Page 10 of The Diamond in the Rough

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.” It was something Ward said sometimes when he was out of answers or, sometimes, when the questions became inane or invasive. Parikh’s questions weren’t inane or invasive.

Parikh sighed. “No names for me?”

I shook my head. “Most people don’t think about their own names. Other people, sometimes. Like the woman, who thought about Simon.”

He ran a hand through his hair again. “We know who the victim is,” he replied, his voice tight and clipped. “It’s theother two we need to find.” He let out a short breath through his nose. “Can you get more if you try again?”

“I—I don’t know.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t like the way reading objects made me feel—clammy, a little nauseous, my heart racing. And I didn’t like being in someone else’s head. It was disorienting and uncomfortable.

But if trying again might get me more…

Swallowing back the disgust at the back of my throat, I reached out and grasped the necklace again.

Gasping for air…

The syllables feltstrange on his tongue, like he’d not quite gotten used to them yet. Like they weren’t meant for his mouth. But he would make them belong. Make himself stronger, more powerful. He would use the magic to make himself better.

He would have to give the necklace back—he knew that. It was too valuable, too precious, both in terms of the stones that made it up and in its capacity to aid their cause. But what it could do with his casting…

He could slowly bleed her dry, and she wouldn’t know until it was too late.

He gently laid the necklace back in its small, red velvet box.

And that was allthere was. Because then he’d stopped handling the necklace and hadn’t—I was fairly certain—picked it up again.

Parikh was looking at me expectantly.

I cleared my throat, trying to make space for words. “Hemeant to drain her magic so that he could get more powerful.”

“But you still can’t tell me who he is.” It wasn’t really a question.

“No,” I confirmed.

“Or who he was working for.”

“Not specifically.”

Those amber-gold eyes narrowed. “Not…specifically?”

I blinked. “No?”

He tilted his head slightly to one side. “Why say it that way?”

I thought about this. “Because he was working for someone, but I don’t know who that someone is.”

Parikh leaned forward. “But hewasworking for someone?” There was a bit of an edge to the question.

“Yes.”

He started at me, then huffed slightly. “And how do you know that?” he asked, his voice taking on the same kind of tone that Ward’s sometimes did when I’d missed something.

I frowned. “Because he thought about having to return the necklace.”

“But he would have to be returning it to the person who made it, correct?”

“It could be,” I said slowly, but it didn’t feel right.