A Battle of Blood and Stone

by Sawyer Bennett

  “So maybe it was him falling in love and losing her that made him such a loner and hard to get close to rather than the work he did for the gods?” Finley surmised.

  Carrick’s smile was wry as he nodded. “And now I’m going to ask him to confront that again.”

  “And yet, you have no choice,” Finley murmured sadly.

  “No choice at all,” Carrick agreed. “You’re my priority. Helping you thwart this prophecy and keeping you alive. If I have to sacrifice my brother’s feelings, then so be it.”

  Finley leaned forward, her expression filled with pain for his dilemma. “I’m sorry.”

  She bent further, placing her mouth against his for a soft kiss.

  “Don’t be,” Carrick assured her when she lifted. But she didn’t sit back—rather, she leveraged herself with her hands to his chest to stare down at him. “I’m not going to have regrets about it.”

  “And if we’re able to get him to take us to Micah’s realm, and we’re able to get the Blood Stone, then what?”

  “We protect it,” Carrick replied with a low growl emanating in his chest. Because Carrick had been considering something since his time with Rune. If Finley had to go up against Kymaris to stop the ritual, a good way to keep her safe would be to get the Blood Stone and prevent the ritual from happening.

  “Then what?” Finley asks.

  “Then we hunt Kymaris and destroy her.” Of course, Carrick wasn’t sure how that would occur. Did the prophecy mean Finely would have to do it, regardless if the ritual occurred? In order to be prepared, he’d have to assume so. Her fate might just depend on whether she could beat Kymaris in a one-on-one battle, and while Finley had come a long way in her physical training, she knew nothing about her powers or how to use them. She was at a horrible disadvantage right now.

  Carrick needed a way to push Finley to access her powers.

  Finley didn’t respond. He could tell by her expression she was on board with that plan, but he could tell something else was worrying her.

  “Now lay your worries on me,” Carrick demanded, bringing a hand up to brush her hair back over her shoulder.

  “I have got to tap into my powers,” she huffed, pulling back and sitting on her haunches again. “It’s ridiculous I’ve been gifted angelic light or whatever the hell it is, and I can’t do much more than put a bubble over myself. Which is great for rainy days here in Seattle, but I already have an umbrella.”

  “I’ve got an idea on that,” Carrick replied, and Finley blinked in surprise.

  “Like what?” she asked with excitement.

  “Not going to share until I’m sure about it.” It was an answer she didn’t like, but she didn’t stay focused on it long as a light started gleaming in her eyes. It made him uneasy.

  “I’d like to try to contact Zora again.” Carrick opened his mouth to argue, but, to his surprise, Finley clapped her hand over it. She chastised him with a shake of her head. “If in the worst-case scenario, Kymaris gets the Blood Stone and things go down on the October new moon, then we have to start acting now to figure a plan to get Zora out. We can’t do that until I can build some trust with her and she can hopefully provide us information to help us.”

  Carrick wasn’t totally opposed to this because time was indeed running out. But he felt he needed to point out something once again. “What if she’s in league with Kymaris? What if she’s your enemy?”

  “She’s not,” Finley asserts with a confident lift of her chin.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Fine,” she huffed with a scowl marring that beautiful face. “But we’re never going to know until we at least try to make contact. I need to have a conversation with her so I can start judging her loyalties. We’re in the dark where she’s concerned, and we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

  She made an excellent point. They did need more information about Zora, and, as long as Finley didn’t give important information away, the risk was minimal.

  Unless Zora had the type of power to kill Finley, but she hadn’t the last time a connection was made.

  She had warned her off with a powerful zap of electrical current, though.

  Carrick stared up at Finley, the woman he would love throughout eternity, and struggled against his need to protect her at all costs. But he also knew Finley—from her very first incarnation as Eireann—was a woman who wouldn’t take a backseat. It would stifle her if he made her do that. It would crush her.

