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)
And when she finally landed the next hit, she thought she’d pass out from the effort it took to get back into that zone. Equally frustrating knowing that he barely looked affected.
“It’s threefold,” he began as she rested her already aching body. “First, to test if you have limits to your powers. Second, to see how you react to a large amount of magic. And third, to see how you work under pressure at another monster’s house before I send you into Third Floor alone.”
Her mind spun at that answer. There were more questions in there than the answers she could possibly get from this one training session. But he had given her more than she’d thought. The place they were going had monsters and magic. So likely other warlocks? She didn’t know what to think about the possibility of discovering that her powers had limits, but it seemed like a good thing to know.
So, she needed to get the information he hadn’t already provided.
“Are we stealing from them? Because this is tomorrow night,” she said.
He hefted his spear once more. “Again?”
“Fine,” she grumbled.
Before she could get started, though, Graves moved behind her. The heat of him seared through her as his body came nearly flush against hers. He put one hand on the spear and the other on her arm. Her breathing hitched as her body betrayed her. It was impossible not to react when his hands were on her and his breath was brushing against the skin of her neck. No matter how much she told her mind that it meant nothing, her reaction said otherwise.
“Use your body weight, rather than just your arms, to guide the thing forward.” Graves directed her through the movement. She was jerky at first, unaccustomed to him at her back. Then she relaxed and tried again. “Like that.”
When he released her, she exhaled softly and shook her arms out to try to get her head back in the fight.
He didn’t wait for her approval this time, just moved forward. She met the hit with her own, exactly as he’d shown her, and followed it up with a second. Graves blocked it, but something lit in his eyes. She was getting better.
Her arms felt a hundred pounds each as she pushed through the next few thrusts and parries. The tip of Graves’s spear came within inches of dragging across her cheek, but she blocked it at the last second, whirled, and got another hit in.
“Better,” he said with a nod. “Yes, we’re stealing from them tomorrow night.”
“Fuck, Graves, that’s not enough time,” she said. “An impossible heist inside Third Floor in a few weeks and I’m supposed to do another one tomorrow? That’s not possible.”
He didn’t seem concerned. “I’m acquainted with the place. You’ll have everything you need. But to get inside, you can’t go as a thief. You have to go as my . . .” He trailed off, his eyes devouring hers. “Pet.”
She stayed perfectly still as that word heated her through. “And . . . what does that entail?”
He made a come-hither motion as he raised his eyebrows, the wouldn’t you like to know painted on his face.
Her hands shook on the spear. Yes, yes she very much would like to know what being Graves’s pet would be like . . .
He made the first move, and she countered. Thrust, parry, thrust, parry. She wasn’t as fast as him and was flagging quickly. She’d had momentum when they’d started, but she didn’t know if she could keep it up. She needed that answer, though. She needed it.
Her next thrust went wide, and Graves moved at full speed. Her mind could barely comprehend it. His movements were precise and calculated. Then he tucked his shoulder and tossed her easily over his back and onto the mat. All the air released from her lungs in a gush and left her gasping.
Graves carried through on the roll, landing on his knees with his body over hers. Her lungs were burning, and she could barely catch a breath as she stared up into those gray eyes. And for a second, his gaze swept downward, to her lips, before pulling back up again. As if he, too, was thinking about the precarious nature of the position they were in . . . and what exactly they could be doing instead with him on top of her.
“You’d be at my beck and call.” Graves answered the question even though she’d failed. And her core tightened at the words. “Letting everyone assume we’re in a,” he began, his voice a caress, “physical relationship.”
She accessed all those years in Colette’s house and let the charm ooze out of every pore. “I can do that.”
For a second, the balance of power in the room shifted. As if, in that one moment, he was caught in her snare. She used his lapse in concentration to flip their positions and toss him onto his back.