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

She turns for the flap door, but something else strikes me. “Wait. Are there vampires and werewolves? Everyone has said no, but you told me there was an angel at my birth, so I’m just trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not.”

Giggling, Arwen shakes her head. “There are no vampires or werewolves. I promise.”

“Phew,” I say with a dramatic wipe of my hand across my brow. We’re both laughing as we exit the tent.

Pyke paces while Carrick stands casually on the other side of the fire.

It’s Pyke who rushes forth. “What did you see, Arwen?”

“That’s Finley’s story to tell,” Arwen replies softly.

“And it’s a story I am going to hold tight to for now,” I say to both men.

Pyke frowns, but Carrick’s expression remains placid, as if he expected no less.

“Can we go home now?” I ask him.

He smiles and nods. Turning to Pyke, he holds out his arm and after a moment, Pyke takes it to grasp at the forearm. He doesn’t seem pleased I’m not sharing Arwen’s scrying, but he does clap Carrick on the shoulder. “I’m available to help whenever. Just let me know.”

“Appreciate it,” Carrick says, and the two men break apart.

Pyke doesn’t approach as Carrick walks to me. He merely extends a low bow as he says, “You’re welcome back anytime, Finley.”

Fat chance, but I smile and thank him.

Carrick takes my hand, glancing over his shoulder at Pyke. There’s no shimmering curtain created the way Stan opened the doorway into Faere. Instead, Pyke merely balls his hand up like he’s holding something and throws it past Carrick and me. A glowing circle forms in the air. While I can’t see anything past the illumination, I know without a doubt Carrick’s condo is on the other side.

I give a last farewell glance to Arwen, who smiles back at me. Then I follow Carrick into the glow and back to the Earth realm.

CHAPTER 23

Finley

When we exit the portal created by Pyke, my hand tightly gripped in Carrick’s, we step right out into his kitchen in the exact spot from where Stan sent us through. Except it’s noticeably different in that it’s dark outside even though it was daylight in Faere. Also missing is Zaid, but I’m sure he’s lurking somewhere.

I tug free of Carrick. “We have to talk. Arwen had a lot of information I need to tell you.”

“Thought you wanted to hold tight to it for a while,” he drawls.

Shaking my head, I explain, “Arwen said I was to trust you, and since she specifically didn’t mention anyone else that applied to, I wasn’t about to say anything in front of Pyke.”

“Sometimes I underestimate you,” Carrick mutters. “Want to go to my office?”

“Sure,” I reply, pondering the conversation we’re going to have as I follow him out of the kitchen. Because it’s not going to just be about what I learned from Arwen.

We’re going to put everything out on the table.

Carrick enters his office first, flipping on the overhead light. He eschews his desk in favor of us sitting in the furniture grouping. Reminiscent of the first night I came to his condo where he told me about fae and daemons, I had taken the couch and he the chair adjacent to it. Back then, we were both dressed in business attire, and now we’re both in casual outdoor gear and smelling faintly of gryffin.

Assuming his usual casual recline, propping an ankle on a knee, Carrick leans on one armrest and waits for me to divulge what happened.

But first things first. “Arwen told me to trust you, and I’ve decided that I’m going to do just that.”

“I’m glad,” he replies with a slight smile.

“But,” I continue with a pointed look. “I need to know you trust me back. So I’m asking you for the very last time, what are you?”

He blinks, eyes widening in surprise. But his expression almost immediately smooths out, and he counters with a question of his own. “You already know what I am, don’t you?”

“A demi-god,” I reply with a firm nod.

Sighing, Carrick rises from his chair and gazes down at me. “You would be right. Come on… I have something to show you.”

He looks neither upset I know what he is nor happy either. Possibly a little relieved as he walks around his desk. I follow. At the end of his built-in shelves that connect to the back wall, he reaches under the crown molding edge and pushes something. I’m stunned to see that part of the shelves swivel open, revealing a hidden passage aglow with sconce lighting.

“Whoa,” I breathe out.

Carrick sweeps his hand, motioning me in before him. I take a few steps and gasp as I immediately come to a spiral staircase framed in wrought iron with glossy wooden steps that lead downward.

They lead down exactly one floor, where there is a spectacular library so large I can’t see where it ends.