Page 6

The limo rolled to a stop in front of a distinctly Parisian apartment building with the quintessential white stone facing, flat roof, and black wrought-iron balconies.

A designer wedding dress shop took up the windows for the shop on the first floor.

Streetlamps dotted the expansive avenue, illuminating the empty sidewalk.

George hastened to open their door, knocking open a large black umbrella.

Kierse took his hand as she stepped out onto the wet pavement with the umbrella open high above her.

The sky had unleashed on their drive, but the rain was now a misty drizzle.

Graves took the umbrella from George on his way out and held his arm out for her.

“Ready?”

Kierse lifted her chin, determined not to show an ounce of fear.

She grasped his arm and let him guide her toward the awaiting door, where Graves punched in an entry code.

When the door popped open, she entered a small black-and-white tiled stairwell with an antique wooden banister.

Graves stepped in after her, dropping the wet umbrella into a basket.

“When Hausmann renovated Paris,” Graves explained as they took the stairs, “he standardized the design of the new buildings so that the ground floor boasted shops, the second floor was lavish flats with the highest ceilings for the elite, the next two floors were smaller apartments, and the top floor was servants’ quarters.

Of course, now, the top floors are highly coveted for their views, but they’re still more closets than apartments. ”

“So, Estelle is on the second floor.”

“Well, she bought the entire building sometime in the early 1900s and renovated it to her liking.”

Kierse shot him a look. “Like someone else I know.”

“Who do you think she learned it from?”

Graves’s brownstone on the Upper West Side was massive. He’d scooped up as much of the surrounding real estate as he could and connected the buildings. It was the only way he could have a personal library of its size in the middle of Manhattan.

At the second-floor landing, they stopped before massive double doors.

Kierse could immediately sense the door was warded against entry and great swaths of magic were being used within.

Symbols had been etched into the doorframe in that same language that always hovered at the periphery of Kierse’s mind.

Permanent markings helped to hold the ward in place with less continued magic, which meant that these wards were strong.

At the center of each of the wardings was a fleur-de-lis.

The same symbol that she had seen guarding Queen Aveline’s jewels in Versailles.

“She’s allied with the queen,” Kierse said.

“Indeed,” Graves said as he reached forward and knocked.

“Won’t she be upset that we stole from her majesty?”

“I believe she’ll find it a very fun game.”

The door swung inward, revealing a pale young woman in a white silk gown and elbow-length formal gloves. “My mistress has been expecting you.”

“Of course she has,” Graves said.

The woman’s gaze shifted to Kierse. Her eyes were wide and piercing blue, and she had a prominent mole above her top lip. “She isn’t sure about you.”

“Well, I am,” Graves said as he drew Kierse across the threshold.

Estelle’s magic melted over her skin. For the briefest moment, she smelled fresh-baked bread and a hint of dry champagne before it let her pass into an incredible foyer complete with towering, coffered walls and decorative ceilings with ornamental molding.

The herringbone-style hardwood floors crossed into a luxurious sitting area full of antique furniture.

A gold mirror rested on the mantel over an original fireplace.

The room was bedecked with a glittering crystal chandelier, and heavy embroidered drapery covered the array of French doors leading onto terraced balconies she had glimpsed from outside.

Kierse’s entire job had been to steal from and for billionaires. She had thought nothing could be as ornate as Graves’s brownstone, but compared to Estelle, Graves favored simplicity.

“Please have a seat and enjoy the refreshments. My mistress will be with you momentarily,” the woman said before dipping into a curtsy and departing.

Kierse and Graves exchanged a look.

“The game begins when you enter,” was all Graves said.

Of course. It always did.

Graves moved to the fireplace, seemingly inspecting the craftsmanship. Kierse circled the room and took up a spot by the farthest balcony. She pushed gently against the French door and found it opened on a breeze. If something went sideways with Estelle, this would be the easiest exit.

On a sideboard against one wall, tiered silver trays held little French delicacies.

Gold-rimmed flutes of champagne sat on a matching silver platter.

Kierse’s stomach grumbled. She’d gotten so invested in her work that she’d forgotten to eat today, and with the adrenaline wearing off, she wished that she’d thought better of it.

Not that she would indulge from an unknown warlock.

A few moments later, a slight woman entered wearing a sumptuous red gown that looked like it had walked straight off the runway.

Her hips swayed as she moved, one foot in front of the other, on mile-high heels.

Her cheeks were painted with rouge, lips a glossy cherry red, button nose highlighted, and her liner, lashes, and shadow only enhanced her arresting violet eyes.

“Welcome,” she said with a melodic voice. “It’s been too long, mon chéri.”

She strode across the room and embraced Graves like long-lost friends. Graves’s eyes rose to Kierse’s over the top of Estelle’s head. Kierse had to stifle a laugh.

“Whatever are you wearing?” Estelle asked.

