The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

Yeah… she’s way better than Stan. I hate to admit it, but she’s more pleasant, too.

“Thank you,” I say appreciatively. She just stares at me as if not understanding the meaning of gratitude.

Waiting for additional direction.

“Um… so how are you settling into Seattle?” I ask with an encouraging smile.

Deandra just blinks.

“I like your outfit.” I sweep my eyes down it. “The shoes are killer.”

More blinking.

“Oh, to hell with it.” I heave a sigh as I push up from the couch. “Come on. Carrick wants to talk to you.”

Deandra stands, moves back to the chair where she deposited her purse, and grabs it. When she turns, her eyes land on Zora.

She’d have to have seen her when she walked in and motioned for her and Zaid to give her room on the couch, but I think Deandra is just one of those Light Fae—no wait, one of those types of females because there are humans like this, too—who are just so stuck on themselves, they don’t notice much else.

Deandra freezes as she takes in my identical twin. She knew about her since she was told everything with her heart binding to Carrick, but she had yet to see her.

With a frown, she asks, “Why is your hair white?”

Zora’s gaze slides to me, and I shrug. We’ve often pondered the same thing to each other. Zora told me it’s been white for as long as she can remember so we assumed it might have turned that way with the first infusion of magic they gave her.

Before Zora can even respond, Deandra waves her hand. “Don’t bother answering. I just realized I don’t care.”

I roll my eyes, and Maddox snorts.

Deandra looks at me expectantly. “Shall we?”

Meaning… Lead me on to Carrick, minion.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” I say to Zora, then give my attention to Maddox. “You’ll watch over Blain.”

“He’s fine but, yes, we’ll keep an eye on him.”

I smile at Maddox—who has been my brother-in-law at times in the past—and dare a look to Zaid to see how pissed he still is. I get his normal grumpy face and I’m not sure how to take it, so I just give him an apologetic smile before leading Deandra away from the group and to Carrick’s office.

While Deandra has been told everything related to me and the prophecy, in the short time she stayed here at Carrick’s condo until she moved into her own, she never saw the library. It’s not that we intentionally kept it secret from her, it’s that she had no interest in joining our cause so it was sort of moot to have her come down there to help research or discuss strategies.

I revel slightly in the little gasp of surprise she makes when I hit the secret button and the wall slides open to reveal the spiral staircase. I take a step into the small alcove, but her voice stops me.

“Did you use your magic?” she asks.

Frowning, I glance back. “When?”

“When you took on the daemons.”

“Oh, yeah,” I reply turning fully to face her. “I used it to pick a lock to get in, then a shield against the bullets. But mostly, I ran like hell.”

“That’s cowardly,” she rebukes.

“Hardly,” I reply with a laugh. “However, you’d have been proud of me that I ran the gauntlet in Semper Terra and did amazing.”

I wasn’t sure if she even knew what Semper Terra was, but when her eyebrows rise and an expression of what I think might be pride flickers over her features, I know she does.

“You survived the gauntlet?” she drawls, her mouth curved slightly.

“Piece of cake.” I snap my fingers and can’t resist teasing. “And I used lots of good magic, too. Are you proud of me?”

Deandra scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I’d have to like you to be proud of you.”

I can’t help but laugh. It’s exactly what I’d expect her to say, and damn if I don’t find it a little endearing. It’s true I used to hate this snotty princess with all my being, but she helped me in the way that I needed it the most to be able to battle Kymaris and I will never, ever forget it.

And deep down… I know Carrick is right. We do need Deandra on our side to help stop the ritual.

“Come on,” I say, still chuckling as I descend the spiral staircase.

Deandra follows, I imagine quite gracefully, but I don’t bother looking back. Carrick is at the head of the long table with a book open before him, but his head turns our way as he hears our descent.

He doesn’t spare me but a curt look before turning his attention to Deandra with a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

Waving at the table, he says, “Please sit. Would you like anything to drink?”

“I’d love some tea,” she replies as she deposits her purse on the table, pulls a chair out to Carrick’s right, and settles into it. She gracefully crosses one leg over the other.