Page 32

The thought of finally getting to see Ethan overrode all reason. She followed him into an elevator that dropped to a subterranean level, depositing them into a hard concrete passageway. The ceiling was arched as if it might have had some grandiose use before this, but she couldn’t discern what.

“It’s a bank escape shaft,” he explained on their walk.

Her eyes lit up. “An exit.” Her favorite.

“It connects to the original Williamsburgh Savings Bank across Broadway. We purchased the bank after it went under and had it restored to its former glory. The tunnel had caved in at two different locations. We dug it out so that we could use the corridor to connect the acolyte training space to their dormitories.”

“Acolyte training,” Kierse repeated slowly. “Is that what Ethan is doing?”

“Yes. It takes years of rigorous work to become a full Druid.” He shot her an easy smile. “Luckily, we are long-lived, as are wisps. So we have the time.”

“And that’s why no one has heard from him since I left?”

“Ah, most Druids grow up in the Order. We don’t get many from outside. But the first line of training is removing attachments to the physical world.”

Kierse narrowed her eyes. “You mean brainwashing them into good little soldiers.”

“If that is what you want to believe. The Druidic Order is a lifelong commitment. We focus on a large swath of knowledge—nature, the elements, astronomy, philosophy, rituals, spells, justice.” His eyes cut to her once before he added, “The changing of the seasons.”

“And fighting.”

“We strengthen the body through martial arts and weaponry,” he agreed. “How can you mete out justice if you cannot enforce it?”

Kierse didn’t think he had any right to enforce anything, personally. But he had kept Brooklyn in better shape than Manhattan, so perhaps some of their discipline made sense.

“Where do the High Priestesses fit into this?”

“Thinking of your friend, Genesis?”

Always . A part of her wondered if Gen should have taken the same deal Ethan had, but Kierse hadn’t wanted to lose her. Was she now five months behind on her own training? Could she have done more here?

When she said nothing, he continued, “The High Priestesses have their own development. They also train physically and in rituals and spells, but their focus is on the healing arts. It is more a subsect of the Druidic work. There are all genders of Druids, but only female High Priestesses.”

“There are no men or nonbinary people with an affinity for healing?”

“There are,” Lorcan conceded. “It’s just a different alignment. Different training.”

Kierse made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat.

They reached the end of the corridor, revealing a massive vault door.

It was the width of three people standing shoulder to shoulder with reinforced steel across the sides.

If Kierse had to guess, she bet it was several feet thick.

A feat of modern ingenuity—not something she would have expected to find in a building built in the 1800s.

“Oh yes, and there’s this,” Lorcan said, gesturing to the door.

“You let all your acolytes walk past your vault?” Kierse asked. “Isn’t it a security risk?”

“It’s warded.” His eyes slid over her. “Not that that affects you, of course, but I would hope the five feet of solid steel would keep you out.”

“You’d be wrong,” she said with no bravado. She could break that vault, and she wouldn’t even need a drill to do it.

“Well, there’s security on it day and night. Just in case you want to try.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“I would so like to watch you work,” he teased.

She huffed. It was too easy. He probably didn’t even keep the sword in there. Not that she had any reason to steal it from him. That was certainly not part of her deal with Graves. He’d lost it fair and square to Lorcan. He’d have to figure out how to get it back himself.

“This way,” Lorcan said with a sly smile.

They came to another bank of elevators and took one up until it opened to a central atrium.

Kierse’s breath caught at the sight. The interior was massive, with forty-foot arched doorways that looked more like they belonged in Versailles, not Brooklyn.

It had a high domed ceiling with a kaleidoscope mural in blues, orchids, and pastel pinks.

Much of the original glass windows, chandelier lighting, and antique craftsmanship had been restored.

The cashier and clerks’ offices shone in gold against one side of the room, in front of the original intercom system and the historic vault Kierse had been expecting for a building of this age.

The walls were marble and the floors a reconstructed mosaic in glossy cream, gold, and white.

At the center of the atrium stood a loose circle of acolytes in brown robes, watching a man and a woman face off. An instructor, a Druid in his fifties wearing green robes belted at the waist and loose pants, was giving instruction.

“Begin,” he said.

Lorcan nodded at the fight as the pair launched at each other. “This was what you wanted, right?”

Kierse furrowed her brow as she homed in on the pair.

The woman was short, at least a head below Kierse, with a cropped blond bob that swung as she moved like liquid.

Her opponent was roughly Kierse’s height with skin the color of an old sepia photo and close-shorn dark hair.

He was built like an ox, with corded arms and broad shoulders.

His back was to her, but the second she watched him move, she cried out. “Ethan?”

At the sound of his name, her best friend turned.

