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

“Tell me what you just learned from that,” Carrick says.

Lifting my head to give him my regard, I try to toughen the emotion in my voice. “I don’t think the real Fallon is there anymore, or she’s pushed down so deep she can’t surface.”

“What do you mean specifically?” he pushes.

“Well, first and foremost, Fallon hates Indian food with an undying passion. If this Dark Fae inhabiting her body is pulling on Fallon’s memories, they might be weakening or disappearing altogether.”

“That’s a tremendous observation,” Carrick praises. “What else?”

“Her voice was detached. She clearly has no worries about Blain and if there was an ounce of my sister in there, I would have heard it.”

Maddox shifts on his stool toward me, his tone gentle. “You do realize that Blain is probably dead.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, surprised at feeling grief over the man. “That’s what I think. While I really didn’t like the guy, I didn’t want him to die. That’s now two deaths someone is going to pay for.”

“Why kill Blain though?” Titus ponders.

Carrick shrugs. “I suspect because he would have been in the way. He would have noticed the changes and called attention to them. Which means,” he drawls and pauses for dramatic effect, “she’s most likely going to think the same about you, Finley. The more you stay removed from her and off her radar, the safer you’ll be.”

I consider this, and I understand his point. But I am not about to give up the tiny sliver of hope I have. “But what if my sister is still in there? Maybe if she sees me, she might have the strength to show herself.”

“Absolutely not,” Carrick growls. “I forbid you to go near her.”

“You can’t forbid—”

“I can, and I will,” he replies with a growl. “Part of my biggest job now is keeping you safe, and she’s far too dangerous.”

I huff, sitting back in my chair and glaring at Carrick.

Zaid moves to the counter. He reaches for a piece of pizza, which he slides onto a plate. “Did anyone notice when she was talking about coming back to Seattle, she said we’re heading back to Seattle and there’s nothing we can do here?”

“As in plural,” Maddox concludes. “And there was clearly a man in the room with her. So she left for Switzerland with a fiancé, probably killed him and dumped his body in the Alps so it can never be found, and she’s coming back with someone else, presumably the same man we heard.”

“New lover?” Titus queries.

“Maybe,” Carrick replies, but then shakes his head. “But I’m thinking more likely an underling or an ally of some sort. If we’re operating under the theory that because of the timing of how things happened that Fallon is part of the prophecy, she’s going to most likely be pulling as many dark fae and daemons to her side as soon as possible.”

The men start discussing perhaps following Fallon when she gets back, and maybe even Carrick buying another piece of art to check her out more up close.

While I nibble at my pizza, sip at my water, and listen to them with one ear, I’m already planning how I can meet up with Fallon so I can look her over with my own eyes. It does no good to argue with Carrick about it. I’ll just leave him to believe he can control everything I do, but, at the first opportunity, I’m going head to head with Fallon to see if my sister is still in there.

CHAPTER 13

Finley

Carrick wasn’t joking… his brother, Maddox, definitely knows the seedier side of Seattle. We’re on the search for Echo, as according to Maddox, she always knows all the good gossip and rumors among fae and daemons.

Apparently, we’re not going to find her on the downtown streets as Maddox loads us up in his Hummer and takes us to SoDo, south of the stadiums near the train tracks. He told us just between 3rd Avenue South and Occidental Avenue South, there’s a huge homeless encampment where Echo lives.

Maddox’s Hummer isn’t one of those commercial ones with plush seating and modern electronics. It appears to be one plucked straight from military surplus, and it’s incredibly uncomfortable and lacking in shock absorbers because the slightest dimple in pavement causes me to jolt around.

According to Maddox, we’ll park a few blocks from the encampment and prepare to go in on foot so we look less intimidating. But that’s ridiculous thinking, given that all three men I’m with are at a minimum six and a half feet tall and dressed like they’re going to war.

I have to admit it’s a good look on Carrick. All the men wore cargo-type pants—Carrick and Titus in black and Maddox in deep olive green—tucked into combat-type boots. They all wore long-sleeved shirts that were incredibly well fit, all in black, and Titus had a strap holster that held a short sword across his back.