Page 5 of Live To Tell

“Right. We're meeting at the library in an hour.”

“Of course,” he says. “Day one of your new case, Detective Blackwood.”

I know Leif's teasing, but there's still the buzz that runs through me when I consider how I'm the one capable of solving these things.

With help.

“Thank you for the violets,” I say.

For a guy who says he's leaving, Leif hasn't moved any closer to the door. I'm not in tune with people, but my tangling with the three guys means I can read them based on their past actions.

And I can read what's in Leif’s eyes, and why he's paused.

“Are you considering grabbing my backside again, Leif?” I ask.

“Uh. No.” He wriggles his large fingers at me. “I've an art assignment to finish and need these intact.”

Although I didn’t respond with the semi-shriek and hug that Chase received from Holly, I am touched by his gesture. I close the gap between us, the scent of violets from before replaced with his familiar earthiness. Holding his cheeks in both hands, I press my mouth to Leif's and our lips stay together for a few seconds.

Did the shock at my action prevent the eager response I expected? Because Leif doesn't do anything. I edge back and smile at him. Leif touches my lips with a rough index finger.

“You know what, Violet? Your smile's worth more than a kiss,” he says softly, pupils darker.

“Both are scarce commodities.”

He chuckles. “Yeah.”

“Well, you make me smile, Leif.” I straighten my blazer sleeves. “Now. Could you find Rowan and Grayson if possible? Then I'll bring Holly to the library.”

Leif returns my smile and tugs me into one of his semi-suffocating hugs. “You’re hilarious.”

This guy really does like hugging. And bringing me gifts.

Perhaps I need to find a gift for Leif?

Chapter 3

VIOLET

Holly's sunny personality is decidedly cool today, despite my generous invite to our meeting. I'd even say as icy as I often am. Does Holly truly blame me in some way? I definitely saw Marci's explosive side when the dance came to a halt mere hours into the event, as Mrs. Lorcan closed down activities. Some people moved on to hastily arranged parties in the different houses, including Leif, who I encouraged to rejoin his human friends. Grayson? I'm unsure where he went.

Rowan doesn't look any more refreshed after his sleep as he props his head on one hand, elbow on the desk beside his laptop. Leif sits on a chair also looking rather tired and complains about a headache. Grayson remains at a distance—from the desk and me—slumped in a chair at another desk close by, hands in pockets and face also containing less color than usual.

“Did you speak to Sienna?” I ask Holly.

Holly’s definitely less sparkly eyed than usual but still immaculately uniformed and groomed, unlike the rest of our half-hearted efforts. “I didn't need to. The haunted tiara was the sole topic of conversation at breakfast.”

“Haunted?” I scoff. “Cursed, perhaps, but the spirit world does not exist outside of human imagination.”

“'Haunted' by who?” asks Rowan.

“A girl who died,” replies Holly.

Grayson snorts. “Well, obviously, if the humans believe the tiara’s possessed by evil spirits.”

“Which girl?” I throw Grayson a look; the last thing I need is him upsetting Holly.

“As you know, the spirit’s name is Madison, and—”

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