Page 73 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

“Yes. It is too powerful to leave out in the open, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

She glanced at the innocuous case, hating that he was right.

“I wish I could keep it with me,” she said, thinking of how much she preferred to have the thing in her hand than in a box.

“It’s a powerful tool. And we are not the only ones looking for it,” Graves told her. “I’d be wary of its strength. There’s a reason there’s a trail of bodies in its wake.”

“And should I trustyouwith the spear?”

His smile was quick and vicious. “Definitely not.” He stepped forward, smoothing a lock of her hair. “Not yet, at least. I haven’t proven myself to you.”

She swallowed and took a step back. “Where should we keep it, then?”

“I thought I would give you access to my vault.”

“Your vault?” she asked in surprise.

His eyes lit on her face. “Since I revealed its existence, I’m sure you could break into it at any point.”

“Obviously,” she said with no pretext of humility.

“But I want you to have access to it.” He wasn’t any closer, and somehow she could still feel the heat of him. The pull to him that never quite went away. “You have access to anything you want while you’re here. To me.”

She nodded. “All right.” She picked up the case. “Let’s do it, then.”

Graves guided her back downstairs and reprogrammed the vault, hidden in the depths of his underground garage, to identify her. It hissed open softly to reveal an empty room where five months earlier the sword had been housed. With trepidation, she set the spear inside and watched it seal shut with finality.

The end of their first bargain.

Tomorrow would begin anew.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Day two without a nightmare. Kierse woke up feeling more refreshed than she had in months. She didn’t know if recovering the new memory had kept the rest at bay or if her mental state was more secure now that she had a plan. Either way, she would take the win.

The jet lag was a problem, though. She hastened into a shower in the hopes the hot jets would wake her up. They only did half the job, and she spent some time on her appearance before going in search of coffee.

Voices drifted up to her, and Kierse jogged downstairs to see Gen and Laz sitting at the kitchen island while Isolde filled their plates with heaping portions of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. Kierse blinked and blinked again. She was used to Graves’s house being a somber place. Somewhere he slid in and out of mysteriously in the dead of winter, not a raucoushomewhere Laz could regale them with some tale about a pirate ship in a sunken cove.

Isolde slid a cup of coffee to her, and she took it with a muffled, “Thank you.”

“I almost had it, too,” Laz said. “But then the coast guard showed up and half the crew were arrested.” He shook his head. “I barely escaped, watching as they hauled up my score.”

Gen’s eyes were wide with wonder. “That is quite a tale.”

“How much of it is true?” Kierse teased as she reached for a lemon raspberry muffin.

“All of it,” Laz said with a twinkle in his eye.

Isolde shook her head. “I’ve heard many such stories from Mr. Kates over the years,” she said. “Embellishment is the name of the game.”

He put his hand to his chest. “My dear Isolde, you wound me.”

Gen giggled.

“Any word from Graves?” Kierse asked.

“He’s in the library,” Laz said. “Something business related came in.”

---