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)
“I killed you.”
“Not quite,” he said on a laugh. “Just paralyzed me from the waist down…for a time.”
She shook her head. “I watched you die.”
“Then we’re even, right? You were supposed to be dead, too.”
She was, but Gen had found her. She’d taken her revenge. Was this his?
He leaned the cane forward, resting both his hands on it. “It took hours of physical therapy and rehabilitation and more magic than you’ve ever seen in your life to get me back to where I am today.” He lifted one arm wide. “Am I everything you remembered?”
“I remember killing you.”
He smirked. “Try again.”
“What do you want?”
Jason laughed. “You know the answer to that.”
Kierse refused to be baited. He always played these games. Made them guess, and the guess was never quite up to his satisfaction. She was trapped in her own personal hell with her very real nightmare.
“Not going to answer?” He clenched his jaw. “Then I suppose I should just finish what I started.”
He nodded at the goon to his right. The man drew a gun and put it to her temple.
“Wait!” she gasped.
He tutted at her, holding a hand up. “Don’t make me go to such extremes. Why do you always make me do this?”
Her stomach flopped at the words. The bullshit manipulation she had endured so savagely for so long. It had taken her years to accept affection. Only with Graves’s help had she learned to want something more in her life. She hated how small she felt in his presence.
“I don’t know what you want. Revenge?”
Jason laughed. His gaze cut her down. “Did you think this was some elaborate trap just for you? That I give a fuck?”
Kierse had thought that. All the rare and priceless pieces he’d had on display. They all made sense if they belonged to Jason. He was the most talented thief she had ever known. Well, after her…
“I don’t know,” she said softly, letting herself look small to him while her mind raced ahead. “Your people said you’d been waiting for me.”
“Not you specifically,” he said with a snort. “You, the little thief who thought they could best me. And then look at the shit that appeared before me.” He gestured to her. “My thieves don’t get caught. Did I not drill that into your head enough?”
She cleared her throat. “I guess not.” Inside, she was furious. He had taught her that. He’d taught her all of his tricks. But that didn’t mean that he knew all of hers. She was going to find a way out of this.
“So where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I know you can’t help it, but I trained you. You’re better than this.”
“The cauldron,” she guessed.
“Ding, ding, ding.” He leaned forward. “Where is it?”
She shrugged. “Gone. Guess I wasn’t too bad of a thief, after all.”
“I see. She doesn’t know shit.”
He turned his back on her as if he really were ready to discard her. She couldn’t let that happen.
“Why did you do it?” she asked him before he reached the door.
He stopped. “Do what?”
“Erase my memories after you put the spell on me.”
He whirled around. Surprise lit his face. “So the spell is broken?”
“Yes.”
All the puzzle pieces fit together, suddenly. Graves had never met Cillian. He wouldn’t have known Jason and Cillian were the same man, the one who had stolen her life away twice. Lorcan had said Cillian was dead—someone had killed him during the Monster War. She was that someone. After she’d paralyzed him, he must have gone underground. Scrubbed his identity and started a new life. One where he was still a thief, but no longer the one who got his hands dirty. It was just like him. Everything fit—and still, the question lingered…
“Why did you do it?” she asked again. “I know that you’re Cillian Ryan. A Druid, cast out after you drained Sansara. You were doing dirty underground work using magic while you started your thieving ring. Before you became this…”
“Is that what you think? I was saving children like you.” He gestured to her. “You were never going to amount to anything. You weren’t going to do anything except die like the rest of your kind. Just like the rest of my little ring of thieves.”
She bristled with indignation. “I’m a survivor.”
“You were a half breed,” he snarled. “Half of anything is a whole of nothing.”
“But you could have told me,” she yelled at him.
He shrugged, unconcerned. “Then what use would you have been to me?”
And it was that simple. He’d stolen and used children as a way to bring in followers who were devoted to him. As she had been. As had they all. Now he had a cult around him and his stupid tree. More power, more followers, more devotion, just like he wanted.