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)
Kierse coughed around the smell, the eternal smell of magic. The fight between the Holly King and his mentor. One that he may win.
So she knew what she had to do. What she and Lorcan had to do.
She released a breath and then opened herself up to the bond. Lorcan’s gaze snapped wide to her as the bond exploded in her mind. At first separate and then all-encompassing as their magic melded. She would need it, need all of it, to make this happen.
“Now,” Lorcan said into their shared mental space.
Kierse wove her fingers through the cloud of magic as if it was a physical entity. Her hands knotted in it, and then she pulled.
Kingston screamed as his gaze shifted from Graves to Kierse. “You!”
“Me,” she agreed and then pulled more.
Her absorption was high as she finished what Saoirse had started that fateful day she’d ended up on Kingston’s doorstep. The years of killing wisps just like Kierse all to mend a wound that would never heal. To rid himself of a predator in the name of justice.
“Hundreds of years, Graves. Hundreds of years!” Kingston said in a high panic, suddenly wide-eyed with renewed terror. “And you disrespect me in this way.”
“Death to the Fae Killer,” Kierse said as the vast magic of his mentor rode in her veins.
“Give it to me, love,” Lorcan said. “We can get it all together. This is what you’re made for.”
Kingston fought back. His magic flared wide with a power Kierse hadn’t expected. She gasped, falling backward to the floor as their powers disentangled. She’d lost her hold.
Bram ran to her, then cradled her head. “Are you okay, lass?”
“I…” she said as she felt blood. “We can’t let him get away.”
Then Kingston’s magic flared bright white. Kierse shielded her eyes as it burned everything around it, pulling from an eternal well. A shout from outside the room and the next second, Kingston had a door open to another world.
“No!” Lorcan roared, rushing through the bright light.
Kingston shoved Andrew through the door. “I love you,” he said.
“Wait!” Andrew said with wide, terrified eyes.
Then Lorcan slammed the Sword of Truth through the meat of Kingston’s neck. The clean stroke made a million times on centuries-old training fields came to him when it mattered most. The blade sliced through muscle, tendon, and bone before Kingston’s head toppled sideways from his body. His magic snuffed out from the power of the sword, and Kingston’s final portal shut behind him with finality.
Interlude
Walter
Walter’s world went white.
He screamed as magic penetrated his force field, shattering it into a million little pieces and continuing to him. He was already low, dangerously low. The force field had to be ten times as powerful as his regular ones to keep out someone who could portal. Let alone someone like Kingston. And the fight to hold it in place this long, to have Kingston probing at the edges every few seconds, was debilitating.
Then the final strike was like a viper snapping its fangs at his throat. The magic dissolved into nothing, and Walter collapsed to the ground outside the room where he’d been hiding and fighting for control.
His head swam. His vision blurred. He clutched at his chest.
He hadn’t been drained in a long time. He was careful with his training, always topping up by working on his computer. It was a difficult way to recharge since he didn’t always have access to a computer, but sometimes even scrolling on his phone would help top him up. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t reach for his computer or phone only inches away from him.
He was going to pass out. Was this dying?
It didn’t seem possible after finally getting Graves’s attention again. He’d been young, only fifteen, when Graves had agreed to train him. He’d been making ends meet making sandwiches at a local bodega when Graves had come in for an Italian.
Walter had looked up at him in his fancy suit and wondered why he was in this area of town.
Graves had tipped his head and said, “You’ll do.”
“Sir?” he’d asked.
“Your mother. She died in childbirth?”
Walter had startled, surprised to hear this from a stranger. “How did you know?”
“You were in a fight last week,” Graves said. “And you don’t have a scratch on you.”
Walter’s mouth popped open in surprise. “Whatever they’re saying, it’s a lie.”
“They’re saying that they couldn’t lay a hand on you. That you had some sort of barrier around you. They said it was magic.”
“I…” Walter said, his hands shaking.
“You can’t let that get out. We have rules. I’m Graves,” he said casually. As if he hadn’t upended his life.
“Walter…” he muttered.
Graves nodded. “I know. Now finish up your shift. You’re coming with me until you can control it.”
“Coming with you where?”
“A place to train.”
“I have to work the rest of the week.”