Chapter Thirty
Two enormous trolls barely managed to push their bulk through the doors before they reached for Graves. He evaded one, but the other grasped his arm. Magic erupted out of him, pushing the troll from his side. Graves grunted as he used the power. The amulet pushing his magic down, down, down.
Graves held his hand up as the trolls came for him again. “I can walk.”
Amberdash waved the trolls off. “Take him to the balcony, Ithra.”
“Come, Hunder,” Ithra barked, pushing Graves forward.
Graves brushed off his suit. Then, as he headed to the door, he threw his shoulder into Lorcan.
Lorcan’s gaze was furious. “Watch where you’re going.”
Graves’s eyes were murderous as he passed, and then he was through the door. The trolls were on either side of him, and he walked with his head held high as if he was casually taking a stroll rather than getting escorted into the midst of his enemies.
Amberdash snapped his fingers at another troll. “Watch these two. We wouldn’t want them sneaking out before the show.”
Kierse glanced backward and found a troll the size of a mountain keeping her and Lorcan from running off. Not that she planned to leave Graves alone.
“Amberdash,” Kierse called as she pushed past Lorcan to rush after them. “What are you doing?”
“I made my specifications clear.” Amberdash glided forward with an ominous train of darkness behind him. “This invitation is for one person only. No transfers. No plus-ones. He broke my rules.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m going to show him what it means to cross me,” Amberdash said before gliding away from her.
Lorcan glanced back at the troll as he tapped his temple. “We need to find a way out of here.”
Kierse yanked away from him, abandoning the mind speak. “You’ve completely lost it if you think that I’m going to leave Graves here.”
Lorcan shot another look at the troll. “He can handle himself.”
“Meaning you don’t care if he lives or dies,” she snapped.
“He can’t die. Neither of us can,” Lorcan barked right back. “So we need to secure the person who can.”
“Amberdash isn’t going to kill me. And if you get in my way, I’ll be testing your theory.”
“Kierse, wait,” he snarled. His arm went around her middle, and she fought him, but he was twice as strong as her on a good day. “Look.”
She trailed off as she saw what he was holding. The ledger. Her eyes rounded. “But I thought…”
“He gave it to me when he ran into me.”
“I don’t… Why would he do that?”
“Why do you think?”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“It is safer for you to get out of this party now.”
“Stop trying to tell me what to do and help me. I’m not leaving this party without him. Do you understand?”
Lorcan blew out a harsh breath. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”
“Now you’re talking,” Kierse said with a dangerous smile.
The troll pushed them back into the party, which had grown in their absence.
Kierse had to push her way through to find Graves standing on the balcony with a troll on either side.
He looked nonplussed as per usual. His hands were in the pockets of his suit pants.
His gray eyes surveyed the room as if he were the guest of honor and not someone to be made an example of.
“We have a treat tonight,” Amberdash said as he stood at the front of the crowd. “Our own warlock of New York City has graced us with his presence. Only he was not given an invitation, and I made my requests quite clear. Only the favored few would be allowed in.”
A cheer rose up from the assembled crowd. Kierse met Mafi’s widened gaze across the room. Mafi gestured to Graves and then the door. Kierse nodded. She didn’t want her in the crosshairs.
She was not the only one who looked uncomfortable with the proceedings.
Rio had a bored expression on their face.
They picked at their nails and took a step toward the exit.
Quint, too, was unimpressed by Amberdash.
She couldn’t blame any of them. They never could have taken Graves without the magic dampener.
There was a reason he was the warlock of New York.
“Many of you wondered why I brought you all together like this. Why only weeks before the convocation to decide what becomes of the Monster Treaty, I would want to get my friends and enemies alike in one place. I wanted to guarantee that all of you were on the right side.”
A set of trolls brought out what looked like a giant throne made out of polished marble.
It had to weigh a metric fuck ton, but they carried it as if it were weightless, setting the thing down on the edge of the open-air balcony.
It looked incongruous with the modern decor and city skyline beyond it.
Amberdash gestured to the monstrosity. “This is what I offer you. The rightful ruler of the city is not this man,” he said, gesturing to Graves, “but the man sitting on the Stone of Fal.”
Kierse gasped, jerking forward a step. Lorcan’s hand went into hers to keep her from jumping out into the empty space.
