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)
Not Kierse.
She had never seen him before. He was a handsome man with dark-brown hair slicked off of his face and ever-watchful eyes. He wore a black suit and a little hat. Maybe just a driver? But he held himself as if he were more than that. Like he had a persona he could shed in a moment’s notice. So a spy? She wasn’t sure.
She was still in her pretty dress, and if Kierse couldn’t listen to her, then he could.
“Hello,” she said, pushing at her glasses and smiling in his direction.
He looked her up and down, calculating how dangerous she was. “You must be Maya.”
She put a hand to her chest, pushing her magic toward him as she asked, “You’ve heard of me?”
“I have.” An easy smile hit his features. Was that natural or staged?
“Do you think that I’m pretty?”
“Yes,” he forced out. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
A little resistance made her excited. So few could resist her.
“What’s your name, handsome?”
“George.”
“Hello, there, George. Have you heard the good word of Sansara? We preach peace for all.”
“I’ve heard it,” he said flatly, more resistance to her.
“Were you coming to the market to hear the good word?”
He hesitated before saying, “No, I was following you.”
“Me?” she asked with a bright smile. Okay, she was in. More questions to wrap him up. “Or someone else?”
That cute smile returned. “You and someone else.”
Oh, clever. He’d walked around that one. Not many people could.
“Would you tell me why you were following me?”
“No,” he said as his hands went into his pockets.
“Hmm,” she said, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Usually, she was deeper by now. He must have been trained in some way. “Why don’t you come in with me to Sansara? We can have a long talk.”
“I have other plans.”
Her eyebrows rose. She needed to push harder. She used her hand this time as she said, “You don’t anymore. Do you understand?”
He straightened as if her magic had finally woven into him. He resisted, but it was futile. He wasn’t strong enough.
It wasn’t persuasion exactly. That was what Jason had thought. But it didn’t work on him. Not like that. Or at least he was much better at hiding it. It was simply answers. She could always get to the bottom of what she wanted, and once a person answered her questions, they wanted to do whatever she asked them to.
“Won’t you come inside with me, George?” she asked, putting her hand on his sleeve. “I have a lot more questions.”
Part IV
Sansara
Chapter Thirty-One
“I thought this would be more…glamorous,” Kierse admitted as they walked through the creepy laboratories beneath the old Visage building.
Lorcan grunted his agreement behind her. Graves hadn’t said much of anything. He was clearly hurting, holding his side as blood dripped down his face. He should have been healing faster than this. She’d wanted to ask Lorcan more about the brass knuckles, but she didn’t want to talk around Graves, either.
It was strange enough the three of them were working together.
“It’s never been glamorous,” another voice said in the gloom. “And you’re going the wrong way.”
Quint appeared in the hazy red light of the underground tunnels. It made sense that he would be here since his father had worked for the company like Beckham had.
“We’re going the right way,” Graves said, stepping past him.
“You’re losing too much blood,” Quint shot back. “A vampire always knows.”
He was right. They were a walking advertisement with the blood trail they left behind. She didn’t know if Quint was on their side or not, but he hadn’t attacked them in the gloom when he could have with all of them injured.
“Graves,” Kierse said. “Maybe we should stop.”
“No,” he snapped.
Kierse flinched at the sound of his voice. Yes, he was hurting, but the whole day was a disaster.
“The exit is this way,” Quint said, pointing the other direction. “It’s faster, too.”
“Fuck off,” Graves said.
“You’re wasting your breath,” Lorcan muttered. “He’s too damn stubborn to listen to anyone else.”
Graves stilled, a hand on the railing. He didn’t say anything, but his labored breathing rattled. It sounded wet. As if a lung had been punctured. Not good. Really not good.
“We need a healer.”
“No,” Graves said again, short and sharp.
Kierse sucked on her teeth and then glanced toward Lorcan and Quint. She didn’t know what to do here. She trusted that Graves knew the way, but in his state? He was barely standing up.
“This way,” Quint prompted again.
“Why are you helping us?” Kierse asked.
“Believe it or not, I don’t want to be on the bad side of the scariest motherfucker at the party,” Quint said.
“Self-serving I understand,” Lorcan muttered.
“And…Lyra vouched for you.”
Kierse’s eyebrows rose. Lyra, huh? So their complicated relationship was more than just eternal enemies. “I see.”
“Are you coming or not?” he asked gruffly.
“No,” Graves said. He white-knuckled a railing as if he was going to proceed down the stairs.