Page 64

Lyra Anderson on stage at the New Amsterdam Aerial Gardens theater, playing her rendition of Hermia, was a revelation.

Kierse had thought she was a triumph on their opening night during the auction.

With a few weeks of regular shows, she had transformed into an otherworldly creature.

The crowd grew still and silent every time she appeared on the stage.

This was the fourth show that Kierse had seen in so many nights. Graves had gone to the first with her, and he was here again tonight. His hand rested on her inner thigh under her dress as they watched from a secluded table to the right of the stage, closest to the backstage door.

“You think this will work?”

“After what she said to you at the auction?” he asked with a smirk.

“I am irresistible,” she teased.

His hand inched higher. “You are.”

She spread her legs wider under the table and let him find that she’d opted out of panties for the night. The dress was a form-fitting navy silk that showed every line and curve. She hadn’t had a single pair of underwear that worked with it.

Graves stilled the second he found out. “Wren…”

“Hmm?” she asked coyly.

“Can you be quiet?”

She shook her head but didn’t stop him as he slid his fingers higher. She inhaled sharply, feeling the flex of his magic surround them. She could still hear the stage performance, but no one would be able to hear them. That wouldn’t keep her face from revealing what he was doing to her, however.

His eyes were trained on her as she tried to hide her emotions. His fingers thick and slippery deep inside of her. His thumb pressing insistently against her clit. Anyone could see their secret intrusion. She hoped that the evening darkness hid them. She wasn’t sure that it did.

And still Graves didn’t let up. Nor did she want him to.

She bit into her lip, stifling a cry that only they would be able to hear.

Graves pressed his lip to the shell of her ear. “Are you going to come for me, Wren?”

“I…” she gasped.

“Let your powers down.”

She let him into her mind. Showed him how close she was, how she could barely contain herself, and the look on his face as he stole her breath. She wanted to say fuck it all and have him spread her open on this table.

His eyes turned dark at the thought. “I could oblige.”

She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or serious. But just the thought sent her over the edge. A breathless gasp ripped out of her as she came against his fingers.

“Pity,” he said as he slipped free of her and reached for a napkin.

She crossed her legs and waited for her breathing to return to normal. She felt shaky from her orgasm.

“We’re supposed to be working,” she accused him.

“How can I resist when you’re on display for me?” he asked as he slipped his arm across her shoulders.

“You’re filthy.”

“Is that a complaint?”

He knew it wasn’t.

“You can finish again after we complete our work,” he said with that dangerous smirk she so adored. He tsk ed her. “You’re so distracted.”

She snorted. “I think you were the distracted one.”

“Well, when you fail to wear underwear…who can blame me?”

Kierse turned her attention back to the stage as the fifth act began—the triple wedding as the Fae depart from their mischief. All was right with the world. Kierse always got a little bored with the ending. She understood it, but she preferred the mischief. Perhaps that was in her nature.

“What do you know of the triskel training?”

“Little,” Graves admitted.

“But Lorcan, Niamh, and Saoirse were already bonded when you knew them before?”

He frowned as if he didn’t want to discuss this. She knew him well enough to know when he was hedging.

“I want to be prepared for what I’m walking into with Lorcan,” Kierse said. “I have to go back to that place on Tuesday for my training. And I don’t know what to expect.”

“They weren’t a triskel yet when I knew them. It didn’t begin until after Lorcan and Saoirse’s wedding,” Graves told her. “I was already cast out by then.”

Kierse frowned. “Because of Emilie?”

Graves said nothing as Theseus monologued. He didn’t speak again for several minutes. “In part because of what happened with Emilie.”

She wanted him to say more. To explain what had happened. Lorcan had accused him of killing her. What led them on this path?

“They never wanted me to be a part of the Druids, though,” Graves said. “They would have found any reason.”

Kierse knew that feeling. It was one that had connected them from day one. It didn’t answer her questions, but she knew he would tell her when the time was right.

“If you had to guess, what do you think the training will be like?”

