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)
She pressed her hand to the door, closed her eyes, and pushed her intent into the door. A trickle of power rushed into the frame. She shivered at the release. That would act as a trip wire for at least the next hour. If anyone walked through this door, she would know to use another exit.
Praying she wouldn’t need to, she hurried to the balcony window and slipped through it into the cool spring air. The party didn’t wrap around to this side of the palace, so the grounds were empty of witnesses. Clouds hung heavy on the horizon, promising rain. She needed to be done before it reached her.
She judged the distance to the next balcony with unease. Before the spell that hid her true nature had been removed, revealing her Fae heritage—pointed ears and all—Kierse never would have attempted this. And though she’d gotten over her fear of heights before—thanks to a quick shove from Jason and a swift plummet to the ground below—she didn’t particularly want to test a three-story drop. But with her new magic came increased sensory awareness, quicker reflexes, and strength. Not that she was 100 percent confident on using any of these new skills, but tonight she’d have to make it work. Because a human wasn’t going to make this jump.
Good thing she was no longer human.
Kierse winced at that. She still identified as human, having spent the last twenty-five years thinking she was one. Thinking otherwise sat wrong with her. At least she’d learned enough magic to glamour her pointed ears back into the rounded ones she’d had most of her life. It was useful on missions where she needed to blend in, but sometimes she liked to wear the glamour just to feel more like herself.
She slipped off her heels, leaving them hidden on the balcony, then hiked up her skirts and scrambled onto the iron balustrade. She hissed as the iron touched her bare skin. It didn’t incapacitate her like the faerie tales had made it seem like it would, but it also wasn’t comfortable.
“Here goes nothing,” she said.
With a spring, she jumped, reaching out for the enormous lantern suspended between the two balconies. She caught it and swung back once, her muscles protesting the strain. Then on her forward swing, when her momentum was at the right angle, she released. She barely held back a scream as she launched, landing in a roll on the next balcony. She heard a rip from her dress. Fucking great.
Kierse stood on shaky legs. Well, she’d made it.
She dusted off her dress and inspected the rip. It had only made the already high slit slightly obscene. This was why she wore practical clothing when she broke into places, but there hadn’t been another choice for this job. And now there wasn’t time to deal with it.
After a quick listen at the door, she pushed into the queen’s opulent chambers. Everything was sixteenth-century chic, à la King Louis XIV, with patterned armless chairs and an impressive four-poster bed with gauzy white curtains obscuring it from view. Kierse strode across the antique rugs and to a door at the back of the room. Her contact had told her exactly where the bracelet would be. She felt her thieving smile return as she swung open the door and revealed the safe behind.
Nothing fancy, but it didn’t need to be. Kierse inspected the wards written around its edges—fleur-de-lis inside that illusive language she always felt hovered at the edge of her understanding. The magic was old—a warlock had put these wards in place a long time ago. Not that a magic’s age affected Kierse’s ability to bypass it.
Kierse’s main magical ability was absorption. Magic didn’t affect her unless she took in way too much magic at once. Which meant the wards weren’t a problem, and she could crack a lock like this in her sleep.
The safe was older than the warding, which always worked in her favor. She pressed her ear to the safe door, listening to the tumblers as she put together the code. Then she grinned devilishly as she turned the dial one last time and the whole thing popped open.
“Excellent,” she breathed.
Inside was an assortment of sparkling jewels all encased in lush gold and silver settings. It was a smaller collection than she’d been anticipating. Probably just what the queen wore on the regular—not the state jewels.
The bracelet she was after was goblin-made with an amethyst at the center of the silver filigreed band. It should have been here amidst the jewelry. While there was every other manner of gemstone, there wasn’t a single amethyst bracelet in sight.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
A goblin back in Dublin had assured her it was in the queen’s vault and that no one else they’d hired had been able to access it. If she could steal it, he’d give her a coin to access the goblin market. A coin she desperately needed. Part of her had known that all of this trouble meant the bracelet was far more valuable than what the goblin was offering in exchange, but she figured wiping the smug smile off of his face would be worth it. Except…it wasn’t here.