“I’m evil,” Boral sneers. “Why would I help you?”
“Because she’s more evil,” I point out, then nod over my shoulder at Zaid. “And I can tell you love your son… even if it’s in a demented sort of way. I could hear it in your voice when you spoke of Kaesar and how he didn’t care his son had been sacrificed. It bothered you.”
No one says anything. Zaid stares stonily at his father, Carrick at the floor, and me at Boral, who seems to be calculating everything I just said.
“Your son told me that you can be created or born dark, yet still have the capacity to change. Just as you can be born light, and go dark. Now, I’m not asking you to become the father of the year, or turn over a golden new leaf. But why not show your son you can be there for him? Join our side and prove it to him.”
“This isn’t a good idea, Finley,” Carrick mutters.
But Boral says, “I accept.”
“It wasn’t an offer by me,” Zaid points out.
I shoot him a glare because he could show at least a little receptiveness to my idea. “Zaid… he can be a plant right in Kymaris’ own house.”
“It’s true,” Boral says with a nod of his head. “She’s recruiting as many fae and daemons to her side as she can. Kaesar could get me into the inner fold without any suspicions. My reputation is sinister enough that she’d welcome me with open arms.”
“Christ,” Carrick mutters, giving his back to all of us and running a hand through his hair. Eventually, though, he looks to the one person in this room whose decision this is. “Zaid… tell me what to do here.”
Zaid glances at his father, then to me, where he holds my gaze before saying. “I think Finley has an idea worth exploring.”
“Excellent—” Boral says with a wide smile, but Zaid wheels around on him.
“Don’t think this changes anything between us,” Zaid snarls at his father. “If you betray us in any way, I’ll be the one who kills you, not Carrick.”
Boral actually jerks a bit from the hatred in Zaid’s tone, but he ultimately inclines his head. “I understand. And it might not change anything now, but maybe it will in the future.”
“Doubt it,” Zaid mutters as he pivots on his heel and stalks away.
“Maybe,” I say brightly to Boral, deciding to interject some hope and optimism in this little family saga.
He flashes a smile, and it’s surprisingly not as sinister.
While I’ll never trust him, I think I just made my first truly dark ally.
If that’s the case, I intend to pick his brain about the Underworld as much as I can to start planning how to rescue Zora.
This is working out well for me.
CHAPTER 26
Finley
It’s been a long day.
After Boral left, Zaid, Carrick, and I started hatching a plan to find the Blood Stone. It involved Carrick seeking Veda’s help to see if we could identify the demi-god who wrote the Libri Mysteria.
Assuming we could find him, and he led us to Micah’s realm, we then had to determine how to get the stone. Would Micah, who was now a monster, defend it? We had to assume so, since his true love was locked away inside. So that meant we had to bring power with us, which meant getting Lucien, Maddox, and maybe Titus as well.
I even suggested maybe Boral, but both Carrick and Zaid shot that down quickly.
And then there was the matter of my participation. It ended up being only a slight argument, but I won. I would be going, too.
It started to get late in the dinner hour, and Zaid promised he’d make something for us. I went to get a quick shower because I was still in my workout gear, but I didn’t bother with primping. It was fun to get a reaction from Carrick earlier today, but I didn’t need it. I knew his attraction to me went far beyond if my hair was styled or I was wearing makeup.
I leave my room and head into the kitchen, my nose delighting in the wonderful smells of what I think is roasted chicken and maybe garlic potatoes in the oven.
Zaid is cutting up some cucumbers and tomatoes for a salad.
I sniff loudly. “Smells divine.”
I get a return grunt. “It will still be about forty-five minutes. Carrick’s waiting for you out on the patio.”
“Okay,” I say easily as I reach out to grab a cucumber. Zaid tries to slap my hand, but I come away with my prize before he touches me. I grin, waving my cucumber. “Getting slow.”
He goes for a glare, but the small quirking of his lips tells me that he’s amused. This makes me glad because I wasn’t sure if he was mad that I sort of invited his dad onto our team. In the end, I guess he probably doesn’t care, just like he hasn’t cared about his dad for eons.