Page 33 of Live To Tell

“When?” she asks sharply.

He gives her a long look. “When you’ve spoken to Dorian and kept your promise not to say anything about me.”

She nods. “Understood.”

“Now, excuse me. I have to go.” He looks between us, worry in his expression—regret that he’s told us all this?

But he had to. If not now, at some point. The tiara’s appearance and disappearance pulled him towards a new lead in his sister’s disappearance. If the man spent his life searching and failing, he’d grasp at anything to help.

Mr. Woodside may not want Dorian to know his name, but he does know that Violet’s connection is his new hope.

Chapter 11

VIOLET

Dorian taps his fingers on his desk, eyes trained on the bookshelf behind me, thoughts elsewhere. Is he even listening to me?

“You won’t help me get the tiara back?” I ask tersely.

“No. My people already investigated the item and there’s nothing significant.”

“Apart from I found it at Sawyer’s factory?”

“Violet. There’s no hint of energy from the witches involved in the murders or Sawyer around that tiara. I am looking at Rowan’s photos of the papers found with the tiara, which make little sense as of yet.”

“You need to look at the tiara again, Dorian!” I retort.

“And I said, I have more important matters,” Dorian replies through clenched teeth. “Now you bring me news that someone important in the academy may be responsible for stealing and hiding your potion. That is another concern and requires immediate investigation.”

“But I need this tia—”

“Violet,” he interrupts, sighing out the word. “Whatever that tiara’s story, there’s no link to the much bigger issues at hand. Perhaps a tragic death did occur over thirty years ago, and maybe someone linked to the Sawyer family was involved, but chasing after something with no proof, but a mind-addled human isn’t important at all. What is important is the issues between shifters and humans—and the explosion once the elders discover what the witches have done.”

“Didn’t the witches ‘mind-controlling’ shifters to kill already detonate the bomb beneath the shaky bridge between the two?” I ask.

“Yes, hence my focus on avoiding a war by treading carefully around the necromancy issue and finding the culprits, not tenuous links between jewelry and a girl’s possible murder.”

Why won’t Julius Woodside allow us to explain? I understand the fear for his safety, but at least if he spoke to Dorian, my father might at least divert some attention that way.

“Whitegrove is a Circle leader. If I’m to investigate this without your help, I require a membership for the Circle.”

“I have nothing to do with that organization,” he replies, turning his glacial eyes to mine.

“That’s a lie.” Those eyes narrow. “You must have somebody ‘on the inside’ otherwise you would never discount them as quickly regarding the town deaths and necromancy.”

“Yes, Violet. And the whole point of having someone ‘on the inside’ involves not alerting anybody to that fact.” He leans back in his expensive leather chair and places his bare feet on the desk. “Sometimes life’s easier if you give others the illusion they’ve autonomy. Bored, rich witches defrauding humans amuses rather than concerns me.”

I clench my teeth as the frustration washes over me. “Why won’t you help?”

“Fine. Perhaps your witch could apply for membership?” asks Dorian, mouth partly curved in amusement.

“They take applications?” I frown. Rowan never told me this.

“With a recommendation. I’ll see what I can do.”

“By asking your ‘insider’?” I arch a brow.

Dorian takes a coin from the table and flicks it in the air, repeatedly, an odd habit he’s had as long as I remember. “But you can’t send Rowan in to steal from them, and Whitegrove is astute enough to know he might. They have rules and deal with transgressions unpleasantly, I hear.”