“Steady,” he said into her mind.
Graves’s eyes rounded for a split second.
Long enough for Kierse to see the panic in his eyes at the proclamation.
In theory, the four objects of the Tuatha de Danann didn’t always work right for those who weren’t of Irish descent.
They picked and chose who they spoke to and preferred their own ancestors to the common folk.
That didn’t mean they weren’t incredibly powerful. Amberdash having one was devastating.
“The Stone of Fal has proclaimed the rightful ruler for thousands of years. And today it will be me sitting on it.”
The stone itself was nothing special, just a flat block of limestone inserted into the ostentatious marble covering.
But he sat, and the tides turned.
The room shifted. Those in attendance hungered for power. For blood. And Amberdash would give them a show.
“As the rightful ruler, we will bring the illegitimate claimant low.”
Graves lifted his chin, shooting Amberdash a disbelieving look.
“I’ll have you know,” he said, turning back to face the riled crowd, “that I will not forgive this.” His voice was low and deadly.
The voice of a king. A very pissed-off king.
“You have all made an enemy of the warlock of New York. Those who leave now, I will release from this promise—you will no longer be welcome in my city. You should be afraid. You should be very afraid.”
Kierse shivered at the words. Her Graves wasn’t this person anymore. It was disorienting to see him bring back out the scary motherfucker she had first met.
He looked at the room as if he would personally hunt down and kill every person in attendance. Memorize their names and faces and enact his retribution.
She wanted to turn and leave, and to their credit, a few people did. Mafi and Rio were among them. Smart. Get out while they could.
Jason stayed, dragging his second, Maya, closer to the action. Kierse’s stomach turned, and for a moment, she and Maya connected. Maya had a grimace on her face as if she, too, didn’t condone this.
But most stayed. They stayed, and they cheered.
Kierse couldn’t leave. And when Graves saw her standing in the crowd, he almost faltered. His enmity doubled over at the sight of Lorcan at her back. As if he was supposed to have gotten her to safety. Graves should have known better. Lorcan couldn’t keep her away from him.
“A pretty speech,” Amberdash said. “But you won’t live to hurt another fly.”
Graves fully faced him. “You better kill me, Gregory, or you’re going to deeply regret your actions today.”
Amberdash waved his hand with a deathly smile. “Begin.”
Ithra threw a punch in Graves’s direction. Kierse gasped as he dodged out of the way of the first throw. The troll teetered forward, but though she was massive, she was more dexterous than her kind and came back up swinging while Hunder latched onto Graves’s arm.
He used more magic, shattering the wrist with a flick of his hand. Hunder roared in pain. The bones in troll’s bodies were so massive that they were practically hard as stone and nearly impossible to break.
“You can do better than that, Ithra. Surely that’s not the reason your son left your side and called you an arrogant monster.”
Ithra roared and lunged for him again, but Graves was nimble and had been practicing fighting skills for literal centuries. Plus he knew each of these people. He’d worked with them and blackmailed them and forced them into submission. They could get licks in, but they could never be him.
Graves popped a bone in her ankle, and Ithra screamed, tumbling to one knee. The entire building shook. Everyone took a step back as glasses of champagne shattered around them.
While Graves may have typically had endless magic, drawing on it while the amulet was present was like walking through wet cement. He was so much more powerful than her, so much more powerful than everyone, and even he could not fight against the amulet.
Another figure stepped out of the darkness to help control the fight. This was a hulking goblin the likes of which Kierse had seen guard the entrance to the Goblin Market. She didn’t know what he thought he could do against Graves that a two-ton troll couldn’t.
But he was in there, clamping a metal band around Graves’s wrist and then swinging a fist into his face. “Fuck you, Graves.”
Graves staggered back a step. “Brix, I should have known.”
Then he met Brix with his own fist. It connected hard with the goblin. Graves swept his feet out from under him, and Brix collapsed back onto the balcony floor. Graves stood over him, his magic flaring as he shattered the cuff into pieces.
“Still mad that no matter how many officials you fucked along the way, you were never delivered a promotion?”
“Fuck. You,” Brix said.
Graves kicked him in the stomach. “Or was it that you were skimming money under the table and working with the humans to carve out your own piece of Tribeca?”