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)
“Yes,” Kierse said through tears.
“My mum always said that wrens sang open the doors to faerie. That one day a wren would take us home,” Shannon said, wiping the tears from Kierse’s eyes. “So hold onto this and it will take you home, too.”
“Okay, Mum,” she whispered.
“Adair.”
Her father took her out of her mother’s arms, and Shannon grabbed a backpack, heading for the door.
“Mum!” she cried.
“I love you,” Shannon said.
Adair hurried Kierse into a closet. “Just like we practiced, remember?”
Kierse nodded and huddled in the corner, folding herself up as small as she could while her father piled their clothes and coats on top of her. The door to the closet shut just as their front door burst inward.
She could hear her mother’s shrieks as a soft pop sounded twice. A loud thump that Kierse now realized must have been her mother’s body.
“Shannon!” Adair cried.
Another pop. Another thump.
“Was there a third?” a distorted voice asked.
“I heard there may be a child,” a woman said.
“Can you feel them here?”
There was a long pause. Kierse’s younger body shivered under the weight of the coats, trying to keep from breathing too loudly, terrified they could hear her heartbeat.
“No. There’s no other magic in the apartment,” the woman said.
“Good.”
Then the door opened and slammed again.
Kierse yanked free from the memory. Blood ran out of her nose, over her lip, and down her chin. Tears coated her lashes. Graves handed her a tissue.
“I remember. I remember it all,” Kierse whispered as she wiped at her nose. The rest of the memory rang through her like a gong. “I think I’ve known for a while. The Fae Killer showed up. That’s who that was.”
“Yes,” Graves guessed. “Your mother didn’t leave soon enough, and he found you.”
“How?”
“I think the woman with him senses magical signatures. Possibly she can hunt them. Though I haven’t heard of any warlock with that ability.”
“I see,” she said softly. “I remember the rest. The block—I think the block is gone. I came out of the closet, and they had bullets in their chests. I ran out to the street to tell someone what happened, but as soon as I was away from my mom, I forgot what wisps were. I forgot I had parents,” Kierse told him, staring down at her hands. “Like the spell wrapped itself around me like a cloak once I was free.”
“He made you forget magic. So your past would disappear as well.”
Kierse nodded. She glanced up at him. “He stole everything from me.” She set her mouth. “I would like to find out why.”
She’d witnessed her parents’ deaths. Now and in the past. And no matter how much her mind had shielded her from it, how much the spell had removed, it still lived in her. No wonder she’d had trouble opening up. No wonder she struggled to accept love. From Gen and Ethan and now Graves…
Her hand went to the wren necklace at her throat. Her mom had said that a wren would sing open the door to faerie. That she should follow it, and it would take her home. Was that literal? Or metaphorical? Prophecy? It sounded like an old wives’ tale.
“Not everything,” she corrected. She touched the necklace. “I kept my wren, and it brought me to you.”
“It did,” he agreed.
“Had you ever heard that tale, about wrens opening the doors to faerie?”
“Never,” he said. “Not in all my years.”
It didn’t even make sense, but she would have to investigate it once they’d gotten the cauldron. That was still the most important thing.
Graves drew her into his chest. She’d thought she would feel worse after finding out about her parents. And while she was melancholy, it was a relief to have the truth. That was all she wanted. The Curator had the rest of the answers.
“We need to get the Curator alone. I want to ask him questions.”
“I have some questions for him as well,” Graves said, flexing his hands. Kierse had an idea he had a very specific kind of questioning in mind. “Let’s secure the cauldron. Then I’ll use my resources to track him down and get your answers.”
“Deal.”
“Good,” he said and kissed her again.
Tomorrow their world would change, but this…this would stay the same.
Chapter Sixty-One
Kierse adjusted the elaborate mask on her face. “Is it right?”
Lyra turned to her, and Kierse got a full look at Lyra’s mask—a half face of gold with a turquoise gemstone between her brows and brushed turquoise metallic paint along her cheekbones. It had golden wings from either side, made of a wired tulle that shimmered with the same turquoise glitter. The whole thing matched the fitted turquoise dress she’d had designed for the theater benefit tonight.
“It’s not tight enough,” Lyra declared and twirled her finger.
Lyra retied Kierse’s mask, which was black metal that almost molded to her features. It was filigreed with rose gold along the edges and had rose-gold beaded fringe dangling from the bottom of the mask, obscuring the bottom of her face. One side had black feathers splayed out up and over her dark hair. It was beautiful but deceptively heavy.