And, of course, Titus and Caiden were gathering the annihilators to join us. Maybe we’d have a large enough force to disrupt the ritual and keep the veil intact.
“What should I do?” I ask.
“You need to handle Blain,” he reminds me, and I jolt because I had literally forgotten about him. “He’s probably pretty messed up. No telling what was done.”
“Can’t I do some witchy magic on his memory or something?” I ask.
Carrick actually looks alarmed I’d suggest such a thing, but then I grin. “Just kidding… I know better than to mess with stuff like that.”
I get a swift kiss born of amusement. When he pulls back, he’s serious once again. “Even I wouldn’t do anything to mess with his memory and I have the ability to do it. The human psyche is fragile. I think he needs to be told the truth of what is going on, and I think he needs to stay in hiding until this is all over with. I suggest somewhere far away from here and with some professional psychological help.”
“I take it you know someone who owes you a favor,” I reply dryly.
“Indeed I do,” he replies. “I’ll get it set up for you to handle while I’m gone to Faere.”
I nod, my mind already turning to what I’m going to say to Blain to explain all this craziness. My gaze starts to drift off past his shoulder.
Carrick’s hand is at my jaw, forcing me to turn back. “Let whatever is in your head go.”
I blink in confusion, but then it all becomes clear as he kisses me.
Not a hard fast one born of amusement, but a soul-rending one born of love, fidelity, and loyalty.
Carrick’s hand moves to the back of my head, hard in my hair, and he deepens the kiss. Every inch of my body responds, from my skin tingling to my heart racing, to my toes curling, and to an ache of longing squarely between my legs. As I sit on his lap, I feel him responding, too.
When Carrick kisses me, there is nothing that can take my attention away from him. The world could be burning down around us, and I wouldn’t take notice.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and I kiss him back. Mine is filled with equal love and passion but tinged with desperation. Every moment with him is all too fleeting.
Knowing we’ll find each other again in a later life isn’t good enough for me right now because no matter how much time I’m graced with Carrick, it will never be enough.
CHAPTER 22
Finley
I open the door to Blain’s room and enter quietly. My softness of foot isn’t necessary as he’s in a deep sleep courtesy of some magic mojo by Maddox. He had actually been drugged by the daemons, presumably to make it easier to control him, but Maddox was able to pull it out of his system. The sleep he is under now isn’t deep in a narcotic-induced sort of way, but rather more of an unconscious magical limbo.
At least that’s the way Maddox described it.
Carrick follows me in, and I’m not overly happy about it. I had wanted to be the only one in the room when Blain awoke to make it easier for him to process, but Carrick was afraid he could have a psychotic reaction and become violent.
Blain is in the middle of the bed, still in the clothes we found him in, stained with dirt and food. He smells awful, and I doubt he’s had a shower since he was kidnapped. I settle my butt on the edge and angle toward him.
Carrick takes a post at the foot, waiting for my signal. I give him a short nod and he leans forward, waving his hand over Blain. I can feel the magic ripple over the bed, and Blain opens his eyes. He’s not groggy or sleepy, but instantly alert thanks to being free of drugs and whatever magic Maddox and Carrick used to keep him unconscious until now.
His head rolls on the pillow, and his eyes flare as he recognizes me. His voice is heavy with fear. “Finley?”
I reach out to take his hand, and he jerks slightly from the contact. I immediately start reassurances. “You’ve been rescued, and you are absolutely safe. No one can hurt you here.”
“Where is here?” he asks, pushing himself up slightly to lean against the headboard.
“You’re in my condo,” Carrick says in an oddly gentle voice I’ve never heard him use with anyone but me.
Blain’s head whips his way, eyes now bugging. “Mr. Byrne?”
“Carrick,” he insists.
“Blain,” I say to get his attention. “Carrick will keep you safe. But we need to know everything that’s happened to you, and I’m sure you might have some questions that we can perhaps answer.”
“I don’t have any questions,” Blain says bitterly. “I know everything.”
Carrick and I exchange a quick glance before I give my attention back to Blain. “Tell me everything that happened to you.”
Blain surprisingly knows more than I would have thought. Apparently in Switzerland, Kymaris—who had been wearing Fallon’s likeness—revealed her true appearance. She explained who she was and why she was on Earth. She didn’t hold back the truth of what happened to Fallon. If him being human might have caused him to have some disbelief, that was dispelled when she removed her glamour so he could see her true likeness.
Kymaris then revealed to him that he was going to be a human sacrifice. From that moment forward, he’d been a prisoner.
“I was drugged a lot,” Blain says, his eyes sliding off to the side to stare at the floor, as if that embarrassed him. “I’m not even sure how I got from Switzerland back to the States but she put some fae named Pyke in charge of it.”
Of course Pyke would be involved. I remember back to that time we talked on the phone while Kymaris/Fallon was in Switzerland, and I heard someone male with her after Blain went “missing”. Clearly, that was Pyke.
I know they didn’t move him back to Seattle by bending distance because that would have killed him. I’m sure Pyke has access to money and a private jet that got him back.
“And you’ve been at the gallery the entire time?” I ask.
