A Discovery of Secrets and Fate (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 2)

Satisfied I don’t, I step out of my office and lock it behind me. Not because there’s anything to steal in there, but I do have sensitive employment records as well as business sales data, which is no one’s business. My filing cabinet, though, is light one manila folder as I grabbed Adira’s employment file to take home—rather Carrick’s condo—with me tonight to call her parents.

By the time I’m walking through One Bean, calling out farewells to the employees who just came onto the second shift about an hour ago, Zaid is out front waiting as promised. I’m also happy I am right on time.

I open the front passenger door and slide in, pushing my backpack onto the floorboard. “Hello,” I chirp.

“You should sit in the back,” he grouses.

“Are you a chauffeur?” I ask with a grin, which I know will offend him.

“You know I’m not,” he snaps, then pulls into traffic.

As always happens when I’m in Zaid’s presence, I ponder all the mysteries that make him up. Next to wanting to know more about what happened to my sister and more details on Carrick, Zaid is what I’m probably more curious about than anything. He’s a daemon, born of a light and dark fae, but his aura is a misty gray, which means he is a mix of both.

Because I have a few minutes as he navigates rush hour the four blocks east and another three north to reach the condo, I decide to poke.

“You’ve been working for Carrick a long time, haven’t you?” I ask, laying the initial foundation that I’m being nosy.

Zaid grunts his affirmation.

“How long?”

“Long,” he replies, and I grit my teeth.

“What exactly do you do for him?” I know for certain he’s not a butler or a chauffeur, although he drives Carrick lots of places and always is around the condo cooking, cleaning, making tea, and otherwise carrying out his orders.

“I do anything Carrick wants,” Zaid replies crisply as we come to a stoplight. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. I note beneath his glamour, his fingers are slightly longer than a humans, thinner in between the joints and the knuckles are a bit more pronounced. With his gaunt face, it makes him look almost skeletal.

Might as well get personal. “Why is your aura gray?”

“Why are you so nosy?” he retorts and then sighs in relief as the light turns green.

Clearly, he’s not going to tell me anything personal about himself, so I try to find out more about Carrick.

Knowing Zaid has incredible loyalty to Carrick, I don’t dare try to ask anything too personal. “How does Carrick know so much about all of this stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Supernatural stuff,” I reply, even though he knows what I was asking but just likes being difficult. So I can’t help but add, “You know… fae, daemons, vampires, and such.”

“There are no vampires,” he grumbles, and I have to look out the side window, so he doesn’t see my smile. “But Carrick is quite the scholar. You should ask to see his library sometime.”

“I suppose I should get some grand tour of the entire condo at some point,” I muse since I’m now living there. “I’d love to see the library.”

“It’s in his office,” Zaid replies vaguely as The Prestige comes into view ahead.

“His office?” I ask, perplexed. I’ve been in there. There are no shelves with books, but Carrick was reading a large book last night so it must have come from this mysterious library.

Zaid doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t hide his smirk. Clearly, he knows something about this library and isn’t going to tell me.

We’re just pulling under the portico entrance to the building, so I blurt one more question, “Why did you say a journey prayer over Adira’s body?”

Zaid slams on the brakes a little too hard, apparently thrown off by my question. He turns my way, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you don’t seem to like anyone,” I point out. “You didn’t even know Adira.”

“So you judge my entire character on the fact I don’t like people?” he asks.

“Well…”

“That’s shallow, Finley,” he mutters as he steps out of the car.

And it sort of is, but I can’t reconcile his dislike of so much and to do something as tender as a prayer over a woman he didn’t know.

Shrugging, I step from the car and haul my backpack out before closing the door. Silently, I follow Zaid in, giving up on any more questions for today. But with a devious smile forming that he can’t see, I realize I have every day to and from work to hound him.

When the elevator doors to the condo open, I hear male voices coming from the kitchen. I follow Zaid, and I’m surprised to see Carrick’s brother, Maddox, sitting at the island with a beer in front of him and a slice of New York pizza in his hand.