Chapter Fifty-Six

They left Mafi at the entrance to her rooms and wound through the labyrinth of hallways with practiced ease, bypassing patrons and security. Kierse stayed close to Graves's side, recognizing the layout of the passageways as they got closer to the vault.

"I'm surprised Mafi let you read her," Kierse said. "She seemed particularly upset about it in the past."

"She had every reason to be. I didn't hold her trust well in the past," he said. They turned down another hallway.

"What else did you get in that touch?"

He frowned. "Enough."

Which was why Dr. Mafi hadn't wanted Graves to read her in the first place.

"I have never been more thankful that you cannot read my mind."

"Again, I don't read minds," he said in exasperation. "She practically shouted the blueprint over to me. It threatened to give me a headache. The other stuff was what I already knew. Sometimes when people try so hard not to think of something, all they do is think about it."

Kierse shivered. "No wonder everyone is terrified of you."

"Hence the gloves," he said, showing her his bare hands. "Around this corner."

She peered around the next corner and saw two vampire guards standing in front of a door. "We have arrived at our destination," she told him. "It's the only guarded door. It practically has a sign on it that says, Steal from me."

"You have a twisted mind."

"Says the man who reads minds."

He shrugged. "I come by my powers honestly."

"As do I," she said as she retrieved a knife concealed in her corset. "How should we do this?"

"You take one. I'll take the other."

She took a deep breath. She knew she could take down a vampire. She'd killed Orik one on one in a darkened alleyway by hitting into slow motion. She didn't want to burn out her reserves before she even got to the vault, though. Thankfully, she didn't need to kill these vampires. Just knock them out. Maybe head-on wasn't the right call.

"I have another idea."

"Which is?"

She twined her hand around his waist and glued herself to his side. "Remember what you said to me at Imani's? I'd have to play the part of your pet?" She gestured to her outfit. The white lingerie that screamed Red Velvet girl.

"I adore your mind," he rumbled with affection.

Graves waited for her cue, and then they turned the corner with Kierse slumped against his side. His hand brazenly cupped her ass as he staggered forward, apparently drunk. He swayed with the force of his act while she giggled nonsensically beside him.

"Hey, you there," the first vampire said. He was a beefy sort. Tan skin, dark eyes, and more muscles than brains. "No guests down this hallway. Go back to where you came from."

Graves kept walking and flicked his pin at them, his British accent growing thicker and more imperious. "I am a Man of Valor. I can... do what I want."

The guards rolled their eyes, relaxing at his inebriation. "Sir, we're going to have to ask that you find a room." Their eyes lingered on Kierse now, assessing her scantily clad form, the pulse of her blood through her veins. "Take your... companion with you, and all will be well."

As the first guard stepped forward to intercept them, they moved as one. Graves went for the beefy guard as she intercepted the second. He was slighter than the first. But he had keen, hungry eyes, and they were squared on her.

She darted forward, throwing a knife from her corset toward his jugular. The guard backpedaled, narrowly missing her deadly aim. He was fast. Vampire fast. She had to be as fast or faster to survive this. And in heels at that.

He came at her then, raising a baton and striking toward her head. She grasped another knife from her boot as she ducked and dodged his swings. He had a longer reach, and she needed to get in close to use her knife. She was really missing her gun right about now. Too bad they wouldn't have fit in her outfit.

The guard brought the baton forward, nearly smashing into her face, and she said, "Fuck it."

Time slowed to a crawl. Her magic buzzed all around her as she actively engaged it. A swirl of golden light that only she could see swam around her.

The baton flew toward her face as the guard tried to crack her jaw. She dodged the blow and then stepped into his space, not giving him a chance to bring his baton up again. She kicked him in the kneecap, whirled around, and brought her knife across his chest. He gasped in shock more than pain, then blocked her next hit, sending the knife tumbling out of her reach.

"Motherfucker," she swore as she skidded away from the monster and back into regular motion.

"Going to enjoy feasting on your blood, you little bitch," he snarled.

She dropped to her knees, sliding his feet out from under him. She rolled to her back and kipped up to standing. The vampire had crashed unceremoniously to the floor, but he was already lunging for her as she returned to her feet. She moved out of the way, jerking into slow motion. She retrieved her second knife from her boot and rammed the side of it into his skull with blunt force.

The vampire stumbled. His eyes went wide with surprise, but he was still heading toward her. She would have to be quick and decisive. Maybe her knife wouldn't cut through bone, but it could do some damage.

Then, just as she darted toward him, Graves appeared. He moved at shocking speeds—such that even her slow motion could barely track him. A blur of heat and gold light as he intercepted the blow of the vampire, deflected it with his forearm, then twisted the vamp so he had his back to Graves's chest. Time slowed even further as the vampire realized he had been bested. Then Graves snapped the vampire's neck, and he crashed to the floor, dead.

Kierse came back into motion with a wince. Everything had been so quiet. But as soon as she returned, it was like the world magnified the sound.

"Thanks," she said, breathing heavy. "Think anyone heard us?"

Graves shot her a look that said all she needed to know. "Open the door across the hall."

Kierse jumped into action. She jiggled the locked door handle and then tested it for magic, but there were no wards. She smiled and put her other skills to work. She withdrew a trusty hairpin and flipped the lock in a matter of seconds. So much for Mafi's parlor tricks when her bobby pin could do the same thing.

A closet. A totally normal janitor's closet. Excellent.

Kierse and Graves hauled the guards inside. She frisked the vamps, removing a handgun from one guard, stuffing it into her boot. The second guard had a key card like what they used for the checkpoints, but it had the Men of Valor logo on it. She slid the card into her opposite boot, then closed and locked the door again.