He released a soft breath. “I wouldn’t worry about the training. It’s going to be about connecting your powers and learning to use them together. You’ve already done it, and I suspect it will be like riding a bike. Especially with the full moon.”

“Yeah. I guess I’m not looking forward to whatever stunt Lorcan is going to pull when I see him next.”

“I’m sure he’ll try to convince you of the binding ceremony.”

Kierse furrowed her brow. “What binding ceremony?”

Graves jerked his head toward her. When he realized she knew nothing, he smiled, slow and smug. “Oh, look at him, keeping secrets.” He laughed softly. “Classic.”

“Uh…I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“The soulmate bond has to be bound in a ceremony to reach full potential,” Graves explained.

“A ceremony…like what? Like marriage? Or like a werewolf mating?”

“Both and neither,” Graves told her. “It’s a magic bond. All magical creatures have a magic signature. The Fae gave Druids access to magic, and so Wisp and Druidic magic can be connected.”

“But you said both and neither. They’re connected to be more…powerful? For more powerful children?”

Graves eyes darkened. “I’m sure they believe that’s a benefit. Though wisps don’t have many children. A sacrifice of being long-lived.”

“So Lorcan has been planning to bind our magic together all this time and never mentioned it?”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“And you didn’t tell me why?”

“I thought you already knew. He’s the hero , right?” Graves said sardonically.

“I’m not going to do it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said with a sigh. “It was required when a bond mate was discovered in my day. But you’re not part of the Fae Council, nor did you grow up in their ranks.”

“No, they tried to kill me as a child. I can’t think they’d sanction this if they were still alive.”

“But they’re not,” Graves said.

“No,” she said, deflating at that reality.

She was the last wisp. She had a soulmate bond to the most powerful Druid. Something in that made perfect sense, if it was a continuation of a line. Natural selection. It didn’t make her hate it any less.

“Just ask him about it,” Graves said through clenched teeth. “I bet he bends over backward to reassure you about it.”

Kierse didn’t doubt that for a second.

The show came to a close with that anger and indignation still rattling her bones.

She and Graves stood with the rest of the audience for a standing ovation.

Lyra’s eyes swept to the seats that Kierse had purchased for the entire week.

She had noticed them before, but the intrigue was more intense this time. A question in her perfect dark eyes.

“Ready?” Graves asked.

“I’ll meet you in the limo.”

Kierse waited for Lyra at the backstage door. Nearly the entire cast had left before Lyra appeared, dressed in a tight black dress with a large designer bag slung over her shoulder. She didn’t look surprised to see Kierse.

Despite that fact, she still flushed slightly at the sight of her. “Hey.”

“You kept me waiting,” Kierse teased.

“You waited,” Lyra noted.

“I did.”

Kierse fell into stride with her as they headed for the elevators.

“Where’s the guy who is always with you?”

“I sent him to the car,” Kierse told her.

“Hmm.”

They stepped into the elevator, and they were halfway to street level when Lyra pressed the hold button.

“I don’t need a patron or money or anything,” Lyra said quickly. “I know the last time that we met, I was really forward, but I don’t actually…do theater like that. I’m a professional.”

Kierse almost laughed. “I can see that.”

Historically, so much of the backbone of the theater had been held up by, essentially, prostitution to the wealthy. Patrons had come into fashion once more, to allow actors and artists to continue to work. Most of them were not entirely altruistic.

“I’m just being honest.”

“I believe you. Nor am I hoping to pay to sleep with you.” Kierse actually did laugh then. “Does it look like I’ve paid to sleep with anyone?”

“No,” Lyra whispered.

“Nothing against sex workers. The oldest job and everything. I used to live in the attic of a brothel, and the workers were all incredible people. But I’m not propositioning you like that. I’m just interested.”

Lyra took a step back as if that were the last thing she had expected. “Oh.”

Kierse pressed the button that let the elevator drop down to street level. She gestured to the awaiting limo. “This is my ride.”

“You’re just going to go?” Lyra asked in confusion.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Kierse promised with a wink. “Unless you need a ride home?”

