Chapter Forty-Seven

The brownstone was silent when she made it back. But the silence was no longer overwhelming or deadly. Instead, it was something good to come back to. Almost like... a home.

She headed up the stairs and was surprised to see Graves's light on in the room across from his second-floor study. She'd never seen what was in the room. A part of her little thieving brain said to find out, but as interested as she was, as much as she wanted to know all his secrets, she found that she wanted him to confide those secrets in her. That learning them from him was much more satisfying.

So, she turned toward the stairs, leaving him to his night, but just as she climbed the first step, she heard the doorknob turn. And when she glanced back, Graves came out the door in nothing but a pair of black running pants.

Her breath caught. She'd never seen him undressed. Even when they'd had sex, he had been fully clothed. He'd even had his gloves on. She was regretting that decision now.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he'd been out for an evening jog. Sweat gleamed on his muscled torso, the droplets collecting in every curve and crevice of his rippled abdominals. And that tattoo was finally, finally visible. Holly vines started around his wrists and snaked up his tense, veined forearms, up the ridge of his biceps and over his shoulder to the edges of his chest. The vines constricted around the muscles, and thorns bit into his skin as if they were physically piercing the flesh. It was intricate and mesmerizing and easily the most lifelike tattoo she had ever seen.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Just the sight of him standing there made her belly dip and core pulse. She wanted him again just as she'd had him when he'd pinned her against the library shelves. Rough and ready with the monster off the leash.

But much more terrifying was the fact that she wanted him. Graves the man. Not the monster. An all-new feeling.

Graves looked up then and saw her watching. Let her watch.

She swallowed, stepping back down the stairs and facing him. "Late-night run?"

"It clears my head," he confessed. "You're back late."

"I had a run-in with Lorcan," she said, her eyes drifting lower and lower to the Adonis V at the top of his pants.

He smirked when she glanced back up at him, not self-conscious in the least. Just walking toward her and filling the space. "How did that go?"

"You were right. He doesn't know about the spear. He bought the half truths that I fed him. I told him I was there to see a friend. He guessed we were going after Walter because he'd gone rogue."

"Good," Graves said, pleased. "I knew that we could use him stalking you to our advantage."

Her eyes floated over his corded arms. The biceps that bulged and those broad shoulders. "Uh-huh."

"You look exhausted," he said, closing the distance.

"I am," she admitted with a yawn. She covered her mouth and wished she could have suppressed it. She was tired, but she wouldn't mind if he kept her up all night.

He bridged the distance, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She normally would have pulled away from that touch. Yet she didn't pull away. More importantly, she didn't want to pull away.

Not from Graves.

Something had shifted between them. And it wasn't purely physical. In fact, it was terrifying mostly because they hadn't hooked up again since that night in the library. Still, things had changed. She had grown more open. She was beginning to be able to interpret the man who was impossible to interpret. And he was looking at her...

God, he was looking at her as if she was something... precious.

Something worthy of protecting.

How long had it been since she let anyone protect her the way that Graves had? She had her friends. They would go to the ends of the earth for her, but it was always her protecting them. And Nate was family, but she watched her own back and he knew it. Even Colette, who cared for her, was looking out for herself first and foremost. It was why they had always gotten along. These were her people.

And yet... Graves held her life in his hands, and she believed he would bring her to the other side. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

"You're shaking again," he said, tipping her chin up to look at him.

"I've never seen you like this."

"Out of a suit?" he asked.

"Exposed," she whispered.

He tipped his head. "I'm not exposed when I'm with you."

Then he dropped his lips down onto hers, and she lost all thought. He tasted like bliss, and she wanted to drown in him. Wrap herself up in this feeling forever and never break free. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his bare skin against her. Felt his heat and the hard planes of his stomach and the firm grip of his hands on her back as he clutched her to him.

For so long, every gentle touch had come with a volatile price, where she had no idea whether or not this was the time she would end up dead. And even with her closest friends, when they could never hurt her, she still flinched at the thought of that level of intimacy. Now here, with Graves, that washed away.

He wasn't going to hurt her. Her entire body melted into him at the realization.

And that was when her phone started buzzing.

Graves jerked back, his eyes narrowing. "What is that?"

"Uh, nothing," she said, realizing in a panic exactly which phone was currently going off.

Her burner.

And only two people had that number—Colette and Nate.

