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

What she did not do, however, was avert them from Carrick’s gaze as she answered, “That’s not Fallon anymore.”

“You’re sure?” he pressed.

Finley bit into her lower lip, the pain of knowledge ravaging her face as she nodded. “She didn’t know who Rainey or Myles were. I made up a story about a dragonfly bracelet that was important to me because she gave it to me, and she didn’t dispute it.”

“Because butterflies are your thing,” Carrick murmured.

Finley tilted her head, gazing at him curiously before nodding again. “I think most of Fallon’s memories are gone. Like she’s obliterated my sister’s soul from her body.”

Carrick winced. That was a vivid picture and most likely true.

Suddenly, Carrick noticed Finley seemed a little off. Her skin, which was normally pale, seemed to lack its glow, her eyes were flat, and her mouth was drawn down.

She left her half-consumed glass of bourbon on the table as she slowly rose from her chair. Her bearing was stoic, but he could see the hopeless acceptance in her eyes and the small quiver to her lower lip. “I think I knew all along she was gone. From the moment I saw her face change, I think I knew. I just needed to see it for myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Carrick said gently, and he was surprised he had no problem treating her with tenderness in this instance. In fact, it felt natural.

Finley stared at him a long moment, her expression morphing from being lifeless to hard granite. She didn’t seem moved by his sympathy, which bothered him more than it should.

Finally, when she spoke, it was words he really didn’t like. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to do your job, and I’ll do mine.”

Carrick ignored the gut punch that produced as he thought he might have just witnessed the death of a butterfly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Finley asked, her voice ever so soft. Almost broken.

He was powerless to deny her. “Of course.”

“What exactly is your reward for helping me thwart the prophecy?”

Carrick jolted as he had not expected that. He knew that was a bone of contention with Finley, but he didn’t care if she liked his motives or not. They were his own and were important.

But now, under the glare of the spotlight that question produced, he realized he underestimated how important the answer would be.

Carrick kept it vague. “If I succeed in helping you, I’ll be granted Ascension from the gods.”

He expected a million questions because that would be so Finley. Instead, she just hummed low in her throat. “Hmmm.”

Their eyes met and held, neither glancing away.

Finally, a little bit of caustic sass came through. “Is that like a job promotion or something?”

If this weren’t such a serious conversation, he might have laughed at the absurdity of her question. Instead, he merely replied, “Something like that.”

She nods. “Veda had told me that you were in it for the reward, but that you deserved it.”

He sure felt like he deserved it. After everything he’d done for the gods and to escape Rune’s curse… yeah, he more than deserved it.

Finley smiled then. It wasn’t in amusement or even annoyance. It was one of fatigue, and it indicated she didn’t care anymore what his motivations were.

“I’m a bit tired,” she murmured. “I might go take a nap before dinner.”

This shocked Carrick. It was barely three PM, and he assumed she’d head back to One Bean. Finley was a workaholic, and he’d never known her to take a nap in all the time since he’d met her.

He nodded in a silent dismissal that she should go. Watching her move down the hall that ran the length of the west side of his penthouse, he kept his gaze on her until she disappeared from view. Moments later, he heard her bedroom suite door open and then close softly.

Shutting his eyes, he focused his senses and tuned into her.

He hated what he felt.

Finley was crying, finally giving in to her grief over truly losing her sister. While his heart wasn’t immune to her misery, he resisted the urge to go comfort her. He didn’t have that in him, and he knew any strengthening of a relationship with her—even if in friendship—would prove to be his downfall at some point.

But he did have something he could do.

Carrick went to his office and opened up one of the cupboards in the credenza beneath his desk. In it was a paper bag that Zaid had given him the night Adira died. Inside the bag were the remnants of Finley’s Tiffany butterfly lamp.

He knew it was significant to her by the small plaque on the base that had survived it breaking apart while she fought Wade the incubus in her bedroom.

Reaching in, he pulled that piece out and scanned the engraving. To Finley, with love on your 16th birthday. Dad.