Blain nods, gaze coming back to me. “Usually only one or two daemons guarded me, but they had a poker game going on last night. They drugged me so they didn’t have to keep watch.”
“So you know what daemons are?” I ask curiously.
Blain gives a mirthless laugh. “Like I said, I know everything. They felt no need to hide anything from me, seeing as how I was going to be a sacrifice.”
That causes a stab of pity to hit me that they so callously let him know his demise was unavoidable. “Do you know about the ritual?”
Blain nods. “It will tear the wall down between Hell and Earth. Let all the evil creatures out.”
“Do you know when?”
“October 8th,” he replies, his voice catching slightly. “My guards made sure to keep me apprised of the countdown to my death.”
I squeeze his hand. “That’s not going to happen now. Do you know where they’re going to have the ritual?”
When Blain nods, I feel a zing of pure adrenaline shoot through me. This has been a major stumbling block for us. For all our plans on how we can stop her, none of that mattered if we didn’t know where the ritual would take place.
“They talked freely in front of me… the daemons that watched over me. They’re part of the plans… muscle so to speak. She has a lot of it as she expects some opposition, although I can’t imagine who would take her on.”
Another glance to Carrick, then back to Blain. “Where is the ritual supposed to take place?”
“Over at Lake Wenatchee State Park,” he replies. “There’s a secluded area between Lake Wenatchee and Fish Lake, just west of the airport. It’s deep in the woods and there’s supposedly a clearing.”
“So it’s going to be outside,” I murmur, turning toward Carrick. “For some reason, I had envisioned it would be inside.”
“Me too,” he agrees. “It will be easier to fight outdoors, especially if the area is wooded.”
“Wait a minute,” Blain says, looking back and forth between me and Carrick. “Why am I here in Carrick’s condo? And why are you with him? And how
do you know about all this stuff?”
I take a deep breath and give him a reassuring smile. “It’s an incredibly long story. Are you hungry?”
Blain nods.
“How about we bring you something to eat and I’ll tell you all about what’s been happening? After that, you can shower and we’ll get you some clean clothes.”
He merely nods again, and I turn back to Carrick. “Would you mind having Zaid put something together?
“Of course not,” he says, inclining his head. He doesn’t look back at Blain, just quietly leaves the room.
When the door closes, I release Blain’s hand and rise from the bed. I grab one of the chairs in the corner and drag it over. Taking a seat, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Let’s start at the party you threw for Fallon’s twenty-eighth birthday.”
“That’s when she changed,” he murmurs knowingly.
“Yes, that’s when she changed,” I agree. “Let me tell you how and why.”
* * *
I back out of the bedroom, pulling the door closed quietly behind me. Blain is sleeping thanks to a light sedative a doctor “friend” of Carrick’s gave to him.
It had taken nearly an hour to tell Blain everything. In that time frame, I not only had to deal with his surprise and anger, but also his grief as well. To us, Fallon was a sister and a fiancée—someone who was loved and lost.
While we talked, Blain ate like a starved man, and there’s no doubt he wasn’t fed well during captivity. He took a shower and looked incredibly frail in the t-shirt and sweatpants of Carrick’s I gave him to wear. He had to roll the elastic band a few times to get them to stay up. Then he let the doctor Carrick called examine him and accepted the offered sedative to get some rest before he left later tonight.
We decided that Blain needed to be moved somewhere secure where he could recuperate and stay safe until this was all over. This decision wasn’t arrived at easily, as Blain wanted to just go home to his parents. He knew they thought he was dead, and he wanted to rectify that assumption as quickly as possible.
But mostly, he just wanted to go somewhere that comforted him.
Thankfully, I talked him out of that. I explained that once he resurfaced, the police were going to ramp up an investigation which would throw heat my way because I’m Fallon’s sister. I didn’t have time to deal with that, being just over a week until the new moon.
What resonated the most was a simple question. “What are you going to tell them, Blain? Where are you going to say you’ve been for the past few months? Are you going to tell them about fae and daemons and rituals to open a door between Hell and Earth? Because you’re going to end up in a psych unit if you do. And trust me… you know I have personal experience with that.”
That’s what really got him to agree to go somewhere safe that Carrick could arrange. In turn, Carrick assured him that he’d help him arrange a plausible reintroduction back into his life. In this instance, Carrick wouldn’t use his demi-god powers, but I assume his incredible wealth and influence where necessary.
On the flip side, I told Blain, “If Kymaris succeeds and the veil comes down, there’s no reason to hide what happened to you. Your parents and everyone else on Earth will know what you went through is the truth.”
I leave Blain’s room and head into the kitchen, where I find Zaid making dinner.
“Where’s Carrick?” I ask.
“In his office,” he replies as he works at dicing some chicken breasts. “Making arrangements for Blain.”
I nod silently, determined not to ask, but ultimately do. “And Zora?”
“I haven’t seen her or Maddox in a while,” he replies dryly, and I don’t need to know more. They’re probably in one of their bedrooms having casual, meaningless, no-strings sex.
“And your father?” I inquire.
“He left to go check out the gallery, see if anything else of value was in there after you rescued Blain. But he’ll be back. I invited him to dinner.”
