Zora actually made a valid point. If the police went in there, there was a chance they’d be killed because they had no clue they were dealing with supernatural creatures. Those protecting a sacrifice would be willing to protect said sacrifice at any cost.
She also argued, and it was actually the point that swayed Zaid, that Blain couldn’t afford to be rescued and put back into the human world after he’d probably seen some horrible things. If Kymaris or any of the daemons and fae dropped their veils around him, and he started talking about it to police and medical personnel, he’d be thought a raving lunatic and probably locked up in a mental hospital.
No, we needed Blain under our protection so we could explain what was going on and come up with some sort of reasonable story before he was reintroduced back into society.
Next was a brief argument between Zaid and me, and that was whether we should call Carrick and Maddox back from their mission.
I adamantly shot that down. For all we knew, they could be in the middle of a battle. They could be on the verge of ending this once and for all. We had to let them maintain that focus.
Besides… Echo said there was only one or two daemons there. Surely between Zaid, Boral, and me, we could easily take them.
It was decided—mainly by me—that we were going for it. Zora insisted on coming, and I was okay with that only because she promised to stay in the car and I figured in the worst-case scenario, she could sprout wings and fly to safety if necessary. Mostly though, I needed someone who could take care of Blain once we pulled him out in case the rest of us were still battling.
But I was confident we had far more force and power than those protecting Blain, and this should be an easy mission.
While I had my whip as my main weapon coiled at my hip, I had throwing knives holstered around each thigh. Boral has superhuman strength as a Dark Fae, but no magical abilities. He’s evolved from his ancient days of maiming with weapons known for brutality such as axes and swords. He’s going in with a gun. When he handed one to Zaid, he accepted without comment.
Echo had provided us with some good information on the best way to take Blain’s jailers down. While the front of the gallery is boarded up, the back alley loading dock is where the action takes place. Echo spends some time there, and while I did not want the details, I figured enough to know she might be trading sex with the daemons for drugs. She said they often take their breaks outside on the covered dock, smoking cigarettes. She hangs, talks, smokes a little weed, and does who knows what else, but she was confident in her information. We pressed her time and again on how many are usually there, and she held true to her story—usually only one or two. Apparently, Blain is not a flight risk that they’re worried about.
Just before we leave, Zaid prevails upon me one more time to wait for Carrick to return. He goes low and actually makes me stop to re-evaluate when he says, “You do realize, Finley, that if you get hurt, Carrick will kill me for letting you go.”
And that’s not being dramatic.
Carrick would probably kill him because he left him as my primary protector. No matter the circumstance and regardless of how close their friendship is, he’d hold Zaid accountable.
Yeah… that makes me pause.
I glance over at Boral, who is waiting at the elevator with Zora. She has no clue the bitter history between the father and son, and I haven’t told her as it’s too personal a story to tell without Zaid’s permission.
My gaze slides back to Zaid, and there’s just no way I can put him in a bad situation with Carrick. Their friendship is so important, especially since Carrick saved Zaid from a tortured existence. I’m not about to cause any type of rift between them.
“Then you leave me no choice but to do this,” I reply to Zaid. With my palm thrust outward, I call forth a binding magic, and streams of light fly toward him. They act as ropes, wrapping around him from shoulder to mid-waist and locking his arms at his side.
Zaid’s eyes flare wide at my audacity. A red film covers his pupils, which tells me he’s pissed.
“You get these off me right now, Finley Porter,” he snarls.
“Try to break out yourself,” I reply, not to taunt him but because I need to know that he’ll remain secure and unable to stop me. This will save him from Carrick’s wrath.
Zaid struggles and curses for several seconds before shooting a glare at his father. “Make her take them off me.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Boral have a moral struggle. He wants nothing more than his son to forgive him and to have a relationship again. If he helps Zaid, that will definitely be something that paves the way. If he says no, he’ll lose any ground he’s gained.
I give a warning to Boral to take the decision away from him. “If you make a move, I’ll wrap you up with magic, too, and go by myself.”
Boral doesn’t move an inch, and I move several feet until I’m face to face with Zaid. He growls low in his chest with reproach. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I have to do this, and I also know Carrick will be pissed at you. I’m taking your choice away.”
“Let me go with you, Finley. For extra protection.”
My smile is sad as I shake my head. “I’d rather keep you safe, my friend. Carrick will only have me to blame.”
This results not in a kumbaya moment with Zaid, but with more curses leveled right at me. I take a few steps back as I nod toward the living area. “I left you the use of your legs. I suggest sitting down and getting comfortable. We shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
Zaid is yelling curses at me as I get into the elevator with Boral and Zora. When the doors close, Boral says, “He won’t forgive you.”
“Of course he will,” I reply confidently. “Especially once we have Blain firmly in hand and the daemons dispatched.”
We’re silent as we move through the lobby and get into the G550 the valet had brought around, with Boral driving, me in the front passenger seat, and Zora in the back. We brought along a first aid kit in my backpack since there’s no telling what type of shape Blain is in.