Their eyes locked, and his widened in shock.

His soft face had become angular. His black coils were cut from his head.

Where he’d been all lanky knees and elbows, he’d filled out with hardened muscle.

The prominent scar that ran down one side of his face was the only thing that didn’t seem to have changed.

Her soft-hearted friend who wore his heart on his sleeve had been replaced by this huge man .

The moment strung taut like a rope between them.

All those months ago, they had formed a triskel and used magic that connected her, Ethan, and Gen.

It had saved her life. She could feel that the thread hadn’t disappeared, just stretched across an ocean.

Now she was before him and the ache of missing him threatened to overwhelm her.

But in his moment of distraction, his opponent grasped his arm, executed an intricate spin, and swept his legs out from under him. He grunted as his back hit the practice mat.

Kierse covered her laugh with her hand.

Then Ethan hopped up, vaulting out of the circle and crashing into her arms.

“What are you doing here?” he gasped.

“I came to see you as soon as I could.”

Lorcan cleared his throat. “Ethan.”

“Sorry, sir,” Ethan said, immediately stepping back and bowing to Lorcan.

He turned back to the rest of the class. “Excellent job, Alba. You are an asset to Owen.”

“Sir,” Owen, the Druid teacher, said with a head bow.

Lorcan tipped his head at Kierse and then moved to the rest of the acolyte circle, directing the next pair to begin.

“Kierse,” Ethan gasped, pulling her in for a tight hug once more.

When he held her, she felt like she was finally back in New York. If she had Gen here, too, then everything would be back the way it was always meant to be.

“Look at you,” she said. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re huge!”

He laughed and ran a hand across his head. “Yeah. Turns out training day and night does that.” His gaze drifted to Lorcan with worry. “He told you about acolytes, right? I’m not breaking any sacred vows?”

“He told me,” she said. “But why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to. I just…” He shrugged, his eyes pleading. Same Ethan. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s me you hurt the most by disappearing.”

Ethan chewed on his lip. “Have you…spoken to Corey?”

“I saw him before I came here,” she admitted.

“You did? How’s he doing?” he gasped.

“Not great,” she said, pushing his shoulder. “Gen and I had to hear from Nate that you broke up.”

“A break,” Ethan said quickly. “Not a breakup.”

“And then you disappeared for five months. What’s the difference?”

“My isolation ends in a month. I can be out in public again after that. I don’t…” he said hesitantly. “Do you think he’ll see me?”

Kierse had a feeling that Corey would see him immediately if he could, but she didn’t know how that reunion would go. “Probably. I guess you’ll know in a month.”

“Yeah. I don’t know,” he said, looking over her shoulder in the direction of Manhattan with distant eyes, as if he could will himself to the Lower East Side to see his maybe-ex-boyfriend. He refocused on her. “Why are you back? Is Gen with you?”

“She’s in the city, but I didn’t want to risk her in enemy territory.”

“The Druids aren’t your enemy,” he said automatically.

“Like a good little soldier,” she teased.

He didn’t laugh, though. His eyes went flat. “I’m serious. They’re the good guys, Kierse. We were wrong about them.”

For the first time, looking around at the Druids, the Order, and their very dangerous leader, she wondered how much she should even tell Ethan. Was he compromised? She hated to even consider it. She never would have second-guessed him before.

“Let’s put a pin in that conversation for another time. You think the best of everyone.”

“And you think the worst.”

“Which of us was correct last winter?” she argued.

He frowned. “That’s not…” he sputtered. “Graves…”

“Let’s not bring him into this.”

“Are you working with him again?”

“Yes,” she said flatly.

“Kierse,” he said warningly. “I’ve learned some shit about him since I got here.”

“Oh, I bet you have.”

He grasped her arm and pulled her further from the circle of acolytes. “Don’t make a joke about this or try to deflect like you always do. Graves is a monster. He cannot be trusted.”

Kierse looked down at where he gripped her arm and then back up at her friend. She had worried about him going to Lorcan. She hadn’t expected this .

“Are you saying that you don’t trust me ?” she asked carefully.

“If you’re working with him again, maybe I can’t.”

Fire ignited in her stomach. The fucking indoctrination that the Druids had put him through.

Five months with nothing but an echo chamber had taken her sweet friend and made him this .

He had always been a zealot—first for the church, then their friendship, and now the Druids—and it shouldn’t have surprised her. But that didn’t keep it from hurting.

She jerked her arm back. “You do not want to be my enemy.”

Ethan straightened. “Well, I guess I should get back.”

“Ethan…”

“I have more training,” he said. “Good little soldier shit.”

She sighed. “Wait…”

He held his hand up and jogged away, leaving her there on uneven footing.