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)
Her stomach twisted with something akin to desire. She didn’t like that she needed to remind herself that this was business.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, dropping her own jacket before striding across the mat.
Graves’s eyes tracked her. “Your weapons training thus far has been . . . unsatisfactory.”
She blinked. “Edgar said I was improving.”
“I feel like his methods haven’t been to my standards with the timeline we’re on.” He smirked, and she knew to be afraid. “So, I thought I would take over today.”
“I see,” she said.
She had very real memories of him dislocating her shoulder and tossing her on her ass the first time they ever met. He hadn’t broken a sweat, nor did he even need to change out of his suit.
Graves hefted a training spear in his hand and tossed it to her. She caught it with ease, the weight already beginning to feel more normal in her hand.
“I thought you could use some motivation.” He picked up another spear and tossed it back and forth between his palms. “Every time you get a successful hit in on me, I’ll give you an answer.”
She blinked. Well, that was sufficiently motivating. “To any question?”
“To this,” he said, producing a thick white envelope.
The kind of envelope that was meant for weddings and funerals. The face of the envelope was blank. No address or name or return label. She turned it over, noticing that a seal of a bird looking backward had been pressed into bright-red wax. It dripped down like blood pouring out of a wound.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“That is a question,” he said with a smirk as he stepped onto the mat.
She could strangle him. It was just like him to make it a game. But she had to train anyway. Might as well get something out of it.
“Ready?” he asked with a beckoning motion.
Fuck.
“Let’s go.”
“After you, Miss McKenna,” he taunted.
Kierse lunged with the spear in hand. Graves sidestepped her as if she had barely moved. He tapped her on the shoulder with the blade.
“Going to need to do better than that.”
She gritted her teeth and tried to work on her focus. She had spent only three days working on this. There was no way she was going to be as good as Graves. But if she could just quiet her mind, slip into that place like slow motion, she could get a hit on him. She knew it.
With renewed fervor, she moved forward with her honed instincts. Graves blocked the first blow, and then he stepped forward, thrusting his spear toward her. The practice tip blazed in her line of sight. Her eyes widened, and then she pushed her body to the breaking point, shifting into slo-mo and dodging the blow. The tip of her spear barely caught the sleeve of his white button-up.
Graves’s expression was appreciative. “You already look better than yesterday.” He scooped up the envelope and passed it to her. “As to your question . . .”
She took the envelope in her hand and opened it, removing heavy cardstock festooned with gold embossing that read:
Montrell and Imani Cato cordially invite you to their
residence for a black-tie affair to celebrate their union.
Then it listed a date and time, as well as one additional guest welcome.
“A test for you,” he said simply.
“A test of what?”
He gestured to the mat again. “Shall we?”
She breathed out heavily. This was going to be laborious. But he wasn’t wrong—she was getting better.
Kierse hefted the spear in her hand, then practiced the thrust that she and Edgar had been working on yesterday. The first one was sloppy, all arms. He narrowed his eyes at her as he got the first hit with ease. And the second hit. She missed the third on a razor’s edge and nearly tossed the thing down in frustration. Maybe that first hit had been just damn lucky.
But she wouldn’t give up.
And the next time he came at her, she used her old knife reflexes to switch thrusts and catch him off guard by half a second. Just long enough to get a hit in.
She put her hands on her knees and glanced up at him for answers. “A test?”
“Of your magic.” He offered her water, which she gulped down as he continued, unfazed. “I already know that you can walk through wards. You’re walking through mine every day.” Was that bitterness in his tone? “I also know that you’re a good thief. You got into my house undetected. I’ve looked into your past.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What about my past?”
“Do you want me to answer that?” he asked.
She ground her teeth together. She had more important questions to ask. “No.”
“Sources confirmed you’re good at what you do.”
“Great. So what is this test?”
He lifted his spear, and she nearly groaned. This was going to take all day. But maybe that was the point. Maybe he wanted her training to take longer so he could tire her out and extend the answers as long as he could. It was a good strategy. No, an excellent strategy. Because now she was fucking invested.