Page 57 of The Diamond in the Rough

She flicked her gaze up. “Red,” she whispered, fear crossing her features. Death magic was a part of me—Ward said he could always see it, even if I wasn’t using it. He said the same was true of Mason’s magic, although his was green for healing and nature. Fire was orange, water a bright cerulean blue, air white, and earth magic a darker greenthan Mason’s. Arcane magic—like Hart’s or a shifter’s like Raj—was gold. Spirit, which Ward and Beck both used, was royal blue. Apparently mine was pale, pale blue, almost white, when I was experiencing someone’s memories.

I nodded. “That’s why they sent me away,” I said softly. “Because I’m a death witch.”

“And a psychic?”

I nodded again. I decided not to mention being a dreamwalker. It felt like that might overwhelm her. “They wanted to… make menota death witch,” I told her.

“Can you do that?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, but that didn’t stop them from trying.”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” I told her, even though her existence was, in fact, part of why I’d ended up there. She hadn’t made the decision to be conceived—even if I had been protecting both her and my mother, Violette bore no responsibility either for my actions or for their consequences.

“I know but—” She bit her lip. “I… should have known. I think maybe part of me always did.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart rate picking up.

“I mean… I always felt like I wasn’t alone. Like someone was looking out for me. Keeping me safe.” She swallowed. “The ring I showed you,” she said. “Mother gave it to me when I was younger and told me my uncle was watching over me in death.” She frowned. “I believed her at first, but I started to wonder. Things I found, papers, pictures, some of the books of magic in the library… It didn’t add up. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who wouldprotect.”

“He wasn’t.”

“But you are,” she said, and she didn’t make it seem like a question.

I shrugged. “I tried, when I was still at home,” I half-whispered.

“Did… were you there when I was born?”

I shook my head. “No. Our mother was pregnant with you, though.”

Violette swallowed. “He tried to hurt Mother, didn’t he?” she asked. “And me.”

I nodded.

“So you hurt him.” That also wasn’t a question.

I nodded again.

“Good,” she rasped.

“May I—” I hesitated.

“What?” she asked, leaning forward almost eagerly.

“Ask how they died?” She’d said they both died, and in a way that made it sound like they’d died at the same time.

Violette let out a long breath. “Car accident,” she answered. “They were coming home late from some stupid ritual, it was raining, and a pickup crossed the center line.”

I nodded, feeling nothing for the two people whose genetics had made up my DNA. Who had given me the magic they despised. Who had sent me to have that magic stripped from me again and again.

Who apparently had never known that the ‘treatment’ they paid for had ended and the facility shut down.

Which meant that someone out there was still pretending to be Tranquil Brook.

Maybe still wanted to revive it.

I looked at Violette. “Would your lawyer give me the number he called to make sure my ‘care’ continued?” I asked her.