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)
“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Kierse said. “You have a private plane. You are free to return to New York.”
His gaze landed on her again. “I am not going to let you enter the market alone.”
He returned to his book with a wave of his hand, letting her know he needed to level up. Something she would also need to do. She’d gotten reliant on always having her powers charged. It had been months since she’d been this drained. She’d eaten half of the food on the plane and was certainly going to need to do some pickpocketing to get back to full strength before she could walk into Nying Market.
“At least you’re in a nice part of town,” Graves said as they took the turn onto Leeson Street into the city center.
Kierse turned her attention back to the window as they circled St. Stephen’s Green. She had made it a part of her morning routine to walk through the historic public park. Bordered by busy streets, it was a refuge similar to what she had back at home in Central Park, albeit a much smaller area. She enjoyed feeding the ducks and watching the mer swim in the lake at its center.
“This used to be for grazing livestock,” Graves muttered.
“When was that?” she asked with a laugh. “I can’t even imagine it.”
He shrugged. “A couple hundred years ago.”
She sometimes forgot that he’d been born in the 1500s. It didn’t always feel possible to imagine him having been around during the Tudors and the Paris World’s Fair and so much of history. That he could remember a time when there was livestock in the center of Dublin proper.
They navigated the remainder of the streets before coming to stop in front of a Georgian-style apartment building. The row of brick buildings along the whole street was dotted with vibrantly colored doors, and the door to Kierse’s apartment was the brightest yellow on the block. She hopped out as soon as they stopped, relief rushing over her at the sight of the place. She hurried up the stoop to the elaborate entrance.
Graves cleared his throat behind her, and she glanced back at him with a quick smile. It was surreal to see him in the Dublin daylight. Graves belonged in winter, in darkened libraries, and secret passageways under the subway. He wasn’t spring in the, albeit, rare sunshine of the city center. It was like she was seeing two people written on top of one another.
“Be prepared to be amazed,” Kierse teased, turning the knob and entering a stairwell. The elevator only worked every fourth trip, and it wasn’t worth it to get stuck for the afternoon, so they took the steps.
She had a giddy lift to her step. She hadn’t even been gone that long, and she already missed Gen. Those weeks she’d lived in Graves’s brownstone had been the longest she had been without her best friend, and she didn’t want to repeat the experience.
It was bad enough that there was no Ethan. The only word she’d had was from Nate, letting her know that Ethan had gone underground with the Druids and no one had heard from him. Not even his boyfriend, Corey. Now…ex-boyfriend? She still couldn’t fathom it.
Kierse stuck the key in the door and turned the antique brass handle. “Gen! I’m home!” She stepped inside to find the sparse living quarters exactly as she had left them.
“Miss McKenna,” Graves said in irritation, stuck on the other side of the door.
“What are you, a vampire? Should I invite you in?”
“Would you like me to take your warding down?” he asked like a threat.
“Can you do that?”
He shot her a look.
“Right.” She pressed her hand to the door and adjusted the ward to allow him to pass.
“You know that you can change the wards without touch once they’re connected.”
“Sure. But I’m low. I didn’t want to use the effort.”
“Kierse?” Gen called. She rushed out of her bedroom in pink sweatpants, a white tank, and oversize cardigan. Her bright copper hair was piled high on her head in an intricate messy bun. “You’re back!” She collided with Kierse, wrapping her up in a hug. Kierse settled into her. Gen was home; she was home.
“I’m back.”
“And you brought a…visitor,” Gen said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
The one benefit of having money was that Kierse had paid a spectacular amount for a doctor to look at Gen’s eyes. She had been diagnosed with early onset macular degeneration when she was just seven. She now saw almost exclusively out of her peripheral vision. Kierse had unfortunately discovered that the doctor who had bailed when Gen was a kid wasn’t a quack, and there wasn’t anything that could be done for her vision. At least nothing that science had discovered.