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

Carrick stiffens slightly, but he angles my way to scowl. “You say that as if there’s something wrong with it.”

“It has its uses,” I admit. “But do you ever do anything without any return benefits?”

“I’m helping you learn about your abilities,” he proffers, his expression bland.

I shake my head. “Uh-uh. There’s something in it for you. I’m sure of it.”

Carrick’s face clouds over, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. He stands to benefit from the answers he might find. The question is, if it benefits him, is there a chance it will harm me?

From the start, I’ve never trusted Carrick, but, over time, he has never done anything to hurt me. He made it possible for me to buy One Bean, he’s seen to my education about this strange new world I’m in, and he saved me from certain death in that alley with the succubus. For these reasons, and also a healthy dose of gut instinct about him, I don’t think he ultimately means me any harm.

In fact, my gut instinct tells me there’s something about Carrick I don’t yet understand, but that if I were to figure it out, I’d see him in a completely different way.

“No thank you on the offer of a healer,” I finally say, moving the conversation away from the ethics of how he operates. “I’d rather hold onto that favor in case I were to be more seriously injured.”

“Titus says you’ve done well in just the three days he’s worked with you, the whip injury notwithstanding.”

That makes me laugh, which makes Carrick turn his gaze from me as I admit, “He’s taught me a lot. It’s a good thing I had a fighting foundation.”

“You should train on the short sword or ax,” Carrick mutters irritably.

I snort. “You sound like Titus. But I’ll stick with the whip if it’s all the same. I feel a connection to it for some reason.”

Carrick turns my way, eyes inscrutable as they study me. He seems to be contemplating something, but rather than speak, he merely shakes his head as if he’s almost saddened and looks forward once again.

I don’t bother pestering Carrick for details on where we’re going or who we’re going to see. I’ve learned well enough he’s stingy with information, and I’ll find out soon enough so it’s not all that important for me to battle him on this.

For the next twenty minutes, we ride in silence—headed toward the northwestern ’burbs not far from my neighborhood. I mourn the demise of my date and what could have been something with Michael, and God knows what Carrick is thinking.

We pull up to a strip mall in Greenwood. It’s run down, and some of the stores are even boarded up. Trash litters the parking lot from what little I can see, but it’s not much because most of the security pole lights are out.

There’s a tobacco store and a Pho restaurant open, but several stores are darkened, indicating this strip mall is dying. Carrick’s driver heads to the other end of the long building toward a small shop with a blinking neon sign in the window that says, “Madame Beaulieu”.

Our car pulls right up to the curb in front of the shop and Carrick opens the door, turning to offer me a hand before I get out. This is appreciated, mainly because the skirt portion of this dress is a bit tight and hard to maneuver in. He drops it as soon as I’m upright, then steps onto the sidewalk that runs the length of the mall.

My gaze moves past him to the neon sign. “Madame Beaulieu?” I ask dubiously.

“My brother says this is a good lead,” Carrick reveals, moving toward the glass door. It’s dark on the other side. I can’t see in, but there’s a tiny sign on the front door that says, “Open”.

“Maddox sure has some crazy contacts,” I murmur.

“Not Maddox,” Carrick says. “My other brother, Lucien.”

That’s right. Carrick did say he had more than one brother. I wonder just how many he has, but I don’t have time to ask because he’s pushing the door open. There’s a tinkling bell overhead, and we walk into a small lobby with red, silk-covered walls, floor lamps with beads and silk scarves thrown over them so the light is muted, and shelves with weird items like crucifixes, skulls, and ornate little glass bottles with different-colored liquids. There’s a doorway, but without an actual door. Instead, a beaded curtain hangs over it, and it’s dark on the other side. If Carrick starts walking that way, I’m going to refuse and just hang with the driver outside as this place is a bit creepy.

I glance out the door, seeing the driver leaning against the car. It grounds me a little, but when I turn back around, a woman practically bursts through the beaded curtain causing my heart to nearly leap out of my chest.