Page 59

Kierse met Ethan and Gen at the subway station. Ethan had changed into khakis and a green polo with the Druid acorn on the breast. She would have rolled her eyes at him if they weren’t in a fight.

“We’re all good.”

Ethan looked skeptical. “Lorcan just let you leave?”

“He told us to have a good time.” She ruffled his hair. “Just have to get Cinderella back before morning meditation.”

“He knows ?” Ethan looked horrified.

“Yeah, I don’t know how, but he was fine with it.”

“Anything for you,” Gen teased as they trotted onto the M line train.

“Niamh decided to stay?” Kierse asked.

Gen purposely looked out the window. “She said it probably was for the best. Pupils and students shouldn’t fraternize or something.”

“Never stopped me,” Kierse muttered.

Gen shrugged with a half smile. “If only we all had your audacity.”

“Personally, I don’t want to hear about your fraternizations,” Ethan said.

“Why not?” Kierse asked, bristling at the implication.

“Don’t pick a fight with her.” Gen poked a finger into his stomach. “This is a happy night.”

Ethan leaned back in the empty subway car. “Can we talk about how the fuck you and Lorcan are soulmates, then?”

“No,” Kierse said automatically.

“It’s new,” Gen warned him. “She only recently found out.”

“How’s that possible?”

“It’s always been there,” Kierse said, her gaze wandering back out the window as they passed over the East River.

“At least, I think it’s always been there.

It was muffled by the spell, but even when I was around him last winter, I was drawn to him.

I kept feeling like…he wasn’t a bad guy.

Despite all the harm he was causing me and you, I still felt something there that didn’t make any sense to me, because I was so angry with him all the time. ”

Gen leaned her head onto Kierse’s shoulder. “You still are.”

“Maybe more so. He knew. He’s known since the spell came off what was there and didn’t tell me.”

“As if that would have made anything better,” Ethan said. “You told him you’d kill him the next time you saw him. Telling you then was a death sentence.” Then he added almost as an afterthought, “And…he isn’t the bad guy.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it.”

“That won’t make it go away,” Gen said softly.

“Yeah. What else should I do? We’re in the middle of…” She glanced at Ethan warily. She wasn’t accustomed to thinking of him as the enemy. “Work,” she finished.

Ethan blew out a breath. “What are you stealing now?”

Kierse’s lip quirked up at that. “Something fun.”

“You always think it’s fun,” he argued.

“Because it always is.”

“Maybe after, then,” Gen said.

“Which is when, exactly?” Ethan asked. “Because we should start training our magic together now . I have weekly private lessons with Lorcan on my growing powers and the abilities of a triskel. You know he was part of a triskel?”

“Yes,” Kierse said. “He told me.”

“Well, he’s the only person still alive who was part of one. He’s the only one who can train us.”

“That isn’t true,” Gen said automatically.

Ethan looked like he was going to argue, but somehow Kierse knew where she was going with this. “Niamh was part of it?”

Gen nodded. “A Druid, a High Priestess, and a wisp.”

“And Lorcan’s wife was a wisp,” Kierse said, letting the pieces fall into place. “They were a triskel until she was killed.”

“That’s why Niamh has been in Dublin. She finds it…difficult to be here, around Lorcan, after Saoirse’s death.”

Kierse imagined one of her two best friends dead for a hundred years and how she would still feel the pain of that for all the years to come. She couldn’t imagine that weight. Didn’t want to have to imagine it.

“So Niamh could train us,” Gen added quickly. “If Lorcan is the problem…”

“Why is Lorcan the problem?” Ethan asked in a huff. “He’s your soulmate. Shouldn’t you be like jumping for joy and moving into Brooklyn and shit?”

Kierse shot him a look, and Gen burst into laughter.

“When has anything been that easy with Kierse?” Gen asked. “As soon as it looks too good to be true, she’s side-eyeing everything.”

Ethan breathed out with a small smile. “That’s fair.”

