Page 73

“Graves, my boy!” Kingston crowed.

“Kingston.” A smile appeared on Graves’s face, almost unbidden. He was clearly displeased with his mentor’s unannounced arrival, and yet somehow, Kingston could still manage to get a smile out of him. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t think I’d miss this Monster Conference that you’re hosting.”

“I’m not hosting,” Graves said.

“It’s in your city!” Kingston said, pulling his top hat from his head and tucking it under his arm. He was a penguin of a man, the picture-perfect caricature of a British gentleman. Complete with suit tails, crisp white cravat, and shiny black cane.

“That doesn’t mean…” Graves began.

But Kingston cut him off, turning to face Kierse. “Hello, my dear.”

“You remember my former mentor, Kingston Darby,” Graves said. He gestured to Kierse. “Kingston, my apprentice, Miss McKenna.”

The formality took her by surprise. She had been so used to him using her first name or even her nickname that her last name felt like a barb.

“Kierse,” she said quickly as she held her hand out. “Feel free to call me Kierse.”

Kingston took it and shook vigorously.

“I certainly do remember her,” Kingston said. His smile was wide and sharp as knives. “When my apprentice takes on his own apprentice, it is always of note. Though I believed you a wren.” Kingston glanced at Graves and back. “You managed to keep one alive.”

“Barely,” Kierse joked.

Graves shrugged. “We’ll see for how long.”

“Charming,” Kingston said with a laugh as he clapped Graves on the back. “Well, the pleasure is mine as always, Kierse. Are you attending the conference as well?”

“I’m not,” Kierse said.

“Well, that’s a bloody shame. We could use some more warlocks present.”

“That’s questionable,” Graves said, glancing at Kierse, silently willing her not to contradict the statement.

She wasn’t stupid enough to do so. Graves only trusted Kingston about as far as he could throw him. He might like the man and open up around him, but trust was a different matter. Yet another thing they had in common.

“You never did like the thought of our kind being out amongst the other monsters,” Kingston said.

“Indeed,” Graves agreed. “Bottom feeders.”

“Well, I won’t disagree with that sentiment. Most monsters are self-centered and single-minded.”

“Not so different than yourself,” Graves muttered.

Kingston guffawed. “I have my moments.”

“As does Graves,” Kierse said easily. “How long are you staying?”

“Well, I certainly can’t leave before the festivities,” Kingston argued.

“Go home,” Graves cajoled.

“The convention is only a few days, and you’ll need more voices of reason with this Treaty discussion happening.”

“Which is precisely why you should leave.”

“I am reasonable,” Kingston argued with a laugh.

“You have different rules in England. You should keep them there,” Graves told him.

Kingston waved his cane around. “You could learn a thing or two from us.”

“We learned to get rid of you,” Kierse said cheekily. “Tea in the harbor. Red coats going down with them. All that.”

“Got a backbone on this one,” Kingston noted with a laugh. “Well, it’s only a few days. And I didn’t bring a red coat.” His smile widened.

“I very nearly sent Imani home in a body bag,” Graves growled. The warlock territorial nature rearing its ugly head. “I didn’t ask for visitors in my city.”

Kingston straightened, finally perceiving the threat. “Are you suggesting that I’m not welcome?”

“I’m suggesting that you should give notice,” Graves said.

“Since when have I had to give notice?”

“I’m working.”

“You could use a vacation,” Kingston quipped.

“You were my mentor,” Graves said. “You were there in my formative youth. That is the only reason that I am not demanding you leave my city on the next plane for England. I don’t have the patience for this.”

“You’re always so touchy when the solstice is approaching.”

Graves sighed like he found him insufferable. “Just go.”

Kierse thought Kingston might actually go at Graves’s insistence. It was his city, after all. While he was not at the height of his power by any stretch of the imagination, he was still formidable, especially in his own home.

Then Kingston laughed, slapping Graves on the back again.

“I do love your antics. I’ll take my usual room until I can get into the Plaza tomorrow.

Make a reservation for me at the Met in the morning.

I want to recharge before I go.” He dropped his hat back on his head.

“Will Isolde be cooking tonight or should we go out?”

Graves looked like he wanted to bury a sword through his mentor’s back as Kingston headed toward the stairs.

“I’ll have Isolde prepare dinner,” Graves told him.

“Jolly good!” he said, waving his cane.

Kierse watched him go in shock. Kingston was the only person Kierse had ever met who threw Graves completely off guard. He could get away with things no one else could.

“You’re letting him stay,” Kierse said in surprise.

“Did it much look like I had a choice?” Graves growled.

“Without wasting a lot of power…no.”

“It’ll be easier to deal with him quickly and send him on his way. Just another fucking complication.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a breath. “Follow me.”

