Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“You seem fascinated by my garage,” Graves said.
“I like exits. A thief’s first resource is their surroundings,” she told him, slouching back into the seat. “Stealing is as much or more where things are kept as what you need to get.”
He listened as if interested in learning her trade. “How so?”
“Well, it’s in the architecture. Front doors aren’t for stealth. They’re guarded. You have to look at the place as a blueprint. Entrances and exits, visible or made.”
“Made?”
“Sometimes it’s easier to cut through the ceiling or break through hinges than pick a lock. It depends on if you want anyone to know you were there.” Kierse lifted her hands and held them about a foot apart. “Think of it like a rat. Rats don’t come in through the front door. They climb through the walls, rip apart insulation, bite holes into surfaces. They’re agile little thieves. You don’t even know they’re there if they don’t want you to. Mimic what they do. Use the house to your advantage.”
“Hmm.” He considered what she said. “Blueprints and rats. It’s like you’re an architect. You have to build the property in your mind to gain the advantage.”
“That’s a good analogy.”
“I’ll have to think on that. We can use that mapping to our advantage when we infiltrate the Men of Valor.”
“That’s where my favorite part comes in: reconnaissance.”
“Indeed,” he said thoughtfully. He was silent another moment before changing the subject. “We’re going to a hospital.”
“I’m not sick.”
“While everything I’ve told you has been rather . . . mythical thus far, there is a science to it. Warlocks over the years have tried to map what makes us unique. Covertly, of course. We still don’t know exactly why we can do the things that we can. But we do know that there is a gene for it.”
“A warlock gene?” she asked.
It sounded as silly as the magic. And yet, based on her rudimentary biology lessons, she knew that gene mutations happened in humans as well as monsters. Despite the monsters not wanting the information disseminated, recent research said there was a biological component to why vampires needed to drink blood or why wraiths lived off of human essence or even what caused werewolves to shift at the full moon. It made sense, then, that warlocks would have scientists or become scientists to look into the source of their magic, too.
“Not exactly,” he said. “I’ll let Emmaline explain it when we get to The Covenant.”
“The Covenant?”
He just grinned wickedly. “You’ll see.”
Forty-five minutes later, they veered off the parkway in Queens and pulled to the entrance to a stunning two-story building. In big, bold letters, THE COVENANT was written on the front with a symbol underneath it of a circle and two opposite-facing crescent moons. She hadn’t been inside a hospital like this since before the war. Most of them had been taken over by private for-profit companies. Many people resorted to back-alley medicine, or if you were in good with a gang, they usually had a medic on the payroll, like Maura. People either went into debt or—more often—just died. And no one cared. It made her ache for a past she could hardly remember yet felt viscerally.
Graves buzzed them into a side entrance to the building. She shook snowflakes out of her hair and off the shoulders of her jacket as she looked around. The small waiting area was empty, save for a woman in a white frock with a name tag that read Harper, who Graves approached.
“Hello,” Harper said pleasantly. “Welcome to The Covenant. How can I help you?”
“We have an appointment with Dr. Mafi,” Graves said brusquely.
“Excellent. Name?”
“Under Kierse McKenna.”
“Ah, Kierse,” Harper said with a smile, turning to Kierse. “Have you ever been here before, dear?”
Kierse shook her head. Who could afford a hospital?
“I need you to fill this out.” Harper slid a clipboard across the counter. “Answer the questions on the first two pages and sign the last one.”
Kierse plopped into a chair and filled out the paperwork. So much of it she didn’t know how to answer. Like her current address. She couldn’t put Graves’s house down, but she couldn’t put Colette’s, either. She decided to leave it blank. It got worse as they asked about family history. She had no clue if her mother had had breast cancer or her father’s side had a history of high blood pressure. She eventually gave up, flipped to the back page, and scribbled her signature.
She took it back up to Harper. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, dear. It’ll just be a few minutes.”
Kierse shot her a small smile before returning to her seat. Just as she’d dropped her butt into the uncomfortable cushion, a door opened and a woman said, “Kierse.”
She was in a dark-purple frock that matched Harper’s. The color emphasized her black hair and wide-set eyes. Kierse liked her on sight.