Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Kierse kept her hand on the spear as they drove through the wintry New York streets and into the underground garage.
As they pulled to a stop, she asked, “Will you show me the sword?”
“If you like.”
She picked up the spear, ignoring its tempting words, and headed out of the car. Kierse followed him to a wall of the garage, where he ran his hand down to reveal a slit in the stone. Graves used his magic to unseal it first. Next was a retinal scanner and a fingerprint before it made a puff of air and opened to reveal a hidden room. Inside the room was a vault—very new, very shiny, very impenetrable. And on top of the high-tech system, wards were etched into the giant thing. Graves was not fucking around.
After he disengaged a system of locks and released the wards, what lay within was finally revealed.
Only one object—a shining blade.
“The Sword of Truth,” Graves said, taking it in his hand.
Kierse’s eyes widened. She could feel the blinding light, its own perfect blend of magic. The opposite somehow to the spear that she held in her hand.
Destiny and power enough to make the world tremble.
“What does it do?” she whispered in awe. The spear radiated in her hand, this close to another artifact.
Graves lifted the blade parallel to his face. “It shows the truth in all things.”
Another truth was whispering in her ear.
Something is wrong.
Then she felt it. The house was . . . silent.
Not just sound but magic.
“The wards are down.”
Graves’s gaze cocked toward the house. “Someone is here.”
They rushed out of the vault, spear and sword in hand, taking a set of emergency stairs that led to the first-floor landing. Then up the next flight to the Holly Library, where the doors lay ajar and a sliver of light shone through.
Graves raised the sword, blazing his path as they entered the room as one. She nearly lost her grip on the spear when she saw what awaited them inside the library. Gen and Ethan were held by Druids with knives at their necks.
At the center, seated like royalty, was Lorcan Flynn.
Chapter Sixty
“Gen!” Kierse gasped. “Ethan!”
She stepped toward her friends, but Graves held her back. She wanted, needed to go to them. But she couldn’t. Not with Lorcan and those knives between them. Even with the spear, they would be dead before she got to them.
“Kierse!” Ethan cried. “Oh god, Kierse.”
“Are you hurt?”
“We’re okay,” Gen said. A tear ran down her cheek. Her chest heaved slightly. “It’ll be okay.”
Kierse whirled on the Druid. “Lorcan, what are you doing? They’re innocent. Let them go.”
He straightened at her assessment. He was dressed in a navy three-piece suit, his tie knotted at his neck, his brown leather shoes polished to perfection. His beard had been trimmed, and his dark hair fell over his forehead. She could see a holster for a pair of guns against his sides, and his hand lay casually on a black blade.
“Hello, Kierse.” His eyes were welcoming. Not at all the predator he posed in Graves’s home. “You didn’t answer any of my texts.”
“You’d think you’d get the message.”
“He broke through the wolf lockdown,” Gen said through tears.
“The Dreadlords were all chained up for the moon. There was nothing we could do,” Ethan added.
“This isn’t your fault,” she insisted. “I’m so sorry.”
“This goes against our arrangement, Lorcan,” Graves said with lethal calm.
“Oh, does it? I wasn’t aware,” he asked with amusement. “Did you think I would miss tonight?”
A muscle feathered in Graves’s jaw. “What do you hope to get out of this?”
“I thought that was rather obvious. The magical artifacts that belong to my people.” Lorcan’s gaze drifted from the spear in Kierse’s hand to the sword in Graves’s. “You had to know that it would come to this, Brannon.”
Graves flinched at the name.
“Oh, does no one call you that anymore?” Lorcan laughed, but it was a cold, vicious laugh. Like he’d known how it would hit. “You cannot go around collecting Druidic artifacts and expect no one to notice.”
“I knew you would notice,” Graves growled. “It is another matter for you to enter my home unprovoked. There are consequences.”
“Tonight is the only night that isn’t true.”
“Why?” Kierse demanded.
“Have you not told her?” Lorcan asked. “No, of course not. Secrets all around.”
“She knows,” Graves said. He adjusted his grip on the sword. “It’s not quite midnight. Why don’t we take this outside?”
Lorcan chuckled. “No, I think this is the perfect place for this. The Holly Library, you’re calling it now, Graves. A little on the nose, don’t you think?”
Then she looked between them. Graves surrounded by holly, a wren beside him. Lorcan across from him on the winter solstice. She remembered the oak trees lining his property. The acorn on his business card. The clean, crisp scent whenever she was around him. All he was missing was a robin, and he’d be the consummate Oak King.