Her stomach dipped in anticipation as she went upstairs with him and entered his personal office. He shut the door behind them, and the buzz of his magic enveloped the room as he made the room soundproof.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“Happened?”

“With you. Something happened. You’re being avoidant.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I…didn’t want to say anything in front of anyone else.”

He went around to his desk and leaned against it, waiting for her response. “No one else is here now.”

“Right.”

Still she said nothing. Her silence was deafening, and he finally dropped his head with a sigh.

“What is Lorcan’s plan?” Graves asked. “He’s coming to the conference. So you spoke to him. What did he say?”

“Well,” she said gently, “it isn’t to mess up the heist.”

His eyes crawled over her as if he wanted to read her thoughts without touch. “Are you okay?”

It was then that she realized she was shaking. That she was terrified. Of what had happened and Graves’s reaction. Telling him right now was probably not the right time to do it, and yet there was no other time.

She was not okay. She had kissed Lorcan under the influence of some stupid soulmate magic. She had gotten herself out of it, and she had walked away. But she had still kissed him. A part of her had wanted to kiss him. A part of her hadn’t wanted to leave at all.

“Lorcan kissed me.”

A soft laugh of disbelief escaped him. “Of course he did.”

“Graves, it was…” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. Maybe you should just read me.”

“Forgive me. I don’t ever want to see that.”

He reached into his desk and pulled out a disassembled handgun, working over the parts with expert precision.

“What are you doing?” she asked slowly.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Putting together a gun.” She took a step toward him, hand raised. “I’m not sure tonight is the night to go after him. He’s at the height of power right now.”

“He’s expecting me,” he said as he inserted the magazine with a soft click.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said.

“And why is that?”

“Because I walked away,” Kierse said. “There was a—I don’t know—magic connection when it happened. Like the binding was trying to happen without the ceremony. I used your technique to regain control and broke it apart.”

“You resisted a binding?” he asked in apparent shock.

“I guess so. He didn’t think that was even possible without the ceremony.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I guess it’s because I have Saoirse’s magic.”

Graves’s eyes widened. “You what ?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s what Lorcan said. That’s how he knew immediately after the spell. Our magic was already connected once, and it was like…reincarnated into me.”

“Oh,” he said as if that made perfect sense. “That explains a lot.”

“Anyway, I told him I was making the choice that Emilie couldn’t.”

Graves paled at those words. “What did he say to that?”

“That she couldn’t make a choice because…”

“Because she’s dead.”

“And you killed her,” Kierse whispered.

“Ah,” he said, setting the gun down between them. “That I did.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I tried to use my magic to break the bond,” Graves said, staring down at the weapon. “She asked me to do it when we ran out of options. I thought I had that kind of power. I was so arrogant.”

Kierse’s stomach twisted at the thought. “Did you do it?”

“No. Well, I thought I had started to make it work, but it went all wrong so fast.” He shook his head. “I removed memories of the bond and her soulmate and everything related to it.”

“I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“It is delicate work, and I rarely use it anymore. One change can have a ripple effect through the entire mind. It can crush a mind. The one memory taken from you has left a ripple,” Graves explained. “Just touching it causes you physical pain.”

“And that’s what happened with Emilie? You did too much and she died from it? That sounds like an accident.”

He looked directly into Kierse’s eyes when he said, “I want you to understand that I am not the hero.”

“None of us are heroes.”

“I am what he says I am in this. I was overly confident, arrogant, and convinced of my rightness. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Trying to do anything to shred the bond with my own crushing power.” His eyes never left her face as if he wanted to impart the truth to her as clearly as possible.

“But that still sounds like an accident,” she tried to argue.

“It was not an accident,” he said, his voice stern. “I decided while it was happening that I’d rather she was dead than with him.”

Kierse’s heart ached for him. “You were so young. That doesn’t sound like the reason it happened and more like your own self-loathing.”

“I should loathe myself after what I did. What Lorcan says is correct. I robbed her of her choice. I killed her, Wren. I did it.”

Her stomach twisted.

“And I swore I wouldn’t make that mistake again,” Graves said, reaching for the gun. “I’ll kill him this time.”

She laughed as she put her body between him and the door. “That’s ingenious. Killing him would solve this problem.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

“I don’t,” she said, putting her hand to the front of his suit.

“Lorcan isn’t the problem.” Graves scoffed.

“He’s not. Even if he was, now is not the time to kill him.

Not this close to the solstice. Not with the heist tomorrow.

” She swallowed as she took his hand in hers and let her absorption drop. “Not when I love you.”

Graves’s brow furrowed. His perfect lips opened in incomprehension. “You…love me?”

“I do.”

And then she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.