Graves pulled back and adjusted his collar. “It’s been a night.”

“And you showed up without even a suit coat?”

“Do you want to hear about what happened in the limo?”

Estelle laughed. “You scoundrel.”

Kierse gritted her teeth at the implication. She had been wondering why he’d disrobed in the car. But now his disheveled appearance made more sense with her own torn dress and his rumpled suit pants. They both looked like they’d been having a wild night.

“And you brought your…friend?” Estelle said.

Graves’s answering smile made Kierse’s knees weak. Fuck, he could be charming when he wanted to be.

“My wife,” he corrected.

Kierse’s stomach dropped. No matter how many times he told that lie, she would never get used to it coming out of his mouth.

“Wife,” Estelle repeated, though there was no surprise in her voice.

“As I’m sure you have already heard.”

“Good news travels fast,” she said with a knowing smirk. “Now, you’re being rude. Introduce me.”

Graves took Estelle by the arm and brought her over to Kierse. “Madame Estelle, might I introduce you to Kierse McKenna.” His eyes lifted to meet Kierse’s. “Kierse, my longtime friend, Estelle Beaumont.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Estelle said. She leaned forward and kissed Kierse once on each cheek. “Anyone who can lock down the most formidable bachelor on either side of the Atlantic has my appreciation and condolences.”

“‘Condolences,’” Graves grumbled.

Estelle shot him a wry smile. “She has to put up with you.”

Kierse snorted. “She knows the right of it.”

“Will I get to hear the story of how you brought his heart back from the dead?”

“Is that what I did?” Kierse asked. She directed the question at Estelle but knew Graves would pick up that it was clearly intended for him. Kierse arched an eyebrow.

“Another time,” Graves said. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“No?” Estelle said with a soft laugh. “You didn’t come to tell me the good news? I’m shocked.” She put a hand to her chest. “Truly.”

“You know why I’m here.”

“You want to play a game,” Estelle said with a smile.

“I’m already in one.”

“If you brought your wife, then you’re foolish indeed.” She patted Graves’s cheek once. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Kierse glanced between them. “How does that make him foolish?”

Estelle’s smile turned deadly. For the first time, Kierse could see the power behind her Game Master title in her violet irises.

“Graves has played games with me across a century. He knows how the rules work. He knows how my magic works,” she told Kierse. “Playing with him used to be more interesting.”

“You mean when I won?” Graves teased.

Estelle shrugged. “It’s not about winning or losing. It’s about what you’re willing to lose to play.”

Kierse’s head snapped to Graves. “What does she mean by that?”

“Graves has sacrificed many others to the game. You may be his wife, but for what he wants, I believe he’d sacrifice you, too. Am I right, mon chéri?”

“It depends on the price,” he said, unconcerned.

“Graves,” Kierse snarled.

Estelle smiled. “Are you going to tell me what you’re here for, then?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

“Yes, but we can only begin when you ask for what you want. You know the rules.”

Graves’s eyes cut to Kierse. “The cauldron.”

Estelle grinned devilishly. “Ah, so it has reached your ears that it was found.”

“That it’s in your possession.”

“And you want to play for it?”

He nodded. “Let’s play an old familiar game, Estelle.”

“Not you.” Estelle’s eyes cut to Kierse. “Her.”

“Me?” Kierse asked, uncomprehending. “I am not here to play a game. I’m actually over games in general.”

“She’s not part of this, Estelle,” Graves growled.

“She’s very much a part of this. If she’s here in my house…with you, then you knew it was a possibility. What would it hurt to have her play?”

Graves ground his teeth together. “I’m not willing to harm her.”

“My games don’t harm anyone.”

His laugh was sardonic. “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

“Surely you want to play,” Estelle said, turning on Kierse. “You could win your beau his greatest prize.”

“ I’m the prize,” Kierse argued.

“She is off-limits,” Graves said. He moved between Kierse and Estelle. “I am not sacrificing Kierse to your machinations. She is much too precious for that. I will play the game, and I will win my reward.”

“No,” Estelle said with another cruel twist to her lips. “It’s her or nothing.”

“Then it’s nothing,” Graves said.

Estelle reared back in surprise. Kierse could see that she’d been certain that Graves would fold. That he would love nothing as much as his own pride and prize. But he’d gone against her script, proving to her that Kierse mattered to him and he wouldn’t use her as a bargaining chip.

“This is your answer?”

“Yes,” Graves said defiantly. “We will go if that is yours.”

“Ah, you think me devoid of hospitality. You will stay the night.” Estelle glanced between them in confusion. “If you would like.”

Graves turned to Kierse and held his hand out. “Come along.”

Kierse swallowed and then put her hand in his, letting him pull her against him. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering if this had really been the right play.

“You will change your mind,” Estelle said.

“Don’t count on it,” Graves told her.