Lyra looked at the limo for the invitation it was. Kierse could see the moment she wavered. But she also knew Lyra’s backbone was strong and that she’d decline the help. Thinking that giving in to them too easily would lose her ground.

“No, thank you. I can get to the Barbizon on my own.”

Barbizon. Kierse filed that name away. She’d heard of the place.

It used to be an all-women’s hotel where artists could feel safe in the city during the Roaring Twenties.

It had been reopened recently for human and monster women to have a safe place of their own again.

It made sense that someone like Lyra would be living there.

And that she was definitely interested, if she gave Kierse that name so willingly.

“Suit yourself,” Kierse said and reached for the door of the limo. She was about to pull it open when she acted like she’d just remembered something. “You’re going to be performing at the Monster Con, right?”

“Oh, yes, we were just given the date for that. Will you be there?”

“Well, my beau is speaking,” she said, gesturing to the interior of the limo. “But I don’t have an invite. So, not sure yet. Hopefully we’ll see you there.”

Kierse could already see the wheels turning in her head. A night off from the show run, a performance where they’d have a room in a five-star hotel, and Kierse needed a way in.

She’d let her come to the conclusion on her own.

Kierse stepped forward, kissing both of the girl’s cool cheeks. “See you tomorrow night.”

Then she ducked into the limo and forced herself not to look back.

“Well?” Graves asked.

“It worked.”

“She confirmed that she’ll get you in?”

“Not yet, but she will.” Kierse was certain of that.

A yawn escaped her as George pulled away. She’d been going to so many midnight showings and not sleeping long enough during the day.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Kierse stifled another yawn. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been burning the midnight oil.”

“I’m a creature of the night.” He shot her a look, and she grinned. “Just as much as you are.”

He held his arm out. “Come here, creature of the night. Your work is done. You can relax.”

Kierse shifted across the leather in the back of the limo and into his arms. He tucked her in close as she rested her head against his shoulder. Her eyes immediately felt heavy. As if the weight of the world dropped off her shoulders, and there was just Graves’s security.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in the hallway.

Kierse glanced around, taking in the dirty drug den at the heart of Tribeca. She noticed the numbers on the doors. Her father’s anxiety flowed from him. A woman yelled out in Spanish.

But she clutched onto her mother’s hand and headed toward the middle of the hallway. She could see the door that they were trying to get to. She knew that something was waiting for them there. All she had to do was grasp the handle and push.

The world felt fuzzy at the edges as she reached for the door. She needed it. She needed to know what happened. 7020 was right there. All of her answers were within her grasp.

At the first touch of cool brass, she was elsewhere. On the ground, staring up at the building. Her parents were gone. This didn’t feel right.

She took a step and was in the apartment. Her parents’ apartment. Tears in her eyes. A flashing light meant something…something important.

No, no, she wasn’t ready. It couldn’t be now.

A hand shook her, and she burst back into consciousness. She was heaving as she leaned forward and put her head between her knees. Her vision was black at the edges, and the world seemed to waver.

“Wren?” Graves asked.

“A dream.” She brushed her hair off her face. “A nightmare.”

“The room?”

She nodded. “And then…an apartment. There was an alarm of some sort.”

He was silent a moment before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Your parents,” he said. “And what happened to them.”

She shook her head. “No.”

He rubbed gentle circles into her back. The silence dragged on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He was a comforting presence. Not pushing her to discuss what had happened. Not forcing out her own unspoken fears.

“What if I don’t face it?” she whispered into the silence, her eyes squeezed shut.

“You will.”

“How do you know?”

“You’re too brave and too stubborn to do anything else.”

She laughed. “I don’t think most people consider a thief brave.”

“I’m not most people, and you’re not most thieves.”

“Once I know,” she said, meeting his gaze, “I’ll know forever.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t undo it.”

“I know, Wren,” he told her, brushing her hair from her cheeks. “You’ll know when you’re ready.”

“You’re not going to push me to do memory work?”

“No.” He drew her face up to his and planted a kiss against her lips. “I trust you.”

And she saw in his thunderstorm eyes that he meant every word.