The Revelation of Light and Dark (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 1)

My shoulders slump, effectively having been put in my place. I don’t know much about anything, and the confidence I had in my fighting skills just plummeted to become almost nonexistent.

Carrick steps away from me, the distance giving me room to breathe a bit better. “I’ve asked Titus to train you as he’s an instructor at the academy in Semper Terra. It’s the quickest way to get you up to speed so you can better protect yourself.”

“What if I just promise not to go rushing down sketchy alleys again?” I ask, wondering if I can just turn my back on this right now.

For the first time since I met Carrick, I see what an actual moment might be like where he’s approved of something I’ve said. “You could certainly walk away now and be relatively safe. Keep your abilities hidden like you’ve been doing, and you can return to your normal life. It’s a good choice.”

“And the alternative?” I inquire.

“You said you wanted answers,” he reminds me. “I’d like them, too, and to do that, we’re going to have to start making contacts with creatures that could be dangerous. Word will get around that you’re inquiring and the more they learn about you, the more they might feel you’re not safe to them since you can see behind the safety of their glamours.”

“But why?” I ask in confusion. “I have no ill will. I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Carrick laughs, and it’s not a pleasant sound. It’s patronizing as it seems to say, Oh, you foolish girl. “Imagine a Light Fae capturing you, putting you under their control, and using you as a hunting dog to ferret out Dark Fae. The royals could easily do that with their magic. Or imagine the Dark Fae realizing what a danger you would be to their existence. They’d send assassins after you. And daemons may not have much in the way of powers, but they could easily hold your friends hostage to get you to do their bidding. Imagine someone threatening to kill Rainey, Myles, or Adira unless you did what they wanted.”

I narrow my eyes. “How do you know about my friends?”

Smirking, Carrick waves my question off. “The minute I agreed to loan you money, I had you investigated. I know quite a bit about you, but rather than get offended, focus on the reason you need this training.”

And it all returns. If I want answers, I’m going to have to paint a target on my back.

“Oh, God,” I murmur when what he said sinks in, my gaze going slightly hazy. Then the true reality hits hard, and I focus on him. “Oh, God! I’m going to get myself killed.”

“Relax,” Titus says, stepping toward me and putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. It’s so large he could snap me in half without breaking a sweat. “I’m going to train you in the ways to hurt and kill fae and daemons. You’ll be relatively safe, especially if you stick close to Carrick.”

There’s no stopping the grimace that takes over my face. Noticing, Titus laughs. “She doesn’t like you very much, Carrick.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Carrick replies coolly, and damn it all to hell… why does that hurt so much? Why do I give a rat’s ass about his opinions?

It’s too confusing, and my head hurts from this new information overload.

“Titus will start your training tonight. It has to be done daily,” Carrick informs me. “He or I will take you out in the streets at some point to test out your skills.”

“And when will we start trying to find out why I am the way I am?” I inquire, because while I know I need the training to protect myself, I sure as hell don’t want to put off the original quest to figure me out.

“This Friday,” Carrick says as he heads toward the door leading out of the gym. He continues to speak to me without even glancing back. “There’s a private auction, and there’s someone attending who I’m hopeful can point us in the right direction. You’ll accompany me. I’ll have Zaid procure you appropriate attire.”

“I can provide my own appropriate attire,” I snap, but he’s already out the door and gone from sight.

Titus chuckles again, drawing my attention. He shakes his head in amusement. “You two are quite the pair.”

“We’re not a pair,” I grit out, focusing my residual anger his way.

“Oh, but you should be,” he replies, his laugh going deeper before tapering off to a somber tone. “But let’s put all that aside to see what we’ve got to work with.”

I look down at my clothes. Not the best for working out, but it’s passable. My usual work uniform of jeans and a t-shirt, although I have been thinking I should get some more business-casual clothes now that I’m the owner. It galls me that Carrick is the one who put that idea in my head, and I think it actually has merit.