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)
But then his head was buried in the folder Laz had given him and the moment passed. “Is this right?” Graves finally asked.
“Afraid so.”
“A Midnight Frolic?”
“Yep,” Laz said.
“I saw that they were having it in the Aerial Gardens,” he snarled. “I didn’t realize it’d be a frolic.”
Kierse and Gen looked between the two men. Kierse asked, “What’s a midnight frolic?”
She held her breath. How many times had she asked questions like this of him last time and received veiled, half hearted answers? She never expected Graves to trust her with information. Never.
But he began as if oblivious to her whirling thoughts. “One of the theaters on Broadway has a rooftop theater that was closed during the war.”
“They destroyed it, you mean,” Laz said with distaste. “Fucking vamp-werewolf showdown that nearly toppled the entire theater.”
Graves shrugged. “Before it was destroyed, they held a Midnight Frolic. It was an elite gathering in the aerial gardens with productions that showcased rising talent. If the show did well with the top clientele, they’d move the actors onto Broadway. Sort of a make-or-break moment.”
“Okay,” Kierse said, trying to figure out how this tied into anything. “And this is why they’re putting on Midsummer?”
“Yes, the first frolic is going to be the night of the auction,” Laz said.
“Is this a problem? Didn’t we already know it was going to be a show?”
Graves tapped the papers absentmindedly. “It’s not just a show. It’s a frolic.”
“Think gentleman’s club meets nightclub,” Laz explained. “Things get rowdy.”
“And if the Midnight Frolic is cover for the auction, then it’s going to be…messy.”
“Oh,” Kierse said, seeing how that could spiral out of control.
“We need a list of people in attendance,” Graves said. “Entrances, exits, staff.”
Laz waved his hand, typing onto a tablet. “Way ahead of you.”
“Bring in Schwartz if you need him.”
Laz grinned devilishly. “Excellent.”
It was the first time that Kierse had been privy to Graves’s inner dealings. They’d worked together to get the spear. They’d stared at blueprints and vault codes and ran reconnaissance on Third Floor. But she hadn’t been there when he’d gotten the blueprints. There had been no investigation into which vault to open. He’d already had the information, or he’d left the brownstone to “work.” It was a completely different process watching him collect it.
He’d said he was going to win back her trust. Still, it was surprising to watch it unfold.
Graves retreated into his phone after that, and Laz deep into his work for the auction. And by the time they came out on the other side of the Battery Tunnel, Kierse was captivated by the sight of her city. Her heart thrummed in time with the pace of buildings dashing by.
Tall skyscrapers, storied brownstones, bodegas, restaurants, and theaters. And most of all, people and monsters alike. More people out and about on the streets than there had been five months earlier. As if they’d all finally put the worst of the war behind them for a new, glittering future. The heart of Manhattan, her home, was alive and well.
Gen put her hand to the window. “It’s beautiful.”
“It really is,” Kierse confirmed, mesmerized by all that she had left behind.
George zipped through the city, and soon enough they were pulling into the underground garage. They exited the vehicle and took the elevator to the first floor. Kierse stepped through and could almost feel the house sigh in welcome. Home.
“Kierse,” Isolde cried, coming around the corner and throwing her arms around her. “I know you hate hugs, but…”
“I know. I know,” Kierse said with a laugh. “God, I missed you.”
Isolde swatted a kitchen towel at her. “Just my cooking.”
“Always your cooking,” Graves agreed.
“I’m glad you brought our girl back,” Isolde told him.
Graves’s eyes were on Kierse, warm and inviting. “As am I.”
“Edgar finished up with the extra bedroom you requested. He should be down any moment,” Isolde said. “Oh, there he is.”
Edgar moved like water down the stairs, his black suit impeccable, his hair threaded through with silver. “Sir, you’re back early.”
“We made good time,” Graves said.
He bowed slightly at the waist. “I’ve made up the third bedroom. I can show our guests to their rooms if you like.”
“As it pleases you,” Graves said.
“Edgar, old man,” Laz said, clapping him on the back. “I think I remember the way.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Kates,” Edgar said formally. “But as it’s my job…”
“Yes, yes, let’s do it. We might need a fourth room set up anyway,” Laz said as the pair began to climb the stairs together.
Kierse glanced at Gen. “Well, what do you think? Still want to stay here?”
Gen bit her lip, her eyes wide as she surveyed the space.
“I’m sure Colette would have you. Or Nate,” Kierse suggested.
Nathaniel O’Connor was a notorious werewolf alpha who ran Five Points, a nightclub in Chelsea, home to the wolf packs. He was also one of Kierse’s oldest friends. She’d been thieving for him almost as long as she’d known Gen. She needed to make time to see him, now that she was home.