"If it's nothing, then let me see." He held his hand out. His eyes had gone flinty, as if he'd realized that this wasn't something she was supposed to have at the same time she realized he shouldn't know about it.

She'd kept the phone on her at all times, but it was on silent except for emergencies. She hadn't anticipated it ringing in front of Graves. Or at least she figured she would have been able to silence the phone and call them back at another time.

But that was not what was happening.

She dug the phone out, revealing the burner, which had switched off and then quickly began to buzz again.

Graves plucked the thing out of her hand, and before she could stop him, he answered it.

"Kierse!" Nate gasped on the other line before Graves could even say anything. "You need to get out on the street right this minute. Make any excuse you have to. I'm the closest one to your location, since I was on duty, and I'm picking you up."

The whole time Nate had been speaking, Graves's eyes were locked on her. And whatever kindness and understanding had been in them evaporated at the words coming out of Nate's mouth. He knew that she'd been speaking with them, that Nate had been patrolling the house, that she'd given him a way to contact her.

He was knowledge; he could easily infer what all of that meant.

She'd broken their bargain.

"Graves," she whispered.

But Nate was still rambling. "Kierse? Do you hear me? Ethan and a bunch of my wolves were drugged. We don't know if they're going to make it."

In that moment, she didn't care what Graves thought. Ethan was in trouble, and her brain short-circuited. She snatched the phone out of Graves's hand and pressed it to her ear.

"Nate? What happened with Ethan? He was drugged?"

"They think someone slipped him something in his drink and they're ODing."

"His drink?" she asked in incomprehension. Ethan wasn't supposed to be anywhere where someone could spike his drink.

"I'll tell you when I get there," he said, swearing foully. "Two minutes or I'm barging in that fucking house, Kierse."

And then he hung up.

Graves's hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes were like ice. He turned on his heel and disappeared. Shit.

She followed after him. "Graves," she called.

But she didn't dare cross the threshold into his room. Whether the door was open or not, it wasn't an invitation. She didn't fucking have time for this, but she had to say something.

Just then, Graves returned with a shirt on.

"You've been in contact with your friends and the Dreadlords," he said, his voice frozen over.

"I haven't been in contact with my friends."

"And Nathaniel O'Connor?"

"This isn't about Nate. It's about Ethan."

"Go save your friend," he said, gesturing to the door. "Your wolf should be here any moment."

"Don't do that," she said. "Don't close yourself off right now. This is life or death."

"I would never keep you from your friend's side in a time of need," Graves said. "But this isn't about Ethan. This is about our broken bargain. I made it very clear that any contact with your friends and associates would put them at risk and jeopardize this mission."

Kierse shook her head. "That's not what happened at all."

Graves had opened his mouth, ready to breathe fire like the dragon he was, when a banging sounded on the front door. Edgar and Isolde were long gone for the day. And there was only one person who had been sent to pick her up.

Kierse shot Graves a panicked look before hurrying down the stairs and yanking the door open. Nate stood on the stoop in all his glory, real fear on his face.

Graves had followed, looking furious. Nate couldn't set one foot inside the house because of the wards, but he wasn't stupid enough to try anyway.

"Hello, O'Connor," Graves said smoothly.

Nate nodded at him. "Don't mind my intrusion."

"Oh, I don't mind at all," Graves said in a manner that made it certain he did quite mind Nate being at his door. "Our bargain has already been broken." He was still staring at Nate as if just the wrath in his expression could make the wolf disappear. "So go."

"You don't mean that."

"You know that I do."

She snarled back at him, "I know you fucking don't!"

Kierse glanced between the two men. She could hardly process that it was all crumbling down around her right now. Right when Ethan was dying. When no one knew what was going on with him. She had to be there.

Mission or no. Betrayal or no.

She couldn't stay when part of her heart was dying across the city.

"We'll talk about this when I get back," she told him fiercely as she crossed the threshold to where Nate was standing.

Graves took a step away. "We both know you're not coming back."

Then he closed the door in her face.

"Fuck!" she cried.

It couldn't all be over. There was too much at stake for both of them for it to be over.

"Kierse," Nate said urgently behind her. He sounded ready to haul her down the stairs and into the idling car.

In the end, he didn't have to. She would choose Gen and Ethan every time. She would have to fix this thing with Graves after.

She turned on her heel and left his house, broken bargain and all.