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)
“Just got into the car with George,” he reported back. “I heard everything. Edgar has the antidote and he’s on his way.”
Kierse burst backstage, racing toward the back auction room. The auctioneers had already packed up and fled. The box that held the cauldron was missing. Kierse raced out the emergency exit leading to the rooftop. Schwartz had warned them that all the auction items had been brought up the back of the building on 41st Street with a pulley system, and Imani stared down over the rooftop where it had already been utilized.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
Imani whirled on her. “Little wren, you’re in over your head.” Then she stepped off the edge of the roof and dropped.
Kierse’s eyes widened in shock. She ran to the edge and found Imani clinging to the brick as she slid down. Whatever magic power that was, Kierse had never heard of it. Graceful falling?
But it was currently giving Imani the advantage on the cauldron.
Kierse could see a security team far below on the street loading equipment into the back of two cars. She knew that in the event anything went wrong, the team would extract the items and load them into separate armored cars, including both the cauldron and a decoy cauldron box.
They would be gone any minute. If Imani could reach the ground in time, she would have the cauldron within her grasp. And Graves wouldn’t be able to shed Imani’s magic before it was gone.
Going after the cauldron post-auction had always been an option if all else fell through. She had thought Graves would be coherent enough to make the call. Now it was her call.
The decision felt obvious.
“Imani is after the cauldron. If we don’t go after it, we’ll lose it,” she told Laz. “Send George around to 41st.”
“Confirmed. We’re on our way.”
Kierse hiked up her dress and tied up the train as she ran for the scaffolding on the back of the building. She ripped off her heels, mourning the beautiful gold shoes, then vaulted over the side of the building and took the stairs three at a time.
Too slow, too slow, too slow. Still she ran, feeling those wisp instincts kick in. Suddenly she was taking each set of stairs in stride, missing the entire set to land on the next platform. Her body felt primed and ready as if it had been made for this moment. Eleven stories and superhuman speed and she was still going to be too late.
Imani landed on the ground as they slammed the door on the remaining armored car and the first drove toward 7th Avenue. Imani never broke stride as she pulled powder out of a hidden pocket at her waist and flung it in their direction. Only one of the guards was brought to a stop. The shifter fell to his knees at her feet, writhing, and then the last door slammed shut and the vehicle took off in the opposite direction from the first.
A black car screeched to a halt before Imani, and she jumped in. Kierse landed on the ground as Imani’s car pulled away.
“Fuck,” she cried. “They’re getting away.”
“Almost there,” Laz told her.
George rounded the corner, skidding to a stop before her. Laz threw open the back door, and she jumped inside as George followed Imani onto 8th Avenue at a dangerous speed.
“Does Graves hire racecar drivers?” she asked.
“Graves hires those he finds valuable,” George said. “You’re going to need to do something about that dress.”
“You don’t have pants in here, do you?”
A knife appeared in his hand, offered through the privacy partition.
“Right,” she grumbled.
Then she hacked at the train of her dress until the thing went from full length to a mini dress in a few quick moves.
“Any word from Schwartz which vehicle we’re following?”
“Even security wasn’t informed which vehicle had the cauldron and which had the decoy,” Laz told her.
Kierse groaned. “Great. Well, fifty-fifty shot, anyway. Best to stop Imani. She’s on a long list of the last people I want to have an object that could make her more powerful.”
“I’ll get closer,” George said, and he put his foot to the floor.
Kierse clung on for dear life as they sped south down the mostly empty streets. Luckily, Manhattan had developed enough in the intervening years that lights illuminated the darkened avenue. Neon signs glowed from buildings as they zipped past the entertainment district toward Chelsea. Imani’s black car was a block ahead of them, and the armed convoy was another block ahead of her. They’d have lost them both in the darkness if not for the city that never sleeps waking up again.
Madison Square Garden loomed ahead as they cleared the distance.
“Plan?” Laz asked.
Kierse shook her head. “Thinking.”
“I suspect the boss would think this acceptable in this situation,” George said and then pressed a button on the steering wheel.