  “Okay,” he promised, taking a moment to enjoy her bright smile. “Let’s give it a go with Zora, but I want to be here.”

  “Of course,” she assured.

  “And,” he drawled, wanting to put one more stipulation into place. “I want to try this idea I have about tapping your powers first. I’ll need a day or so to arrange that if it can be. But I want you to have some control over the light inside you before you contact Zora.”

  Finley wasn’t as happy about that, but she reluctantly agreed.

  “Want to go back to bed?” Carrick asked. He didn’t need the sleep, but Finley did. He really had to stop keeping her up through all hours of the night. Perhaps he could slake his thirst for her with quickies during the day.

  He was lost in that thought when he realized Finley’s hands had gone to the waistband of his pajama pants. They were merely held over his narrow hips with elastic and a drawstring.

  Her fingers worked at loosening the string, and he held his breath as he watched. He didn’t try to quell the thickening of his cock just at that simple maneuver.

  When she pulled the strings, his gaze moved up to hers. Her eyes were burning, yes… definitely with passion, so he knew he was in for something special, but also with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  She brought him clarity. “I thought when we went to the Hall of Histories, the memories would change something in me. Make me feel deeper for you.”

  Finley paused, and Carrick waited to see where she was going.

  “But,” she continued. “The most it did was make me understand you better. I was able to see the depth of your feelings and commitment to me. It didn’t do anything to bolster what I felt for you.”

  Carrick didn’t like that. It sounded ominous.

  It sounded like she was pulling away.

  He never expected her to have the same depth of feelings for him that he had for her. That would just be impossible, but he thought the Hall of Histories would surely have bonded them tighter.

  “And what I realized,” Finley continued, making Carrick focus on her more clearly. For a moment, anyway, as her fingertips pushed down into the elastic just a few inches, causing his breath to catch. “Is that I didn’t need those memories to strengthen my feelings. They were interesting, I loved seeing our past lives together, and it warmed my heart to see how much you loved me in all those times.”

  Carrick’s heart started beating faster, not just because her fingers were inching inside his pants, but because her words were leading to something big.

  “What I truly understood as we walked out of the Hall of Histories was that I had already recognized you long before you showed me those memories.”

  The words made his chest constrict, then he blew out a long breath as her hand disappeared into his pajama bottoms and took his shaft in hand. It swelled more as she gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I recognized what you were to me long before,” she reiterated, giving his cock a way-too-soft stroke. “In my gut is where I held you. That instinctual place I’ve always trusted.”

  Her words were killing him. Her hand was too, and he couldn’t help but thrust against the friction of her palm. When he did, her eyes started burning hotter and she gripped him harder.

  “Every time we’re apart,” Finley murmured, giving him what he wanted by stroking his cock. “And every time you walk into a room after being apart, it’s my soul that recognizes you. It’s like ‘Hey you… there you are. I’ve missed you’.”

  “Christ
,” Carrick muttered, thrusting into her hand again. Her words were speaking directly to his dick as well as his heart. But, then again, sex with Eireann—Finley and all the others—had never been just sex. Not once.

  For him, the heart had always been deeply entwined with the feelings of pleasure.

  And here she was now, saying her soul was deeply invested.

  It was more than Carrick could have wished for.

  Finley gave a sly smile before her free hand tugged at the waistband of his pajamas. Carrick had no problem lifting his hips to accommodate. Soon, she had the entire length of him freed.

  She only needed to scoot back on his legs to give her the room necessary for her to bend over his body. And when she took him in her mouth, the incredible feel of her tongue against his burning shaft and the pressure of her sucking made him believe in all possibilities.

  He let her move on him, watching with eyes lasered on the top of her head as she bobbed, took him deep, and continued to pump him at the base while she sucked on the tip like a lollipop.

  Fuck, she was good at that, a truly modern-day woman. Oral sex in days long ago had to be nurtured, experimented with, and taught.

  Finley loved it as much as he did, and she never left him wanting.

