Page 14 of Live To Tell

Definitely my missing potion. I screw the lid back, jaw tight, losing the calm that I’d managed to instill in myself after our encounter with Mrs. Eldridge. A clue. “Who has access to that room apart from the librarian? Mrs. Lorcan? Anybody else?”

“I don't know. Very few people and only important ones.”

“Well, now I have a culprit for stealing this.” I shake the bottle at him. “The same person who drew the runes in Wesley's room.”

But who? Why would Mrs. Lorcan take my potion? The last thing she'd want is bloodshed at her academy—the hemia cause enough problems without adding in a feral hybrid. The librarian? She would need a key to my room too. I place the bottle in a pocket. “I hope somebody notices that it's missing. I want to see what happens—who behaves suspiciously.”

Rowan sits beside me. “Yeah. I hope somebody doesn't notice this is missing.”

He pulls a familiar stone from his jacket pocket. The only light in the room comes from Rowan's desk lamp, but the black object now glows a soft white as if its own light source.

This time, I hold out a hand to take hold, but Rowan curls his into a fist around the stone. “This belongs to me.”

“Like the library book when we first met?”

“That was Willowbrook spells. This is Willowbrook power.”

I blink at him, not liking the harsh way he said 'power'. “As I said earlier, power that’s dangerous in the wrong hands, Rowan.”

“Best not give the stone to you then,” he teases.

“I only want to take a look. Is that a problem?” I ask.

Something odd crosses his face—a pinch of distrust to his brow before he shoves the stone back into his jacket. “Later. Let’s talk about tonight.”

“This is like the library book.” I say with suspicion.

“Figuring out what happened tonight is important. It’s late. Let’s come up with some theories and plan our next move before you go. I thought that would be your immediate aim. We’ve a clue.”

Go? The guy often stalls to keep me in his room as long as I’m prepared to stay. “Rowan. What's wrong with me examining your stone?”

He drags a hand through his hair. “Other witches aren’t supposed to touch this, okay?”

“Not even the witch you’re bonded to?”

“Just leave it, Violet,” he snaps. “I wouldn’t have shown you if I’d known you’d get weird about it.”

Heat flares on my cheeks. “Me weird about it?”

“Anyway, we need to look into the librarian further,” he continues. “I didn’t find any information about the tiara in library books—what if Mrs. Eldridge hid something?”

“Yes. If she takes the tiara, I’ll be extremely annoyed.” Understatement. “Stop changing the subject. You’re behaving like the irritating witch I met in the library the day I arrived. What are you deflecting?”

“Where’s my thanks for finding your potion?” he bats back.

“Thank you. Now tell me why you’re so possessive of the stone—or is it possessive of you?”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Then why the sudden personality change?” His eyes narrow. “Show me the stone or I won’t believe you.” They become slits. “I won’t touch.”

Just when I think he’ll ignore me, Rowan pulls the stone from his pocket.

I lied.

Lurching towards him on the bed, I grab at the stone, my reflexes faster than his, but Rowan's grip of the object is tight. “What the hell, Violet?”

“Let me look.”

---