Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Kingston looked affronted as he gazed upon the infused ruby Graves had saved for such a moment. It was a block on persuasion. He had specifically located this device in the event that he ever went up against Kingston.
“You’ve been planning this.”
Graves shrugged, acting unconcerned. “When exactly was the last time you got your hands dirty?”
“We don’t all listen to our base instincts,” he said.
“Except you did,” Lorcan barked in response. “Time and time again for over a hundred years.”
Kingston met Lorcan’s expression with one of deep loathing. “I never liked you, Oak King, but at least I respected you. Anyone who could go toe to toe with Graves all these years was someone to pay attention to.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me,” he said, his hand steady on the sword hilt.
Kingston laughed. “What do you intend to do with that?”
“Kill you,” Lorcan said easily.
“Graves?” Kingston asked. “Are you going to explain what is going on or must I listen to your enemy’s blathering?”
“The enemy of my enemy,” Lorcan said with a shrug.
But Kingston was only looking at Graves. “Is this what we have come to? Working against me? I knew that your new apprentice was more than she seemed. Immunity and portaling? And why were both the Oak and Holly King so infatuated? At first, I suspected that it was just to piss you off. It isn’t that, is it?”
“Oh, it’s that, too,” Lorcan agreed.
“Are you really going to stand there and pretend that you don’t know why this is happening?” Kierse asked.
“I can guess,” Kingston said. “I gather that you’ve killed lower-hanging fruit and now want to make sure I’m out of the way as you take over.”
Graves arched an eyebrow. “Lower-hanging fruit?”
“The high warlock of Edinburgh is dead,” Kingston snapped. “Archie Blair murdered in cold blood. Who could have done that?” His gaze swept to Kierse. “Or should I ask—what?”
No one said anything as the implication that Kingston knew Kierse was Fae ran through them. Who else had he told? It was too bad that he wasn’t leaving this room to tell anyone else.
“Then there was Dallas,” Kingston said, turning back to Graves. “Your leashed weapon shows up in Vegas and she ends up dead.”
Graves slid his hands into his pockets. “We know exactly what happened to Dallas. She was dead when we got there.”
“You’re really going to make me spell it out,” Kingston continued. “A warlock, a Druid, and a monster hunter walk into a room. Why are they all working with one girl?” Kingston gestured to Kierse. “One Fae.”
Kierse jolted at the word Fae. She was so unused to anyone else knowing, but there was no use hiding any longer. “That’s right. I’m the last will-o’-the-wisp. We’re not actually extinct.”
Kingston tilted his head. “It sounds like a mistake. One I had intended to correct during this trip, but it seems we can’t even enjoy this night.”
“You would say that,” Bram growled from the corner.
“Choose your next words carefully,” Lorcan snarled.
“You see, the reason Graves first thought that I had immunity is because my magic was hidden behind a spell. It kept me from being tracked by anyone, but it made me forget my heritage. And it was only after we used this sword to break it that we discovered the truth. It was how they kept me from you.”
He lifted his chin defiantly. “From me?”
Graves’s face was utterly devoid of feeling as he stepped forward. He wore his darkest mask for his hardest work. “We know what you’ve done. I tracked it across time. I didn’t want to believe it was you, you understand? I didn’t want to think that this all started with you killing Saoirse.”
Kingston straightened to his considerable height, puffing up like a penguin. He batted the sword from his face. “That is quite an accusation.”
Lorcan sneered. “You fell in love with her, and then when she wanted to leave, you nearly killed her. You’ve been punishing her kind ever since you didn’t get your way. Starting with my wife.”
“He wouldn’t do that!” Andrew said from behind him.
Kingston shushed him, his eyes hard, albeit not surprised. “Is that what she told you?”
“She told me you’re a monster,” Lorcan snarled. “And she was right.”
“And what proof do you have?” Kingston snarled.
“I have it in Dallas’s own hand,” Graves said, his deathly calm shattering. He pulled papers from his breast pocket and thrust them at Kingston, who let them flutter to the ground. Andrew bent down to retrieve them. “Your own accomplice outed you, and you stand there asking us to justify our actions. Justify yours! How could you do this, Kingston?”
“She was going to go to the council. I knew they would decide that I’d broken the monster-wisp truce. I didn’t live for hundreds of years by walking into my enemy’s hand. So I took matters into my own hands,” Kingston burst out with fury. He blustered in anger as he stared wide-eyed at them. As if he had only been waiting for the moment when his world would come crumbling down. “She told me before she left that she would inform the council. We all know warlocks have died for less.”