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boring.” I know the real reason, though. She thinks I have the dagger.
    “You sure about that?” he asks, eyeballing me suspiciously. “Or is there something you know that you’re not telling me, like maybe the reason Vivianne doesn’t like you so much?”
    I keep a neutral expression. “Well, she hates Keepers, and pretty much my entire family belongs to the group.”
    “She doesn’t think too highly of your grandpa, either,” he points out. “And he wasn’t a Keeper.”
    I force down the pain and sadness threatening to choke me. “Most people don’t think too highly of him right now.”
    “Alana, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything. I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on.” His intense gaze burrows into me. “When Vivianne called you into the office that day you found out your grandpa died, you came out looking angry and upset.”
    “I just found out my grandpa died.” My voice cracks. “How else was I supposed to look?”
    “Upset, but not angry.” He waits, as if expecting me to confess. But I can’t tell him about the dagger. If I do, then I’m admitting that my grandpa is guilty of stealing it. I can’t do that, not until I find out the reason he took it.
    “If we’re going to be partners, we have to start trusting each other,” he presses. “Please, just tell me what you know.”
    “Partners?” I elevate my brows. “I thought you were only training me.”
    “You know what I mean. I’m just trying to make a point that, if we’re going to be working together, we have to trust each other. Working on murder cases can get really dangerous.” He carries my gaze, pressing the severity. “I think the mark outside your door proves that.”
    “What are we going to do about that mark? If someone wakes up and sees it—”
    “Don’t change the subject. I want to know what’s going on with you and Vivianne.”
    Hmmm … Do I dare tell him about the dagger? Can I trust him?
    He might be the only one … Just be careful … Don’t tell him where … you hid … it… Grandpa’s voice fades.
    I sigh tiredly, wishing he would stop disappearing on me and tell me the full truth.
    “It’s about the Dagger of Conspectu … Vivianne thinks my grandpa stole it right before he died.”
    “Yeah, I know she does.”
    “How?”
    He lifts a shoulder to give a half-shrug, which looks awkward while he’s lying on his side. “She told me.”
    “Oh.”
    “But is that all she said to you.”
    “Maybe,” I say, heavy with indecision. When he shoots me a fess-up look, I cave. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Vivianne.”
    He easily nods. “I’ve never trusted the woman, but the fact that she just wandered into the forest with the Empress of the Water Fey ...” He shakes his head, his expression hardening. “Let’s just say I’ll be very careful about what information I divulge to her.”
    I swallow down my nerves and cross my fingers I’m not making a huge, epic mistake. “She thinks he gave the dagger to me before he died and that I still have it.”
    “And do you?”
    I stare at the glowing crystal between us, the light blinding, yet I don’t blink. “Maybe.”
    Silence encases us, and my heart beats deafeningly inside my chest. God, I hope I can trust him.
    “Where is it?” he finally asks.
    I bring my gaze to him and put on a determined face. “Someplace safe.”
    He opens and flexes his hand. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
    I offer him an apologetic look. “No. I can’t. Sorry.”
    He frowns. “I just hope you really did put it someplace safe.”
    “I did. And it’s protected by magic, so it should be hard to find.”
    “Good.” He props up on his arm and rests his chin against his hand. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”
    Other than I hear my dead grandpa’s voice in my head? “Nope. But I have a question for you.”
    He casts a fleeting glance at the crystal. The light is fading. We’re