weathered gray stones hide the names and inscriptions behind moss, which I wipe away.

"Can I ask a question, Violet?" asks Grayson as he rests his backside on an old gravestone. I nod. "Why not visit in the daytime?"

"We were busy today. This is my first chance." I peer at the name.Robertson.Huffing, I move to the next. "Besides, this is en route to our rendezvous with Rowan and Leif."

"Could've come here tomorrow?"

I look around. "Are you scared of graveyards at night?"

He scoffs. "You know that isn't true."

"You wanted to spend time together before we met up with the others." I kneel and pick at moss to read the epitaph.Granville.

"Um. I didn't mean in the graveyard. Private time alone."

"We might find something useful in here," I say.

He pulls a face. "By examining every one of the dozens of old graves?"

"Yes."

"Ugh." Grayson pulls himself to stand again and wanders away, sitting on a wooden bench beneath the willow tree. He places his boots on the seat and draws his knees to his chest, Grayson's dark figure part-hidden by the branches that almost touch the ground.

"Planning an ambush?" I ask him.

"You know the only people I attack now are assholes who bully others," says the voice from behind the branches.

Happy that Grayson stopped distracting me, I continue my search.

Most people wouldn't hear the sound of soft-soled shoes on the dirt close to a nearby mausoleum, but a vampire hybrid can. I train my hearing on figuring out which direction, but the footsteps stop. Nobody approaches, and I move along to the next stone, pretending I'm unaware.

Can Grayson see from his vantage point?

I wipe at two more gravestones. Still no Redridge.

Whatever or whoever lurks near the mausoleum remains, and I stand, straighten, and look in their direction. I only catch a glimpse before they dart around the corner—a tall figure wearing concealing dark clothes.

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