Page 24 of Live To Tell

“The magic taps into the human’s psyche, causing odd behavior.” Whitegrove slices a look at Violet. “But evidently doesn’t affect hybrids. Hand over my belonging.”

“Have you seen proof of ownership, Mrs. Lorcan?” asks Violet. “Because I do believe my father should take this tiara, not a random witch.”

“Random?” His jaw sets tight. “The tiara belongs to the Whitegroves. I’d like to take the item back to safety and away from any more attempted thefts.”

“Dorian had no reports this was stolen,” says Violet. “Therefore, I don’t believe you.”

He blows air into his cheeks. “The item disappeared almost thirty years ago.”

“But Dorian’s council holds a record of all artifacts missing and spends time tracking them down,” I say. I’m half-inclined to believe the tiara is Whitegrove, but don’t believe his story about protective curses. “They would’ve identified the ‘Whitegrove tiara’.”

“Unless you never reported this heirloom missing?” suggests Violet. “Now why would that be?”

“Sometimes, it’s disadvantageous if another witch family knows one has misplaced a powerful item.” Whitegrove holds out a broad hand, showing the Circle signet featuring an eye with six lines resembling eyelashes. “Give me the tiara. Now.”

Violet holds the tiara behind her back.

“Violet. Please do as Mr. Whitegrove says.” Mrs. Lorcan sidles around from behind the desk and my scalp prickles.

Has he threatened the headmistress? Mind control? Not one person mentioned this tiara belonging to the Whitegroves—or is missing—yet suddenly he steps forward with a claim and the headmistress just hands the tiara to him?

“Your father is welcome to contact me regarding the item and discuss the matter, but if he’s inspected the tiara in the past, he knows there’s nothing sinister.”

“Mmm hmm,” says Violet, tiara still behind her back. She’s itching to ask about the name. The bloody message. The people in the photograph. “And you’ve no inkling who stole this from you?”

“Where did you find the tiara?” he bats back.

Violet smiles sweetly. “Where are you taking the tiara now?”

“Somewhere safe. Away from humans. Witches.” He pauses. “Nosey hybrids.”

“Did you hear about the recent murders in this locality?” she asks him, and I swear he’s about to grab Violet and swipe the tiara from her hands. “Or do you hold any interest in home renovations?”

“What?” He frowns. “Oh. Yes, I know stupid witches were caught after failed experiments with shifters, but no, I don’t personally redecorate my house, and can’t see the relevance.”

Failed experiment? How much does he know—the necromancy? Because there’s a bloody big coincidence that the thief hid this at Sawyer’s place.

“Did you know the witches concerned?” continues Violet.

“I could reprimand you for asking impertinent questions, but that would no doubt increase your obvious suspicion of me.” His lip curls. “I have no connections to the culprits.”

“Or the victims, or intended victim?”

Mr. Whitegrove sighs heavily and turns to Mrs. Lorcan. “Inform the girl she needs to hand over my stolen possession and that if she has any questions, tell her father to direct them via my attorney.”

She straightens. “Josef Petrescu, by any chance?”

The witch chokes. “I like to stay under the radar, not center myself. I have absolutely no dealings with any vampires. My business remains witch and human focused.”

“Violet,” Mrs. Lorcan interrupts. “Mr. Whitegrove is head of a respected witch family.”

“I am aware. I researched the Circle and recognize his name.” Violet tips her chin. “A family name without the tiniest misdemeanor attached for over a hundred years.”

“Then you’ll know that your father’s council has no dealings with me either. I have no reason to vex him—my life and business operate perfectly under his governance. Now humans accept us, that’s also a boon to my business. I don’t wish for a change in that status quo.”

Violet’s teeth grind as she looks at me, and I shrug. “You’re lying. An incident has occurred, and Dorian does not appreciate interference in his investigations. He will look for you and the tiara, and if you don’t cooperate with my father, this won’t end well for you.”

I’m taken aback when the guy snatches the tiara from Violet’s hands, his nostrils flaring. “You are an insolent, rude girl who is most certainly her father’s daughter. If Dorian wants peace amongst the witches, or aid in digging deeper into that society, he will cooperate with me.”

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