  Except right now, he needed more.

  Her words still banging around inside his head—that her soul was committed to him by means of fate and destiny, just from some memories she looked at.

  Carrick’s hands shot out, hooked under Finley’s armpits, and dragged her off him. She protested with a low growl in her throat that was cute, but unpersuasive.

  Leaving his magic alone, he flipped their bodies with sheer determination and dexterity so she was on her back on the couch and he was over her.

  He saw the moment of shock on her face for but a fraction of a second before he caught her mouth in a blistering kiss that was meant to seduce her further but also caused a bolt of lust to sizzle down his spine.

  Aching and heavy with need, Carrick merely reached between their bodies, pulled the crotch of her panties hard to the side with some nominal ripping sounds, and drove hard into her. Finley was ready—wet and tight—and her entire being collapsed around him. Her moan went straight into his mouth, mingled with his own.

  The connection was deep, not unlike all the other times they’d been together—in this life and the past—but the pleasure he felt at being inside her body after she told him her soul recognized him even without her memories was almost more than he could bear.

  He was a demi-god, for fuck’s sake.

  He felt like a sixteen-year-old boy at this moment.

  Stilling the kiss, Carrick took a moment to rest his forehead against Finley’s. A quiet moment to get his raging lust under control and to ensure he didn’t spill before Finley achieved her pleasure. That was always paramount with him.

  “Carrick,” she murmured, slipping her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to go crazy.”

  And… that was all it took.

  His blood fired hotter than the pits of hell, and his cock seemed to swell even bigger inside of her. She felt it… gasped.

  It was all he needed. Carrick drove into her over and over again while Finley wrapped her legs around his waist and held on for the ride. Planting a hand on a cushion and another under her ass, he lifted her hips so he could drive even deeper.

  Finley moaned and cursed and pleaded with him to give her more, and he did.

  Over and over again until she screamed out his name with her release and he exploded inside of her with such overwhelming force that he went dizzy for a second.

  “Oh my God,” Finley moaned, still rocking her hips against his while he stroked shallowly inside of her. “What the hell was that?”

  Yeah… that was different.

  The most amazing experience with his Eireann he’d ever had.

  Dropping her body down to the couch, he brought his weight down on her, keeping himself planted deep. Pressing his lips to hers, he whispered into her mouth. “That was two souls dancing.”

  Finley giggled. “You’re such a romantic.”

  Carrick’s voice turned rough. “I’m a realist, and you know it. But that’s exactly what it was.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Finley

  After pulling my hair into a high ponytail—which basically makes me look like I have a big horse’s tail attached to the back of my head because of how much hair I have—I give myself a once over in the mirror.

  Today’s a big day.

  Carrick is off doing something to help me tap into my light powers.

  Lucien finally responded. He was busy doing something important in Marrakesh, but he’ll be here tonight. He hadn’t elaborated, and Carrick hadn’t asked because it didn’t matter. As long as he gets here so we could discuss the Blood Stone with him.

  But, more importantly, today is a big day because I’m in charge of bringing Boral on board as a full-fledged member of the prophecy fight squad.

  I shouldn’t have spent so much time worrying over what to wear to this meeting. My clothes aren’t going to make an impression on Boral one way or the other, yet I don’t want to come across as weak.

  Which meant nothing too feminine.

  I didn’t want to seem immature—which meant no skinny jeans and Chucks.

  Ultimately, I just went with one of my workout ensembles of black leggings, a long-sleeved gray t-shirt, and a zip hoodie over it. It’s my most comfortable clothing, but it’s also what I wear the most now because if I’m not working out in preparation for a fight, I’m waiting for an actual battle.

  It’s simply who I am at my core.

  Well, that’s not quite true. That’s my prophecy self at my core, but the woman Finley Porter has become is something distinctly different.

