Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Quint nodded his head at them when they reached the exit and then left them to locate his motorcycle.
Graves held it together long enough to get up the stairs and back out onto Madison Avenue. Kierse and Lorcan flanked him, keeping watchful eyes on the shadows that lingered too long in the night. It had been a few years since she’d felt this exposed in her city.
The next two blocks felt interminable until they met an unmarked black van on the corner. The door slid open at their approach to reveal a Druid, her hair in a severe bun. Maureen looked out at them with her mouth open and eyes wide as she said, “You have to be fecking kidding me.”
“Maureen, you remember Kierse, right?”
“Sure, you won’t shut up about her,” Maureen said. But her eyes were on the rather damaged warlock behind Kierse. “No problem with her. He’s the one I have a problem with.”
“Join the club,” Graves muttered.
“We’re driving them home. Don’t ask questions,” Lorcan said.
Maureen opened her mouth and then closed it. “Going to have a ton of ’em later.”
Kierse barely managed to not laugh. “Do you only associate with women who back-talk you?”
“No woman should always agree with a man,” Maureen said as she offered Kierse her hand and pulled her inside.
Graves all but fell next to her, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling as Lorcan closed the sliding door in their face. The drive was silent and tense save for Graves’s labored breathing.
Luckily, at this time of night, the streets were mostly empty, and they made good time to the Upper West Side. Of course, Maureen didn’t need instructions to Graves’s place. The Druids were always watching his activity, which was how they’d come after Kierse in the first place.
She screeched to a halt in front of the building and said cheerily, “Here’s your stop.”
“Thank you,” Kierse said and meant it.
Lorcan stepped out and opened the back door again. Graves came uneasily to his feet, straightening and looking his enemy in the eye. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t thank him for the assistance. He stared at him a moment and then proceeded toward the stoop that led up to his brownstone.
Kierse jumped out after him. She began to walk after Graves, but Lorcan grasped her wrist. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Her eyes were still on Graves. He hadn’t stopped, but he’d stiffened at the sound of Lorcan’s voice.
“What?” she asked.
Lorcan pulled the ledger from his jacket. “I’d be happy to keep this.”
She sighed. She was really out of her depth tonight because she had forgotten it. She was too worried about Graves to have even remembered this was the reason they’d gotten into this mess to begin with.
She reached for it, and he pulled it back an inch.
“You could come back with us,” he said.
“You know I’m not going to do that.”
“There’s so much more that we could do together.” His eyes raked her expression, hopeful. “So much more the bond can give us.”
“I’ll be happy to have my magic back and the ledger in my hand,” she said, holding it out.
He set it into her grasp but didn’t let go. “We were a good pair tonight.”
“Lorcan,” she said on a sigh.
“You can admit it.”
“We were.” She glanced back at Graves, who had made it to the door.
Lorcan pulled her a touch closer. “I’m always here if you need me.” His fingers touched her temple, and she pulled back. “There’s a reason it felt so right tonight. And you and I both know it.”
She looked away from him, because he wasn’t wrong. And walking away from him was harder than it ever had been. She forced herself to yank the ledger out of his hand and take another fortifying step back. “Got it. Good night, Lorcan.”
“Good night, chuisle mo chroí.”
She winced at the Irish term for soulmate and hoped Graves didn’t hear. Then Lorcan winked at her and jumped back into the van. Maureen waggled her fingers at them before pulling away.
When Kierse glanced back, Graves was already inside, and the door was closed behind him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Graves?” Kierse called as she entered the brownstone.
Banging came from the library, and that’s when she noticed the trail of blood leading up the stairs. She was thankful that Walter was fast asleep, having had no way of doing surveillance at the party.
She jogged up to the second floor and followed the tracks, only to find Graves on the ground next to his liquor cabinet. The door was swung wide, but instead of the array of liquor she expected to find, she saw a concealed vault.
She’d failed as a thief. She’d never known it was there.
He yanked the door open, and inside was a well-stocked refrigerator full of various-size potions in crystal goblets. He yanked out one the color of tar, unstoppered the top, and drank the thick, viscous thing down in one long pull.