Page 45 of Live To Tell

“Nah. Well, yeah, I mean fireworks once Sawyer finds Kai,” says Leif.

“They’re responsible for the fireworks? And you’re not concerned someone may sabotage them?” I ask. “I did consider supernatural threats, but not threats created by items used for entertainment purposes that could maim them.”

Rowan shakes his head. “No. When Sawyer explodes at Kai for being a naughty boy.”

“Then why not just say that?” I ask. “I’ve enough to worry about without considering other dangers or deciphering nuances.”

“Drink?” asks Leif.

I hesitate. “Perhaps I should make some notes or follow Kai.”

“C’mon, Violet. You haven’t scouted the whole venue yet or identified every guest. Surely you want the opportunity to gather more names and information?”

Leif does have a very good point.

Chapter 15

VIOLET

Leif and Rowan conclude I never drink alcohol merely because I refused in the past. I do, in moderation, partly because I don’t like the taste of most varieties and also because the intoxicating properties don’t affect me. Witch potions and herbs? Yes. Distilled beverages? No.

I stand at the small bar situated between two of the function rooms, and while Leif and Rowan acquire drinks, I’m on the lookout for Grayson. I haven’t seen him since we arrived. Was he ejected for failing to meet the dress code as Chase predicted?

Sawyer plans for Kai to sign legal contracts publicly at the party. Legal. Sawyer wouldn’t invite Josef. Not with Dorian as another guest. Surely. Is the guy still his attorney? I wouldn’t be surprised. After all, he supposedly helped save Kai that night in the warehouse.

No. Josef wouldn’t be dumb enough to come tonight. The bastard’s in hiding and this wouldn’t be the best place to reappear. Even if the human detectives are prepared to let their doubts go, Dorian won’t.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Rowan and point towards one of the rooms. “I want to find Grayson. Just in case Josef is around.”

He nods and turns away before he misses the bartender’s attention.

The first room I look into contains quiet and adults, with a small podium towards the back beside a table with a cake. Much of the hotel has been restored to original Edwardian fashion that I’ve seen in other witch houses. Whereas my parents’ home holds a dark and cluttered Victorian aesthetic, the polished floors and light-colored walls open the room. There’re modern touches amongst the mahogany furniture and ornate cornices, such as the round table my bored father sits at. He looks odd on a chair with silver ribbons tied around and runs his thumb around the rim of a glass of whiskey—his drink of choice, always. Eloise stands nearby talking to an elderly lady who bears a resemblance to Kai’s mother.

I almost stay to watch and listen to Sawyer and his wife’s agitated conversation, but they’re only speaking about Kai’s behavior. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Instead, I pass several groups clustered together holding glasses of wine or beer bottles like Kai’s. Most are human and one or two definitely startle as I walk by, even without touching them. Must be my ‘vibe’ that Holly informs me repels people. Charming.

The second room contains the man playing the music—a DJ, apparently, and I suppose better than being subjected to a band like at ‘the event that shall not be named’. Although he’s rather too excited by his unusual task and appears desperate for attention from those gathered.

I cover my ears as I pass one of the monstrous speakers he brought to the party.

Teens dance in a space cleared of tables, and wine splashes from glasses onto the floor as I watch. Hmm. I’m not sticking around to face accusations when the idiotic kids break their necks from slipping on their own mess.

I flick a look around the darkened room, easily making out those who the witches or humans wouldn’t see. Where the last room filled with calm—if you discount the Sawyers—this one contains chaotic energy fueled by the now recognizable mix of alcohol and hormones.

No Grayson, but Holly’s standing with Chase in a corner. At least, I think it’s Holly since she’s against the wall partly squashed by him. I march over and interrupt their little tryst, noting Chase’s untucked shirt, and his mussed hair that Holly’s gripping.

“Have you seen Grayson?” I ask loudly.

Chase goes entirely still, then withdraws from Holly, throwing me a look. She leans against the wall, breathless and pink-cheeked, and she adjusts her dress.

Good grief.

“No,” she says crossly. “Violet...”

“‘Violet what’?” I point at the side of her dress. “The zipper appears to have slipped.”

Rubbing her lips together, Holly tugs at the zipper and a silent communication comprising of head gestures and mouthed words between her and Chase then follows.

Chase walks away.

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