Page 67 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
We have plans to meet with Margaux again, this time with more privacy. We gather in our dormitory—which means nothing, but I’m flushed as I enter the room with Caldwell’s hand in mine. It’s his first time in my room. I wonder if it will be the last…
I need to get my mind out of the gutter. We have important things to focus on.
Margaux rests on her bed with her legs crossed daintily. She watches us with a curious expression. “You’re on time.”
I roll my eyes. “When am I not?”
“Not you,” she says. “Caldwell. You earn a point.”
“You arenotdoing a point system.” I glare at Margaux as I sit on the edge of my bed.
Caldwell stands in the middle of the room before finally settling onto the chair at our shared desk, sitting on it as though he thinks the chair will break.
“We have to work as a team,” I say. “If you two are going to be at each other’s throats, this is never going to work.”
“I’m not at anyone’s throat.” Margaux lifts her hands. “In fact, I’m starving, so if we could make this meeting a quick one… I have a werewolf to meet with.”
“You’re still seeing him?” I lean in. “How does he taste?”
Caldwell clears his throat.
“Let’s focus,” he says, watching Margaux with a levelexpression. “We have to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
“And we have to hope we have enough information to work with.” I frown.
Even with the three of us working together, it feels like we have nothing. We’ve already lost our only suspect. Having Caldwell on our side is helpful, but now we’re directionless.
“Let’s start with you,” Margaux says, nodding at Caldwell. “You have the gift of sight. What has it told you?”
“I already shared the brunt of it, but…” He sighs. “I was told to come to Strode and that I was needed to investigate a murder?—”
“You were told?” Margaux repeats. “By your visions?”
Caldwell hesitates. “Yes.”
Margaux hums under her breath. “All right. Carry on.”
“All I know,” he says, “is that the deaths are… deeper than they appear. It’s not just a hungry vampire or a power-hungry witch. There’s something else for us to discover.” He presses his lips together. “The vision pointed me to Tobey and confirmed Poppy is connected to the on-campus murders. That’s all I have.”
It isn’t much, but it’s more than we had before. I’m pleased.
Margaux isn’t.
“That’s all?” She scoffs. “Typical witches…”
“Excuse me?” Caldwell’s eyes narrow.
“Your gifts are fickle,” she says. “It’s a well-known fact that sight is nearly impossible to control, and false visions are common. I’ve never met a witch who can stare into a crystal ball and choose to see. It always happens so… sporadically.”
“Our visions come when they are needed,” he says evenly. “Not a moment before or after.We’re taught to trust the timing of these things. I wonder if you were taught trust at all.”
“Enough!” I stand with my hands on my hips. “If you two are going to bicker, I’m going back to doing this alone.”
Caldwell settles down, his posture shifting. Margaux does not. She’s as stiff as she was when we appeared.
“I don’twantto bicker,” Caldwell mutters.
