Page 221 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Laz shut the door tight and watched for a moment as the cauldron left the premises. They’d done it. It had gone off without a hitch.

Laz deposited the cart at the entrance and headed for the break room.

It was only then that Walter’s voice came over the line. “I’ve been booted out of the system.”

He had just gotten inside and asked, “You’ve lost the footage?”

“It’s gone. Everyone out now.”

Edgar grabbed the last remaining things from his locker, ready to exit the premises, when Walter said, “Kierse has gone offline.”

And Graves was already gone.

Part VI

the summer solstice

Chapter Sixty-Four

Kierse’s head was pounding. Her mouth felt like she’d swallowed cotton balls. Her eyes stung like she was cutting fresh onions. She could still smell the laced chloroform. It turned out she could still be knocked out by the shit, even as a wisp. Good times.

“Graves,” she said out loud.

No response. She couldn’t feel the earpiece in place anymore. Fuck.

She peeled her eyes open, but she might as well not have. The room was pitch black. She could only make out that she was in some kind of conference room from the strip of light coming in under the door. The only sound was the air-conditioning system blowing cold air on her face. She was tied to a wooden chair with some kind of thick rope. She wiggled against the bindings and immediately hissed as they dug in.

Not just ropes. Iron.

She froze like a deer in headlights. Who else knew what she was? That iron would be a better restraint than rope?

They had been careful. She’d been wearing her glamours all the time around New York, just as she had in Dublin. The only people she’d told she was Fae, besides those who had been there the night she had discovered her identity—Graves, Lorcan, Ethan, and Gen—were Nate, Colette,Oisín, and Niamh. None of them would betray her.

But that wasn’t true, was it? Rio knew. Though she doubted this was their handiwork. No, therewasone other person in Manhattan who knew her identity. The person who had put the spell on her to begin with—Cillian Ryan.

The cultist’s voice came back to her then:The Curator has been waiting for you.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

They’d been so careful. And still, somehow, she’d been caught in the trap. She might have been strong enough to burst through rope, but the iron had enough of a dampening effect to make her nauseous. Or was that the drugs? Maybe both.

The question was: what was he going to do with her?

Kierse started to tremble. How long before anyone noticed she was missing? She was supposed to get herself out of the Plaza. Graves would be back at the brownstone already. Lyra had been dealing with a diversion. Everyone else had their own getaway plans. She was alone.

Fear filled her lungs and wracked her nerves. The darkness was normally her friend. She needed to get it together. She would not be the girl afraid of the dark. She was a survivor. She had gone through worse than this. Jason had beat her senseless and left her for dead. She’d nearlydiedfrom god magic last year. What was a little darkness when she was already filled to the brim with it? She had embraced the darkness long ago.

She would get herself out of this situation. She just had to wait. It was a common tactic. Sensory deprivation. Leave a mark alone with their thoughts long enough and they’dsing whatever tune you wanted.

Kierse wasn’t one of them. She went deep within herself. To the vault that she opened and closed and opened and closed. The memory that grounded her, that hadalwaysgrounded her. The thing she had thought about when Jason had hit her was the same place that brought her out of the magical connection with Lorcan was the same thing that kept her mind clear of panic.

Kierse jolted at that thought. She and Lorcan were connected. She could sense him, but only barely—maybe he’d already left the Plaza but wasn’t yet back to Brooklyn. They weren’t bound through the ceremony yet, and she had never tried to reach out to him. But if there was ever a time…

She closed her eyes and let her breathing even out. She ignored the feel of the iron biting into her skin and went deep into her magic. She felt that connection at the center of it all. The thrum that beat against her breastbone like a second heartbeat.Lorcan.

It purred to life at the acknowledgment.

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