No one says a word as we drive the handful of blocks down to First Avenue where Fallon’s gallery is located. I’ve definitely got some feels going on as I have not been back here since the last time I saw Fallon right inside the gallery when she was already inhabited by Kymaris. I went to see her, hoping there was something of my sister left inside that could be reached. I’ve since learned she was dead the minute Kymaris entered her during the changeling ritual.
Because Kymaris took Fallon’s identity, subsequently went to Switzerland where her fiancé, Blain, went missing and hasn’t been seen since, things have been in a bit of legal limbo. She’s not been missing long enough to be declared dead. But the police don’t think “Fallon” is dead. They think she killed Blain and is in hiding.
Carrick’s team of high-priced lawyers moved in and were able to petition the court to put her gallery into a conservatorship under my name to manage until she was located or declared dead. All the art on consignment was returned to the creators. The rest that Fallon had purchased for resale was moved out to a secure storage location and the space is empty of everything. Carrick has insisted on keeping up with the rent payments, although I haven’t discussed with him why he would do such a thing.
Probably because I know.
He doesn’t want to get rid of the last connection I had with Fallon, because although she started out a fae changeling, she became human and was in every way my sister for twenty-eight years. It still hurts deeply that she’s gone.
For the last two months, we’ve not done anything else with the space and neither of us has been there to visit. We had assumed it was locked up tight and everything was gathering dust. It never occurred to us that daemons were getting in through the loading dock and holding a prisoner there. It would be fairly easy to break into because, although we did change the locks, we didn’t bother with the security system since the space was completely empty.
So why would
daemons use this place?
Was it at Kymaris’ direction, which makes absolutely no sense? She had abandoned Fallon’s identity, and she wouldn’t want to come near the gallery since the police were looking for her.
Or was it that Kymaris gave them latitude on where to keep him and they chose this place because this is where she first gathered her minions?
Or the thought always niggling in the back of my head… is this a setup? Is Echo luring me here for some reason?
That was Zaid’s biggest argument why I shouldn’t go, but I was betting Echo was far too fearful of Carrick’s retribution to do something like that. My instinct is her information is legit, and she knows we’re a good source of money to help fuel her addictions.
I grimace internally as we turn down the back alley behind First Avenue. I remember the day I first met Echo and was horrified Maddox paid her money for information, knowing damn well she’d buy drugs with it.
It’s a stark contrast to my feelings on it now.
Whatever it takes to defeat Kymaris.
It’s the only motto that counts, and there’s going to be some collateral damage along the way.
Boral stops the Mercedes in the back alley, three stores down from the gallery. It’s broad daylight so we’re not exactly hiding, but we are staying back a bit to watch. We had told Echo to stay away, for her safety and to not complicate things. She was more than happy to have nothing to do with this.
“What do we do now?” Zora asks from the backseat.
“I say let’s just walk on in,” Boral replies, not to Zora but to me. “I’m impossible to kill unless we’re met at the door with an iron spike to my heart or brain, and you can stay behind me while we assess.”
Locks weren’t going to be a problem. I could unlock anything with magic. If for some reason I couldn’t, Boral was strong enough to bust through, but that would be less subtle.
“I agree,” I reply as I watch the empty dock, wondering how many were inside with Blain.
One daemon?
Two daemons?
A hundred? If Echo was lying to us…
If she was, I’m going to kill her if I survive.
“What if there are a hundred daemons in there?” I ask, a contingency we really hadn’t discussed. “Or even ten?”
“Hopefully, you’re close enough to touch me and you bend distance to get us back here to the G550. If they’re daemons, they can’t follow.”
“If they’re Dark Fae…”
I trail off because that’s actually the worst-case scenario.
“You trying to talk yourself out of this?” Boral asks.
“Nope,” I reply with surety. “Just covering all bases.”
“Because,” Boral drawls, looking away from me back to the dock. “There is nothing wrong with backing out and waiting for Carrick to return.”
My eyes drift to the dock as well. No, there’s nothing wrong with waiting.
But I can’t.
I might not have ever liked Blain, but I know Fallon loved him. And she would not want him to suffer one minute longer. I have the ability to stop that suffering, so I’m really doing this for Fallon and her memory.
I reach for the door handle, determination in my voice. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 19
Carrick
Carrick had been to Hungary hundreds of times before, and he had always appreciated its beauty.
He saw none of it now.
Lake Balaton was the largest lake in central Europe, located in the western part of Hungary. The north side of the lake was filled with mountains and grape fields while the opposite shores were dotted with resort towns.
Kymaris was in the village of Paloznak on the north side of the lake at the southern base of Bakony mountain. The population was just over four hundred residents, but Carrick knew that one—the owner of the villa—had become recently deceased and Kymaris had assumed his identity in public.
He doubted she went into public, though. The villa was large, part of a wine estate. It was done in yellow stucco and white trim. The surrounding gardens were immaculately kept with hills of grapevines all around. It was a fairy-tale setting, and it was hard to believe the queen of the Underworld, who planned to take over the Earth, was holed up inside.
