Page 29 of Validus Vale Academy 1
Nah. The twins loathed their parents. Wes and Donovan spent their childhood with tutors and nannies at the family estate in Southernhampton, while their doctor parents worked on unsavory eugenics research for the Havengard Department of Witches Registration.
The dud’s mouth keeps opening and closing, trying to form words, but I keep her cut off. My brain is a frantic mess, tryingto map out what to do next. That’s when I remember Striker, the best investigator on this coast. Sure, she also works for The Conclave, but her loyalty lies with cold, hard cash, not them. And I can pay her exceedingly well.
Without a second thought, I fire off a message.
ME:PRIORITY JOB - NO $ LIMIT
Striker’s reply flashes back almost instantly.
STRIKER:machete - midnight - cash
ME:Tonight?
STRIKER:<:-|
Fucking Striker, she always plays this stupid emoticon game with me. I turn my phone on its side and still can’t make out what that's meant to mean.
ME:TONIGHT?
STRIKER:Y
Hmm, going to Machete tonight sounds like just what the doctor ordered. Machete is the only bar-slash-fight club in the area. I’ll be able to fill Striker inandwork off a little steam.
“C-c-cosmo,” A garbled whisper comes from the dud’s lips.
My head snaps up. How the fuck can she speak? In a strangled voice that sounds like it’s being dragged across gravel, she tries to continue, “D-Dart…”
My interest piques. I release my hold on her vocal cords, granting her permission to speak. Her words tumble out in a rushed, disjointed mess.
“D-d-dean Dartmouth. None of this makes sense. The dean, he told me. The twins. I had to… stop pestering them. Said I was stalking. You see, I’d written to the school, trying to get in touch…”
Dartmouth?
“Slow down. What the fuck are you talking about, dud?” My voice is sharp.
I watch her try to calm down. It looks like she’s doing some kind of hippy breathing exercise. I leave her to it for a minute, then snap my fingers. “Speak.”
“Yes, O-o-K. What I meant was, the dean before Crankshawe, the one who retired…”
“Dartmouth,” I supply.
She nods. “Yeah, him. He told me I had to stop trying to contact the twins or the school would file a restraining order. You see, I emailed the school, a w-week or t-two after I g-got home,” she stutters, her breath catching in her throat. “I just couldn’t believe they were ghosting me; it felt like something was wrong. So I contacted the dean. But if Donovan and Wes weren’t even here at the time. Cosmo, why would Dean Dartmouth say that? I don’t understand?”
I ignore both the dud and the tears running down her face and think about the ex-dean. What had he been covering up? What the fuck was going on? “Forward me the email you got from Dartmouth,” I command.
She takes her phone out and fiddles around until I hear the whoosh sound. “Cosmo…” she whispers. “Wh-wh-what about you? When was the last time you saw them? Heard from them?”
I decide to answer, just in case her little brain holds another piece of this fucked-up puzzle. “It was the day after you left. They’d shoved all their crap into storage and were heading off to England. I said they were weak, pussy-blinded idiots, not worthy of being Elites.” I wince when I think of the bitter words I’d flung at my brothers. “Then I told them not to bother contacting me until they’d got their shit together. That’s where we left it.”
Her brow furrows with visible effort, and she pushes out more words. “M-m-must… speak t-to p-p-police…”
“STOP,” I tighten my mental grip, silencing her again.
The police? Absolutely not. Involving the authorities is not part of my plan. I’m going to find Dean Dartmouth and drag the truth out of him myself, whatever it takes, and that could get messy as hell.
“C-c-cosmo?”
The dud is still stuttering. If she can withstand even a sliver of my control, there’s more to her than meets the eye, and that presents me with a problem. Simply compelling her silence clearly isn’t enough; I can’t risk her running around, blabbing my business to anyone who’ll listen. And if the twins are in trouble, this is one hundred percent my damn business.
