Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Kierse felt the sting of Estelle’s words. She had assumed that if she lost, the truth would hurt, but even in winning the truth Estelle imparted was painful.
She had thought that she was in on the game this time. That they’d planned it together. Only now was it obvious that he’d kept part of the strategy to himself. Once again she had fallen right into his trap. The whole thing was exhausting.
Estelle held out the envelope. “Your prize.”
Kierse snatched it out of her hand. “This better be worth it.”
“And what would be worth it, to you?”
Kierse didn’t have an answer for that. But either way, she was done here.
“My jewelry.” Estelle held her hand out.
Kierse sighed and then dropped the ring and diamond bracelet in her palm. “If you insist.”
“And the coin.”
“You said jewelry,” Kierse said with a dangerous smile.
“I should have been more specific.”
Kierse flipped the coin to Estelle. She waited for Estelle to say something about the pin, but when she didn’t mention it, Kierse said over her shoulder, “Enjoy your games.”
“Before you go,” Estelle said, stopping Kierse at the door. “Are you actually married?”
Kierse put on a matching smile as she turned and said, “That would ruin the game, wouldn’t it?”
Chapter Eight
The wet terracotta roof was slick as Kierse hauled herself up onto it, barefoot. She took off at a quick clip as the rain settled into her hair and into the silk of her slip dress. She could not have selected a more inopportune outfit for the occasion. The promise of summer was destroyed by the chilly rain that sank into her skin. All she wanted were her warm black shirt and pants, some sturdy rubber-soled boots, and a waterproof jacket. Or perhaps just a warm fire and no more thieving for the night. Something she so rarely desired.
With no Graves in sight—so much for covering her exit—she hopped from one roof to the next, angling to get a few buildings away before finding her way back to street level. But the next tile she landed on slipped from her under foot, and she careened forward.
Before she crashed into the roof and slid off, an arm snaked out from behind her and caught her around the middle.
“Fuck,” she gasped.
“I’ve got you,” Graves said, low and commanding.
She shivered at the sound. Hated and loved how it affected her all the same. She lifted her gaze and found his dark eyes. He was back in his suit jacket and gloves. His midnight hair was soaked from the rain, and it dripped forward against her lips as he held her.
She coughed and scrambled unsteadily back to her feet. “There you are.”
“I was on my way to the room. You didn’t make the rendezvous.”
“As if you didn’t already know what happened,” she said, slapping the envelope on his chest.
He pulled back. “What’s this?”
“The information you wanted.”
“I wanted the cauldron.” He stuffed the envelope into an inside jacket pocket.
“Well, she didn’t have it. Which you already knew.”
“Why would I send you in there if the cauldron wasn’t there?” he demanded.
“Save me from trying to figure out your schemes, Graves.”
He straightened at her tone. “We were in this one together.”
“I thought so, too,” she said, exhausted. “Can we just get out of the cold? My magic is fucked.”
Graves’s jaw tightened. “Of course.”
Then he removed his jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. She didn’t even have it in her to reject it. She wanted to get off of this roof.
They scaled the next gable, and then Graves opened a latched window, which led to another stairwell. He led them down a set of stairs and out onto the street, where the limo waited. She ducked inside with Graves close behind her, and George pulled away a moment later. She stared out the window as the rain picked up, relentlessly beating on the roof.
Kierse gave him the rundown of what had happened with Estelle on the drive. He was quiet throughout her story, but when she got to the riddle, he snarled out the word, “Sacrifice,” almost before she’d finished.
“Sacrificial lamb,” Kierse said.
“That’s not what you are.”
She waved him off. It wasn’t even worth debating.
He appeared irritated by her dismissal. What Estelle had said made perfect sense. She’d thought they were in this one together, but just like last time, he’d been after something else and had used her to get it. Classic Graves.
Not ten minutes later, the limo came to a stop again on a darkened street.
“Where are we?” Kierse asked.
“My place.”
Kierse stared up at the dark facade. “I thought it was being renovated.”
“We’ll have to make do.”
Kierse wanted to argue, but she was starting to feel the strain from the magic loss. Yeah, she’d stolen a few items while in that room—still had the ruby hair pin, in fact—but it hadn’t been enough to counteract all of Estelle’s magic. She needed to sleep for a good twelve hours, and if she was going to pass out, she needed to do it somewhere safe. She was mad about being Graves’s sacrificial lamb, but she didn’t think he’d let his prized thief come to further harm.