Page 217 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

She shucked her clothes back off and changed hastily into her pretty party dress and heels.

“What are you doing?” Lyra asked.

“Someone has to make them leave,” Kierse argued.

“So it should beme,” Lyra said.

“You’re the better actress, but you have another job.”

“This isn’t to script!”

“We’re not in a play,” Kierse countered.

Graves’s sigh was audible. “She never follows the plan.”

Kierse shot Lyra a cheeky grin and turned around so the mask could be retied. “See. He knows me.”

“Don’t die,” Lyra said as she cinched the ribbon.

“Walter?” Kierse asked.

“Security footage loop running in your section,” Walter informed them. “Go.”

Kierse pushed the bathroom door open and sauntered down the hallway. Both men tensed at the sight of her. They were both human. One of the problems the Curator hadn’t considered when he’d fired his band of monster mercenaries was that human men were incredibly vulnerable in this world. They might have weapons, but none of them were prepared for monsters.

“Ma’am, the party is the other direction,” the first man said.

She executed a drunken stumble. “I thought it was this way.”

“No,” the second guy said. He pointed the other direction. “Back the way you came.”

“Oh, sorry.” She might not be as good of an actress as Lyra, but she’d nearly reached them, and that was all that mattered.

“Ma’am,” the second guy tried again.

Kierse let her Fae reflexes take over as she launched herself at the first guy. She jabbed her hand into his throat, and as he was gasping for air, she brought her knee up between his legs. He doubled over in pain. While he put his hand on his jewels, she retrieved his gun and slammed it down onto the top of his head. The poor guy dropped like a sack of potatoes, unconscious.

She whirled to face the second man, who was still fumbling to react and draw his weapon, and trained the gun on his head. He raised both of his hands in horror. She ripped the earpiece out of his ear.

“What are you?” the guy asked with wide eyes.

“A goddess,” she said with a grin.

Then she stepped into the man’s guard and brought the gun down against his temple. He collapsed next to his colleague.

“We’re good, Lyra.”

The girl dashed out, and together they hauled the unconscious men into the bathroom. Kierse quickly frisked them, using their own handcuffs to tie them to the grab bar affixed to the wall in the accessible stall and removing their communication devices and weapons.

“Excellent work,” Lyra said with appreciation.

Kierse curtsied.

“Get moving. You have two-and-a-half minutes,” Walter said.

Kierse and Lyra hurried out of the bathroom. Nearby was a loading entrance into the kitchen’s walk-in cold storage. Laz had placed wards on those locks as well so only the team could go in and out of them. Lyra disappeared inside and came back with the second cake box, Cake & Cake in a pretty blue font on the lid.

“Shall we deliver our cake?” Lyra asked.

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