Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
When the M dropped them off, they left the platform and walked out onto the streets of Midtown. East 53rd Street was the sort of glam that Kierse avoided unless she needed some easy pickpocketing and was willing to put up with the mess of tourists. The subway exit let out in front of a chain store that sold luxury watches and somehow had survived the war, and across from a tech company that had overtaken a historical 5th Avenue building.
People crawled all over the sidewalks, and the trio huddled together as they traversed the crowds, turning left onto 5th and then crossing the street to 52nd. Nestled in amidst the high rises was a five-story building with a wrought iron gate and handrail up the stone steps—the entrance to Club 21. The front edifice was all floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on an elegant front porch. Known more commonly as 21, the club had been a speakeasy in the 1920s and a place for celebrities and politicians to dine and drink over the years. While it had closed its doors during the war, it, too, had made a revival in this newfound peace.
Gen and Ethan climbed the stairs first. Kierse put her hand on the railing absentmindedly as she followed, then quickly pulled it back, hissing.
“Are you okay?” Gen asked.
Kierse glanced down at her hand. It was red and irritated, but not bubbling or blistered like it felt like it should be. But damn, this iron was not her friend.
“Just…iron.”
Ethan tilted his head. “What’s wrong with iron?”
“Having a bit of an allergy since the spell came down,” she admitted. She showed them her hand. “Drains my magic, too.”
“I can fix the first part,” Gen said, murmuring a few words.
Her palm miraculously healed over, erasing all the pain.
Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “Whoa! Look at you!”
Gen flushed. “Yeah. I’ve been training, too. Maybe you’ll show us what you can do other than strut around with all those muscles.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’re doing more than just working out.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Kierse teased.
The front door opened as they approached. Standing in the doorway was Nate’s second-in-command, Ronan. A cigarette was already dangling from his pouty lips as he strode outside.
Ronan’s dark eyes tracked the three of them before landing squarely on Gen. “Hey, there,” he said with a hunter’s smile.
“Hi,” she squeaked, suddenly shy.
“I was hoping you’d show up,” Ronan said.
Kierse and Ethan shared a look that filled her with glee. Of their trio, Gen had always been the least interested in relationships. It was delicious to watch her deal with Ronan’s attention.
“We’ll meet you inside,” Kierse told Gen and then pushed Ethan across the threshold.
The interior was every bit as beautiful as the exterior. A large, circular bar took up the center of the establishment, and model airplanes and boats, football helmets, and other toy paraphernalia hung overhead. There were a dozen circular tables covered with gingham tablecloths. The chairs were filled with Dreadlords and their friends and family, the restaurant full to bursting with those eager to celebrate the happy couple.
Corey jumped to his feet when Kierse and Ethan stepped into the bar. His jaw dropped as he took in Ethan from head to toe through the dimly lit bar. Ethan jerked forward like he was going to run to him. Kierse wanted to encourage him, but she knew her own history with Ethan was murky. She didn’t know how Corey felt about it all, only that he loved Ethan very much. The rest Ethan would have to figure out.
“Hey,” Ethan said as they approached. His Adam’s apple bobbed with discomfort. “It’s good to see you.”
Corey, to his credit, flashed him a too-pretty smile. “Miss me?”
Their builds were more similar now than they had been months earlier—they were both stronger since the split but emotionally injured from the break. Yet where Ethan’s prized curls had been shaved down, Corey had let his glossy dark hair grow nearly to his shoulders. Different, and yet the same in all the ways that mattered—at least, Kierse thought so.
Ethan dipped his chin at Corey’s tease. “Every day. You don’t hate me?”
“I might have cursed you and your ancestors for a few months.”
“My poor ancestors. What did they ever do to you?”
Corey arched an eyebrow. “Allowed you to get away with this stupidity.”
“Well…”
“I thought you had a few more weeks.”
“I do, but…”
“We broke him out,” Kierse interrupted. “Enjoy!”
Corey pulled her into a hug. “Thank you. The Roulettes owe you one. I owe you one.”
Kierse would have gladly accepted a favor from the Roulettes, the gang on the Lower East Side that Colette partnered with for protection for the brothel, but she didn’t feel that this was an owed moment. “I just want you both to be happy.”
Kierse left them alone, grabbing a snack from the bar as she wandered deeper into the bar. She’d been so hungry lately. Using her magic all the time was exhausting.