“We do need to train, though,” Gen said softly. She glanced up and met Kierse’s gaze. “It saved your life. Imagine what else we could do.”

“So much more,” Ethan agreed.

Kierse sighed. The last thing she wanted was a reason to spend more time in Druid territory.

Her relationship with Lorcan was complicated enough without adding time spent in Brooklyn where she could feel him under her skin at every moment.

But Gen and Ethan were pleading with her, their eyes round and open.

She wanted this with them more than she hated dealing with the discomfort of Lorcan.

“Fine,” Kierse said. Because they wanted it. And she had a hard time telling them no.

Gen leaned her head on Ethan’s shoulder, and he threaded his fingers through her hair like he always had back in the day.

For all intents and purposes, everything was back to normal.

Kierse knew this was a hesitant truce with Ethan, but her capitulation had brought them closer together again.

Maybe that was part of the reason she’d done it.

She missed him. She missed them all being together.

Life had gotten much more chaotic since they’d left the attic.

When the M dropped them off, they left the platform and walked out onto the streets of Midtown.

East 53rd Street was the sort of glam that Kierse avoided unless she needed some easy pickpocketing and was willing to put up with the mess of tourists.

The subway exit let out in front of a chain store that sold luxury watches and somehow had survived the war, and across from a tech company that had overtaken a historical 5th Avenue building.

People crawled all over the sidewalks, and the trio huddled together as they traversed the crowds, turning left onto 5th and then crossing the street to 52nd.

Nestled in amidst the high rises was a five-story building with a wrought iron gate and handrail up the stone steps—the entrance to Club 21.

The front edifice was all floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on an elegant front porch.

Known more commonly as 21, the club had been a speakeasy in the 1920s and a place for celebrities and politicians to dine and drink over the years.

While it had closed its doors during the war, it, too, had made a revival in this newfound peace.

Gen and Ethan climbed the stairs first. Kierse put her hand on the railing absentmindedly as she followed, then quickly pulled it back, hissing.

“Are you okay?” Gen asked.

Kierse glanced down at her hand. It was red and irritated, but not bubbling or blistered like it felt like it should be. But damn, this iron was not her friend.

“Just…iron.”

Ethan tilted his head. “What’s wrong with iron?”

“Having a bit of an allergy since the spell came down,” she admitted. She showed them her hand. “Drains my magic, too.”

“I can fix the first part,” Gen said, murmuring a few words.

Her palm miraculously healed over, erasing all the pain.

Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “Whoa! Look at you!”

Gen flushed. “Yeah. I’ve been training, too. Maybe you’ll show us what you can do other than strut around with all those muscles.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’re doing more than just working out.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Kierse teased.

The front door opened as they approached. Standing in the doorway was Nate’s second-in-command, Ronan. A cigarette was already dangling from his pouty lips as he strode outside.

Ronan’s dark eyes tracked the three of them before landing squarely on Gen. “Hey, there,” he said with a hunter’s smile.

“Hi,” she squeaked, suddenly shy.

“I was hoping you’d show up,” Ronan said.

Kierse and Ethan shared a look that filled her with glee. Of their trio, Gen had always been the least interested in relationships. It was delicious to watch her deal with Ronan’s attention.

“We’ll meet you inside,” Kierse told Gen and then pushed Ethan across the threshold.

The interior was every bit as beautiful as the exterior.

A large, circular bar took up the center of the establishment, and model airplanes and boats, football helmets, and other toy paraphernalia hung overhead.

There were a dozen circular tables covered with gingham tablecloths.

The chairs were filled with Dreadlords and their friends and family, the restaurant full to bursting with those eager to celebrate the happy couple.

Corey jumped to his feet when Kierse and Ethan stepped into the bar.

His jaw dropped as he took in Ethan from head to toe through the dimly lit bar.

Ethan jerked forward like he was going to run to him.

Kierse wanted to encourage him, but she knew her own history with Ethan was murky.

She didn’t know how Corey felt about it all, only that he loved Ethan very much.

The rest Ethan would have to figure out.

