Page 64 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
The only sound that passes between us is the sound of Margaux setting her mug down.
“You really saw us in this vision?” she asks. “When was this?”
“One month ago,” he says.
“After her death.” I frown thoughtfully. “Your gift would be more helpful if you had visions before the fact.”
His lips twitch into a slight smile. “I’m working on that. My mother had the gift of sight, too, and after she died, my sight became stronger. Clearer. That was only a few months ago.”
“I won’t pretend to understand the gifts of witches,” Margaux says, “and I won’t pretend to trust you.”
“I am not asking for your trust,” he says.
“But,” Margaux continues, “if your sight is true, I think it will be helpful. I can see why Tobey has decided to keep you around.”
I smile weakly. “Thanks, Margaux.”
“Don’t thank me yet. There’s more good news.” She leans in, flashing a dangerous, fanged smile. “Witches are easier to kill than vampires. If you step one toe out of line, if you harm a hair on Tobey’s head… I’ll give a first-hand demonstration of how easy your kind is to kill. Do we have an understanding?”
“You don’t have to worry.” Caldwell doesn’t flinch. He leans in to meet her stare. “I’m not the killer, and I’m as interested in finding them as you are. We can be allies.”
“Fine.” Margaux leans back, crossing her arms. Her attention shifts to me. “Is that fine with you?”
I nod, my fingers twisting together on the tabletop. “As long as we find them, I don’t care what we do or who we have to work with. I’m doing this for Poppy.”
We agree, and even if I don’t know what will happen next… I have one more ally.
Hopefully.
We have bigger things to worry about, but after breakfast, Margaux insists we go to class. She has an important day, or so she claims, running off to the theater before we can stop her. This leaves me alone with Caldwell—something that would have terrified me before now has an entirely different impact.
Our fingers are linked as Caldwell walks me back to class, and though I have no cluewhatwe are, it feels like we’re continuing something we never got an opportunity to start. For once, being close to him fills me with comfort and relief rather than dread. The stroking of his thumb against my knuckles doesn’t send waves of electricity through my body. It’s become a familiar, calming touch.
This is how it could have been all along if I hadn’t jumped to conclusions. Everything makes sense now. Him knowing my favorite books, him staring at me so intently on the first day, and now… we’re here.
“That went better than I expected,” Caldwell says, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “Margaux doesn’t seem to hate me.”
“You’ll know if she hates you,” I say. “But she doesn’t seem tolikeyou either, so… keep your guard up.” There’s a weight off my chest, one that allows me to laugh at my joke.
“Noted.”
“I mean it. I don’t know what Margaux is capable of, so I would take those threats seriously.”
I want to believe Margaux couldn’t harm anyone, but how true can it be? Losing Poppy changed all of us. Something tells me Margaux will do what she must to keep her last friend safe—and that’s me.
I would do the same for her, no matter how rockyour friendship is.
He says, “Don’t worry. I have no intentions of letting my guard down around anyone at this school.”
“Except me?”
He nods. “You are the exception. My vision led me to you, after all.”
“Margaux was in the vision, too, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, but Margaux has fangs,” he says. “And before you go on about the werecat thing, I know it’s a ruse. I’ve known all along.”
“Of course, you did.” I roll my eyes. “It was your vision, right?”
