Page 112 of Taste of Thorns

“She’s been murdering students from Granite, Iron, and Slate Quarters. Students who show promise or talent. It’s why she attacked me. She must have known about the lumomancy – or at least suspected it.”

“What?” Dray says, scratching his head. “What makes you think all this?”

“Professor Cornelius said it was the most talented students who seem to die most often. Which makes no sense. It’s the students with no talents and no abilities who should be most likely to die.”

“Maybe,” Thorne says, not sounding convinced.

“And then there were the trinkets I found in her office. Belongings of the students she killed. Mementos of her killings.”

“How the hell did you find those?” Beaufort asks.

“I broke into her office.”

Beaufort leaps to his feet. “Are you out of your mind?”

“No one would believe me – you wouldn’t believe me. I needed proof.”

“We believe you now,” Thorne says, then peers around at his bond brothers. “Don’t we?”

“Yes,” Beaufort says, as Dray nods.

“Beau’s visions don’t lie,” Dray says.

“I need to tell Fox.” I start towards the door.

“I’ll get him,” Dray says, moving to block my way. “You stay here.”

“But I want–”

“We need to talk about this together, as a collective, Briony,” Beaufort says.

“Like you did with Henrietta and her information,” I hiss.

He places his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together. “You’re right. That was a mistake. I should have told you what I was doing and why.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“We’ve been going about this all wrong. Each going off in different directions. Doing our own investigations. When we should’ve been working together,” Thorne says. “We’re stronger when we work together.” He peers down at his wrists. “And I suspect it’s what fate wants.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Dray

“I don’t get it,” I say, swinging my gaze around the small group gathered in the kitchen of our tower – me, my bond brothers, little Kitten, and the Prof.

It’s taken us most of the morning to track down the elusive professor and most of the afternoon seems to have been lost in conversations that go round and round in circles. It’s already darkening outside the windows.

“We know it’s Bardin who’s been attacking Briony,” I add. “We know she’s been manipulating the trials.”

“We think it was her,” Tudor clarifies, “we don’t know for sure.”

“Oh, come on,” little Kitten says, rolling her eyes as she paces the room, “Beaufort saw her murder my sister in his vision.”

Tudor leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yesterday Beaufort was convinced usurpers were behind the attacks.”

“Then I had that vision,” Beaufort says, glaring at the professor. “Now, I’m convinced the Madame was behind the attacks, including the one in the forest.”

“That was the Hardies’ thrall,” the professor clarifies, irritating me so much my teeth tingle. We’re playing nicely with him for the time being because it’s what the kitten wants. But I don’t trust him one hundred percent, especially when he seems to be sticking up for Bardin.