“Hey,” Ethan said as they approached. His Adam’s apple bobbed with discomfort. “It’s good to see you.”

Corey, to his credit, flashed him a too-pretty smile. “Miss me?”

Their builds were more similar now than they had been months earlier—they were both stronger since the split but emotionally injured from the break.

Yet where Ethan’s prized curls had been shaved down, Corey had let his glossy dark hair grow nearly to his shoulders.

Different, and yet the same in all the ways that mattered—at least, Kierse thought so.

Ethan dipped his chin at Corey’s tease. “Every day. You don’t hate me?”

“I might have cursed you and your ancestors for a few months.”

“My poor ancestors. What did they ever do to you?”

Corey arched an eyebrow. “Allowed you to get away with this stupidity.”

“Well…”

“I thought you had a few more weeks.”

“I do, but…”

“We broke him out,” Kierse interrupted. “Enjoy!”

Corey pulled her into a hug. “Thank you. The Roulettes owe you one. I owe you one.”

Kierse would have gladly accepted a favor from the Roulettes, the gang on the Lower East Side that Colette partnered with for protection for the brothel, but she didn’t feel that this was an owed moment. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Kierse left them alone, grabbing a snack from the bar as she wandered deeper into the bar. She’d been so hungry lately. Using her magic all the time was exhausting.

She surveyed the room, finding the leader of the Roulettes, Carmine Garcia, perched on a chair some distance away.

He had smooth, light-brown skin and wore his thick, black hair slicked back.

He was leaning toward Colette as if she were his entire world.

They had been having an affair for years.

Colette never admitted it was exclusive, even though Kierse suspected it was, aside from client work.

And there was Madame Colette—the earth and moon paused in their orbits to revel in her loveliness.

Gen was so much her mirror, and so much a mashup of whoever her father was.

Colette wore a flattering maroon dress with little tassels that swayed with her figure.

Her milky skin was unlined and her lids a deep blue of the ocean right before a storm.

When she set those eyes on Kierse, it was like coming home.

“About time you showed your face,” Colette said as she rose to her feet.

“Did you need someone to properly pour your brandy?” Kierse asked with a smile.

“At least you remember your place.”

Her smile stretched wider.

“Did you bring my daughter with you?”

“Genesis and Ethan both,” Kierse told her. “Though they each got a bit…distracted.”

Colette’s gaze followed her to where Ethan was in deep conversation with Corey. She sighed as if aggrieved. “Youth.”

Kierse extracted herself from Colette and went to congratulate Nate and Maura. They were seated at the front of the room surrounded by Dreadlords and a handful of Maura’s nursing friends, who kept eyeing the wolves with interest.

“You made it!” Maura cried as she jumped up to hug Kierse.

She was dressed in a stunning salwar kameez—a two-piece garment comprised of long, flowy pants and a knee-length sheath of off-white and gold, embroidered with shimmering beads.

The sleeves were sheer with intricate embellishments.

A cream shawl draped across her narrow shoulders.

Matching dangly earrings and bangles completed the ensemble.

“Good to see you,” Nate said with a grin. “I see you got Ethan out, too.”

“We did.”

“Any trouble?” he asked.

“Always.”

Maura laughed. “You should know better than that, Nathaniel. This is Kierse McKenna we’re talking about.”

“If you weren’t my favorite kind of trouble,” Nate said, pressing a kiss to Maura’s wrist, “it would certainly be Kierse’s bullshit.”

Maura rolled her eyes and yanked her arm away. “Where is your plus-one? Tall, dark, dangerous.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I thought you’d bring him along, too.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s not like…social.”

Nate coughed into his beer. “That’s a word for it.”

Maura pouted. “I was so looking forward to meeting him.”

“Next time,” Kierse said uncertainly.

Even though she very much doubted that Graves would brave a wedding, either.

She was about to change the subject when the front door opened again, letting the last lingering bits of daylight into the darkened room. Kierse only turned because the rest of the room had gone quiet.

A nightmare had walked into their midst.

Graves.