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)
So they had to continue with the lie that her magic was immunity.
“She has a second ability, though,” Graves said.
Kierse’s head whipped to the side. It was not at all subtle. But she couldn’t help it. Graves was telling Kingston that she had another ability. She had thought it strange that he had even reached out to Kingston when they were going to be in the UK, but to willingly offer information to him? What in the hell was happening?
“Ah, keeping this one locked up?” Kingston asked.
“We weren’t going to discuss it with anyone, but it hasn’t been working properly,” Graves said.
Kierse looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “I didn’t realize we were going to tell anyone about this.”
Graves took her hand, gloves off, and she would have killed to know what he was thinking in that moment. But she had to trust him. She did trust him. They’d fought for that trust, and he’d earned it. If he was telling Kingston about her—something he never would have done before—then he was doing it for a reason.
“The real reason I called and planned to visit was because we are having difficulty unlocking her second ability,” Graves admitted.
Kingston’s grin widened. “And you wanted help.”
“A second opinion,” Graves amended.
“Help,” Kingston shot back.
They stared at each other, neither breaking, and for a moment, she thought that Graves might say, “Fuck it,” and give up. But after a moment, her unbreakable man bent just a little.
“Fine. We’d like your help.”
“Excellent!” Kingston said, clapping his hands together. “How can I help?”
“She has overlapping abilities with you.”
Kingston’s eyebrows shot up. “Truly? That is most unusual. Portaling or persuasion?”
That was the question—portaling or persuasion? They were both valuable in their own right. It was honestly obscene that someone as powerful as Kingston had both. While persuasion could get her out of a lot of situations, she always wanted an easy exit. She was still a thief, after all.
Graves looked to her. He couldn’t read her mind, but he still allowed her to guide the conversation that he had walked her into. He trusted her to make the decision. He trusted Kingston to help them.
“Portaling,” Kierse said.
Graves nodded once as if that was the right answer.
Kingston’s eyes widened. “As a secondary power?”
“Yes,” Graves said. “I can help with her immunity. I thought a master would be better for portaling.”
Kingston preened. His eyes were now alight, and he leaned forward. “Well, I would be a better teacher for that than knowledge over here, wouldn’t I?”
Graves looked to the ceiling. “Here we go?”
“You would teach me?” Kierse asked.
“If your mentor allows it,” Kingston said with a wide grin.
Graves looked like he’d rather eat glass, but he gave a curt nod. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Great!” Kingston said. “Let’s get started.”
Chapter Eight
As they wandered the streets of London, Kierse understood Graves’s methods for training. They clearly came from his many years with Kingston, who was currently offering scant advice on how to actually portal and seemed to be more tour guide than master warlock.
“And that’s the Tower of London,” he proclaimed. “You know they say that if the ravens ever leave the tower, the crown will fall and England with it.”
Graves sighed heavily. “This again.”
Kierse glanced between them. “What does this have to do with portaling?”
“History lessons are good for you. Memorize this spot,” Kingston insisted as he had with half of the city. “Ravens are important.”
“So important they clip their wings to keep them inside the Tower,” Graves said.
“Well, I would have clipped your wings to keep you here, too,” Kingston added.
“You tried,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking up at the black birds just visible atop one of the gray stone walls.
“Not hard enough, apparently.”
“Warlocks don’t share territory.”
“We managed it for hundreds of years,” Kingston reminded him.
“I was traveling all over the world those years.”
“Why do I feel like we’re talking about something else?” Kierse said. “What does this have to do with the ravens?”
Kingston raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward on his cane to look pointedly at his old apprentice. “You are marrying this woman and she doesn’t know?”
Graves shot him a look of pure death. “Why must you always stick your nose in things?”
Kingston smiled broadly. “Because it’s fun to rile you.”
“Okay. Care to fill me in?” Kierse asked.
Graves sighed and then nodded. “As you well know, my mother bestowed upon me the name of her Irish clan, Brannon.”
“Yes, you made it very clear that only people who you dislike still call you that.”
“Brannon hasn’t felt like me for many hundreds of years,” Graves continued. “It belonged to her and her heritage, and when I was cast from Ireland, I left it behind where I could.”
Kierse never felt like Brannon suited him anyway. No, he was just Graves.
“Well, Brannon means raven.”