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A flat question as if from a jilted lover. That would certainly explain all the body language. Graves really had left out all the important parts of this party.
“Allow me to introduce you to Wren,” Graves said, tugging her closer.
She swallowed at the name. They had agreed not to use her real name with the other warlocks, but she hadn’t chosen . . . this.
Montrell’s eyes widened. “Wren, really?”
Graves nodded, and understanding seemed to pass between the two. Something that Kierse didn’t comprehend.
“So, she is yours, then,” Montrell said through gritted teeth.
“She is mine,” Graves confirmed. And it sounded like sealing a bargain.
“Girlfriend?” Imani asked.
Graves laughed slightly. “And I thought you knew me.”
Montrell snorted. “That’s not his style. She’s a lover.”
“A little doll,” Imani amended. “Pretty and breakable.”
“Still acting out the same story,” Montrell said derisively.
Imani tsked. “Good for a few fucks?”
Kierse tried not to bare her teeth at the woman. That was exactly what she was supposed to appear to be to these people, but it didn’t mean that she liked to hear it on their lips.
“Maybe he’s only good for that many,” Kierse blurted out.
Graves squeezed her waist, hard. A warning.
Montrell laughed. “A little fight in her. Good. She’ll last longer that way.”
“I’m surprised you let her speak out like that at all,” Imani said. She sauntered down a step, off her dais.
She felt that heat from Imani as she drew nearer. As if she was burning from the inside out. If she got closer, would she feel it from Montrell, too? That heat she associated with the warlock holding her close at this very minute. While it was a similar feeling to Graves’s, it wasn’t as intense or all-consuming.
“She’s new,” Graves said with a shrug as if that explained it.
“What does she read like?” Imani asked with an arched eyebrow.
Read like? What did that mean?
“You know that I don’t kiss and tell, Imani,” Graves said carefully.
“Come on, darling. Remove those gloves and let me in a bit.”
Graves leveled her with a bored look. “You aren’t getting everything you need from the party and your wonderful husband?”
Imani’s eyes shifted back to Montrell and then hastily forward as if Graves had put her off-balance. “Of course I am.”
So those gloves did serve a purpose, as she’d suspected. Not that she knew what that purpose was.
“Why are you really here?” Montrell demanded from where he stood above them all. “It’s clearly not because you wanted to parade your new toy in front of us.”
“I received an invitation,” Graves said coolly.
“It’s a formality,” Montrell said. “And you know it.”
“I can’t want to see you two?”
“You don’t like people,” Imani said. “You must have known we’d ask.”
He sighed. “Well, I do have some business for you.”
Montrell barked a laugh. “And there it is. Business. Why am I not surprised?”
Graves turned his attention away from the formidable pair and to Kierse. His eyes lingered on her breasts before gliding up her body to stare into her dark eyes. She bit her lip as her heart rate jumped.
“Why don’t you go get us some punch?” he suggested.
She was immune to Imani’s magic, but Graves had warned her not to drink the punch under any circumstances. It was laced with Imani’s magic, but he couldn’t guarantee that was the only thing in her drink. She’d taken ecstasy at Five Points once, and Nate had saved her from herself. She had no interest in repeating the experience.
She pouted. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Graves narrowed his eyes. “The grown-ups have things to discuss right now.”
Fire flared in her gaze. Anger and indignation at the comment. But then coherent thought fled as he leaned down toward her as if he was going to kiss her. She’d prepared for this, but somehow she wasn’t prepared at all.
At the last second, he moved to her neck, letting his lips linger on the very spot where her heartbeat thrummed. She leaned into him. The kiss was soft. It was nothing. And yet, it was so much more.
His nose brushed her earlobe, and she shivered against him. “Punch.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Right. Punch.”
She took a step backward as if it were physically painful to walk away from him. She could hear Imani snicker as she staggered away, but Kierse couldn’t even care what she thought. It was as if her only thought was punch. She needed punch to douse the flames in her.
But as soon as she was out of the warlocks’ view, she shook her head to brush away the spell Graves’s touch seemed to ignite in her. She was immune to magic but not him, apparently.
As she crossed into the next room, she dropped her little act. Her favorite thief smile crossed her face.
“Time to get to work,” she whispered under her breath.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The mission was at hand. She needed to steal the packet and get out of here. Everything else was secondary.