Carrick and Maddox had been on a hill about two hundred yards away, watching the villa for the last hour. It was quiet with no apparent activity on the outside. With their powers, they could tell there were indeed Dark Fae inside, but not how many or if Kymaris was among them.
“Should we just walk up and ring the doorbell?” Maddox asked.
Carrick didn’t need to look at his brother to know he’d have a lopsided grin on his face. Normally, he didn’t mind his brother’s brand of humor, but he wasn’t in the mood and for more than one reason.
Keeping his eyes pinned on the villa, he asked dryly, “I don’t know… did you just walk up to Zora’s room and ring her doorbell to get in?”
Maddox snorted, which was not the contrition Carrick was seeking for his brother sleeping with Finley’s sister. Yes, Finley had told him all about it last night before they’d gone to bed. She didn’t seem perturbed about it, but Carrick was irked on her behalf.
“As I told Finley,” Maddox drawled, “it was mutual.”
“It was casual,” Carrick corrected.
“It was both,” Maddox replied as he turned his head to look at his brother. “We both got exactly what we wanted.”
For a moment, Carrick moved his attention from the villa to his brother. “She’s vulnerable.”
“Maybe,” Maddox concurred. “But she’s also hardened, and she doesn’t view sex the way other humans do. Nothing about our experience is going to hurt her.”
Finley had said almost the same thing. He knew Zora had a physical relationship with Amell. He also knew she didn’t understand feelings of love, care, and commitment. Not her fault at all, but if she stayed in this realm long enough, she’d come to learn about it.
And when that time came, Maddox would probably be long in the wind, so it was all moot.
Carrick grunted his understanding and swung his head back to his target, indicating the conversation was over.
They watched for another half an hour, then agreed they wanted to make their move while there was still good daylight that would filter into the windows that all seemed bare of coverings. If they waited until dark, they were at the mercy of whatever type of lighting—or lack thereof—that the inhabitants chose.
They had three goals.
Kill the Dark Fae that would be used in the ritual.
Kill Kymaris.
Take the Blood Stone.
They really didn’t need to accomplish all three. Ideally, they’d consider it a full victory if they could ensure Kymaris’ demise. It would be a bonus if they could kill her Dark Fae and get their hands on the Blood Stone.
The brothers didn’t approach the villa on foot. They didn’t want to be seen coming, so they merely bent distance from their spot on the hill to the front covered portico and rang the doorbell.
It was answered by a hulking daemon with a wide black aura around his frame. The last time Carrick had visited Kymaris at her home in Seattle, the daemon who answered the door had not recognized him.
This one did, and he opened his mouth to sound the alarm. Maddox flashed forward with a speed that couldn’t be observed by the human eye and jammed an iron dagger through the daemon’s ear and into its brain. It slumped immediately in death before turning to ash and disappearing.
Carrick took in the large foyer with glossy wood floors and a sweeping staircase before them. The architecture looked to be mid-to-late nineteenth century and was filled with period pieces of furniture and art. He doubted it was to Kymaris’ taste at all, but he knew this was nothing more than a temporary abode until the ritual.
Listening carefully, Carrick didn’t hear anything. No conversations, no creaking of floorboards. No one coming out with curiosity to see who ran
g the doorbell.
It didn’t appear to the normal senses that anyone was here at all, until… Kymaris was there.
Standing at the top of the staircase balcony, hands resting lightly on the railing and staring down haughtily at the demi-god brothers. She was dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a long-sleeved tunic. Her feet were bare, and Carrick found her casual state to indicate not so much that she was caught by surprise but rather a confidence that she could confront demi-gods without good shoes on her feet.
“You go look for the Dark Fae,” Carrick told his brother softly. “I’ll handle her.”
Kymaris tipped her head back and laughed. “Don’t bother looking for my brethren. They’re not here.”
Neither brother was about to believe her, nor would they leave without checking every nook and cranny of this villa for her original Fallen and the Blood Stone.
Maddox didn’t wait, taking off to the left of the staircase and disappearing into the back of the house. Carrick didn’t spare him a glance as he left, keeping his head tipped back and eyes pinned on Kymaris.
Her grin was more of a leer when she said, “I’m not about to let you take my ritual ingredients, so the minute you stepped over my threshold, I sent them away to a safe house.”
“So it’s just you and me?” Carrick taunted. “Big words to a demi-god from a mere fae.”
Her smile turned acid. “I’m the queen of the Underworld. You should be quaking before me.”
Her ego was astounding and also amusing. Even the queen of the Underworld, who had garnered powerful magic through a changeling ceremony, couldn’t think she’d prevail against an inherently immortal creature such as himself, forget about the fact Maddox was here as well.
But that was when Carrick saw the Blood Stone hanging from a necklace around her neck with the gem sitting about mid-chest level.
“You removed it from the chalice,” Carrick observed in a casual tone, which belied the amazement he was feeling that she accomplished that feat when he had not been able to.
“Piece of cake,” she replied with a snap of her fingers.
The Rise of Fortune and Fury Page 19