  In the wee hours of this morning, I was most comfortable in a t-shirt, straddling Carrick’s legs as we talked, and while comfort isn’t the exact word I’d use to describe how it became after, I was most definitely right at home flat on my back with Carrick inside of me.

  Carrick has become my home, and I don’t question the beauty of it anymore. I merely accept and enjoy the time we have together.

  I wink at myself in the mirror, pointing a finger with a smarmy grin. “You got this, Finley. Let’s go bring Boral onto the team.”

  I’m confident as I walk into the kitchen where Boral, Zaid, and Maddox wait for me. While Carrick left me in charge of this—having ultimate trust in me to do what’s right for our cause—he didn’t trust Boral and so Maddox is here as my guardian.

  Boral may not be able to reveal any secrets he learns, but he’s still evil and dangerous, and Carrick would never let me be alone with him.

  All three turn their heads my way when I walk into the kitchen. It’s become a meeting place, usually where we all take our meals together rather than the formal dining room table.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Zaid asks, and I take a moment to revel in the change in his tone with me. Those early days when he could barely stand to be in the same room to now as a friend.

  “Actually, no,” I say, moving through the kitchen toward the living area. I issue a simple command. “Follow me, Boral.”

  I hear stools scraping on the tile floor, then the fall of heavy steps as all three follow behind. I move through the living area, past the grand piano, and into Carrick’s office. If Maddox and Zaid are worried about me letting Boral this far into Carrick’s home, they say nothing.

  But then again, I doubt they would. They know this is my show, and my decision on what to reveal.

  “Nice,” Boral murmurs as he surveys the decor and art pieces on the illuminated built-ins.

  I ignore him and move to the end of the built-ins, where I reach under the decorative molding to depress the button that reveals the hidden passageway.

  I turn toward Boral, who looks astonished as the door slides open, and say with a sly grin. “First secret.”


  “I’m intrigued,” he admits and then follows me down the spiral staircase into the library, Maddox and Zaid not about to be left behind.

  Boral whistles low when he steps off the last step, taking in the space’s enormity, which encompasses the entire floor below Carrick’s condo. His gaze shrewdly takes in the rows upon rows of bookshelves, housing thousands of books. Boral is an immortal Dark Fae. He’s smart enough to know there are some valuable items housed here.

  “Let’s sit,” I suggest, sweeping my arm toward the large conference table. It’s covered with books and pads of paper filled with notes, mostly by our two best researchers—Rainey and Myles. They’re both at work today, or else they’d be here. Myles still does his regular old IT job, but Rainey is now in Carrick’s employ, overseeing One Bean’s rebuilding, and, frankly, I’ve never seen her happier.

  I know when it’s all said and done, I’m either going to die in the prophecy, or I’m going to die by Rune’s curse, but it is incredibly settling to me to know that Rainey—and by association, Myles—will stay in Carrick’s life by virtue of working with him. They’ll need each other.

  I take a breath. I know what I’m going to do because I’d been thinking about it almost non-stop since Carrick left to do whatever he’s doing. He’s leaving it completely up to me to tell Boral what I feel is necessary. It’s my choice if I reveal Zora’s existence or my light powers.

  What I wouldn’t have given to have Carrick to bounce my thoughts off, but I also understand by him leaving, he’s forcing me to deal with it. Again, it goes back to the trust he has in me, so I need to have that same trust in myself.

  Boral is the first to sit, and I intentionally take the seat opposite him rather than the head chair at the end of the table. I don’t want to infer I’m in charge but rather that this is a team. Plus, I want to be able to look him in the eye. Maddox sits next to Boral, Zaid next to me.

  Leaning forward, I push some books away and clasp my hands before settling them on the tabletop. Boral is cocked back casually in his chair.

  “There’s a prophecy of doom enacted by the gods,” I begin, and Boral’s eyebrows pop up. “You know some of it. You know Kymaris is here with the intent to do a ritual to bring the veil down that separates the Underworld from the Earth Realm. And you know she’s looking for something called the Blood Stone.”