Graves drew a ward on the doorknob, applying his magic to it in a sizzle. The smallest hint of golden light and the smell of leather and new books wafted in the air. Sometimes she still couldn't believe that she'd never smelled it on him before.

"Now for the fun part," she said.

They turned back to the vault. It was relatively innocuous, just a large, gray metal door with a handle, save for the key card reader on the wall next to it.

"You're up," Graves said.

Kierse straightened her shoulders and felt the excitement rush through her body. She loved this part. It made her blood sing. All of that magic she had used was about to be restored. Her hands pulsed with excitement, and she quickly shook it off and got into position.

She tested the handle. Locked, of course.

Then she drew her magic to her and felt around for the wards. She blew out a breath. Walter hadn't skimped on this. The warding system was like trying to break into a bank vault. It had a pattern and what appeared to be a warded combination lock. She'd never seen anything like it before.

"What is it?" Graves asked.

"It's a combination lock like on a vault. I have to break the wards in a certain order for you to go inside with me."

"Or what?"

She frowned. "Do you want to find out?"

"No."

"Do you have to go inside with me?"

He just leveled her with a flat look. He wasn't coming this far and not going inside that room.

"Fine," she said with a laugh. "Go be a lookout."

Kierse got to work as Graves hung back at the other end of the hallway. She steadied herself and pretended like this was any other lock she had opened before. She ran her hands across the various wards, recognizing the sun symbol threaded through Walter's warding. The wards didn't touch her—she just absorbed them—but if she didn't want to be caught doing it, then she needed to figure out this code and figure it out fast. Quick hands, skill, and intuition made a thief valuable.

She looked at the problem from Walter's point of view. From the basics that she knew of computers from her time deactivating security systems and taking down cameras, a computer worked with a series of zeros and ones. Coded correctly, it functioned as a brain, figuring out complex problems and generally running daily life. But if the code was wrong, the back brain stopped working. She needed to find the system code.

Unfortunately, there were an infinite number of possibilities. Without the ability to hear the clicks of the vault, she didn't know how she was supposed to solve it. She couldn't just try at random. That would trip an alarm.

Her eyes roamed the carved marks. There had to be something different about them. Some of the wards were darker than others, as if they had been carved in harder. She didn't know why that was. Why would he even set it up this way? Then she saw that there appeared to be something else in the whorls and swirls than what she had seen before. This was a different kind of ward. Possibly one he had invented himself.

Her finger stilled over the top ward. XII. Roman numerals. Her eyes drifted around in a circle. She shifted to the next one. I. And the next. II. And the next. III. The next was IIII, not the IV she had expected, but she still saw it for what it was.

It was a clock.

But why would only certain numbers be darker? Maybe they were used more often. She could see the numbers I, III, IIII, V, IX. Which only marginally narrowed it down.

Kierse slid the key card out of her boot. She ran it across the slot like at the checkpoints, but instead of it opening, a password punch code appeared below the card.

"Graves," she called. "There's a password on the wards. I can't break them separately. I'm ninety-seven percent sure that will trigger an alarm. I have to know the password."

"Great," he growled in frustration. "What can I do?"

"You knew Walter. Think of what he would use as a password. A numerical password that includes one, three, four, five, and nine. I'm thinking tech related. Think code or math or something."

"What if it's Louis's code?" Graves asked.

"Would you let Louis pick the code?"

"Of course not."

"I doubt Walter would, either. It's his system. It's his code," she said with more certainty than she felt.

She just thought of the person she had trailed through the market that day. Walter had so much pride in his work. It was obvious in every inch of his systems and the way he repaired them that day. She didn't think he would give away any more control than he had to.

Graves looked at the keypad for a span of a few seconds, and then, without even running it by her, he punched in a series of numbers.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, waiting for an alarm to blare and for someone to come and stop them.

Then the system disarmed like magic. The door began to slowly slide open.

"How?" Kierse gasped in relief.

"Pi was Walter's favorite number. He liked that it was a constant. 3.14159."

"Thank god that you love knowledge," she muttered. "I never in a million years would have guessed that. That could have been a disaster."

Graves shrugged. "It felt like a solid gamble."

He was fucking lucky he was right.

The door finally opened all the way, releasing with a soft hiss. Kierse's breath caught at the sight before her. The gallery was even more beautiful than the ballroom, with black marble floors ingrained with gold. The walls were a silky-smooth red, and built-in white display shelves lined one wall, full of all manner of objects, including jewelry, gemstones, a large gold crown, and some very old-looking books. The other wall displayed what she assumed was priceless artwork. Kingston would kill to be in this room.

But her eyes came back to the item at the center.

A closed black box that contained the most valuable item—the spear.

Finally within her grasp.

Kierse still needed to break the wards just to be sure the system didn't come back online while they were stuck inside. Now she could do that without setting off an alarm. Walter was smarter than Graves had given him credit for. This system was genius.

She carefully deactivated each of the wards, absorbing the golden glow into her, getting a brush of Walter's magic—incense and rainstorms. She didn't want someone to bring the system back up and lock Graves inside. This was her exit strategy for a room with only one exit.

"All right," she said with a nod.

Then, with a held breath, she stepped into the trophy room. No alarm tripped. No sound went off. There was perfect silence.

"Graves, look at this place," she said, turning to face him.

But he was still on the other side of the door.

"Get out of there," he yelled just as an alarm blared.

The door slammed shut between them before she could cross the threshold. The lights went out, and she was cast into pitch blackness.

Kierse lurched for the door only for arms to roughly grasp her. "No!" she screamed, reaching for her knives or the gun in her boot.

But a heavy object came down on her temple, and she collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.