My mouth drops open in astonishment. Zaid sees said astonishment and purses his lips before admonishing. “Don’t make a big deal of this, okay?”
I shake my head, make a cross over my heart. “No big deal.”
Wow. Zaid invited his dad to dinner. It’s something I thought I’d never see, and I wonder about the change of heart. Surely, it’s not one particular thing, but most likely a series of watching his father be loyal to our team. On more than one occasion, Boral has even protected me.
That’s kind of a big deal since he’s a Ravager and his nature is to cut my throat instead.
Zaid places the diced chicken in a bowl, then starts throwing in various seasonings. I don’t pay close attention since whatever he’s making will be fantastic, as always. I’ve often wondered why Zaid doesn’t open a restaurant or something, because he’s got mad chef skills.
Regardless, it does warm me to know that he’s open to perhaps allowing Boral into his life a bit. Maybe there’s an opportunity to mend fences. It could take decades… maybe even centuries, but Zaid inviting his dad to dinner is a cracking open of the door.
While I promised Zaid I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it—and I won’t—it does make me wonder about something I’ve always wanted to ask him about.
Zaid and I have come a long way in our relationship. There is a level of trust and care, although I might have dinged it up a bit when I tied him up today, but I know he’s still my friend and I’m his.
This is something I do feel comfortable in asking. “Have you ever thought about reaching out to your mom? Her name is Mala, right?”
Zaid knows Carrick told me all about his past, and Zaid and I even talked about it in general several times, especially during our time together when Carrick had been missing because of Rune.
But we never talked about his mother. When Zaid grew up to follow in Boral’s evil footsteps, she managed to escape and has supposedly been living in Faere ever since.
Zaid stiffens slightly at my question. Without looking up from the chicken, he shakes his head. “No. I’ve not seen her since she left for Faere.”
“Why not go there and seek her out?” I inquire.
“Daemons aren’t welcome in Faere,” he replies flatly.
“You know Carrick would get safe passage for you there,” I counter. “At the very least, he could go get your mother and bring her to you.”
“Not a good idea,” Zaid mutters, picking up the seasoned chicken and moving to the back counter so I now have his back. It’s a clear indication he doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Why isn’t it a good idea?” I press. “I bet she’d love to reconnect with you.”
Zaid turns slowly around to face me, his expression filled with pain. “She’s ashamed of me, Finley. She witnessed me do acts of brutality that were so horrific she grew to hate me the way she hated my father. She’d never forgive the things I’ve done, and there’s no reason for me to reach out to her.”
“And yet, you’re in the process of opening yourself up to your father.” I lean forward on the counter. “There is hope for everyone, Zaid. And I think you’ve become someone your mother would be incredibly proud of.”
“Why?” Zaid says on a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve done a few good deeds? Because my aura’s lightened up a bit? I made a conscious choice to abandon those qualities I got from my mother, and I chose to follow in my father’s evil footsteps. If I ever die, Finley, my soul is destined for the Underworld.”
I shake my head, glaring at him fiercely. “You’re wrong. You’ve redeemed yourself.”
“Think what you want,” he says dismissively, then turns his back on me.
“And you didn’t abandon the qualities your mother gave you,” I remind him quietly. He doesn’t respond or even act like he heard me, but I know he’s listening. “You are an empath just like her. You have empathy, which never went away. And while you may have done horrible things, it was your empathy that ultimately proved to be the biggest pa
rt of you. Otherwise, you would have never staked yourself to a tree. That actually makes you more like your mother than your father. If you can find it in your heart to consider a relationship with Boral, then I know damn well your empath Light Fae mother will do the same.”
I expect him to ignore me.
Or maybe even yell at me to leave him alone.
Instead, he sighs. “You might be right.”
I wait for more, but nothing comes. He picks up a towel, covers the bowl of chicken, and walks out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
A smile comes to my face. I actually consider that a victory… the fact that Zaid is actually thinking about what I said about his mother is enough to make my meddlesome self happy. If we survive this battle against Kymaris, I am going to keep pressing him to see his mother. One day, I know he’ll thank me for it.
CHAPTER 23
Carrick
“You know this is a waste of time,” Deandra told Carrick as they materialized inside the castle walls. As a guest of the princess, Carrick didn’t need to knock on the massive front doors and be allowed entrance by Rebsha.
“Maybe so,” Carrick rumbled as they walked the halls to locate Nimeyah. “But I have to try.”
Deandra didn’t respond, which prompted Carrick to add, “I am very grateful you are going to help us.”
It was a careless shrug he got in response. “I have a vested interest now in protecting my new home, but I’m also in this to make Pyke pay for his treachery.”
“You two were never very close,” Carrick mused out loud.
“Pyke always did what Pyke wanted to do and lived much of his time away from Faere. We had nothing in common.”
Carrick didn’t comment. Truth be told, he didn’t care what their relationship was. He had, at best, a passing enjoyment of the royal siblings over the millennia, but their inner workings as a family didn’t intrigue him in the slightest.
He cared about their familial workings about as much as he cared about their court politics.
The Rise of Fortune and Fury Page 23
