The Evolution of Fae and Gods (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 3)

Zaid looked at his watch, knowing Carrick would be bending distance to slip inside. “Rome is nine hours ahead of us.”

“I’ll leave in a few hours, so I hit in the wee morning hours when it’s unlikely someone will be in there,” Carrick said, standing up. The trip there would take but a second. “Until then, I’ll be in my office doing actual work for my company.”

“I’ll keep reading,” Zaid replied.

Carrick turned to head for the stairs, but Zaid stopped him with a direct, perceptive question. “Are you okay?”

Quietly sighing before he turned around, Carrick tried to school his features, but it wouldn’t matter. Zaid was an empath and could feel emotions, no matter what his face said. Zaid also knew Carrick better than anyone, even his brothers, who sometimes would spend centuries apart. But since the day Carrick and Zaid first met, Zaid had never left his side.

“I’m fine,” Carrick said, an utter lie, and he knew that Zaid knew it.

“I’ve been by your side for twelve hundred years, my old friend.” Zaid paused, letting that sink in as it was designed to be a guilt trip of sorts. “I owe you more of a debt than can ever be repaid. You’ve always wanted my counsel, and I hope now is no different.”

Damn him all to hell, Carrick thought, but he moved back to the chair he’d just vacated and sat in it heavily.

Carrick’s mood was sullen. “I already know what your counsel will be—perhaps I just don’t want to follow it.”

“Indulge me anyway,” Zaid demanded.

Carrick rubbed his hands over his face. He was a demi-god—unkillable and with endless energy—and yet he felt very tired right now.

When his gaze met Zaid’s, he said, “I kissed Finley.”

Zaid’s gray eyebrows shot up over the prominent ridge of his forehead. “You what?”

“Twice,” Carrick clarified.

“Are you mad?” Zaid exclaimed, no hiding the horror he felt.

“I must be,” Carrick replied with no small degree of self-loathing. Then he proceeded to tell Zaid everything, the absolute full truth.

That he was attracted to the consternating female.

That he was insanely jealous when Pyke danced with her.

That he kissed her in Faere.

That he thought he’d die himself when Finley almost died at Kymaris’ hands.

And lastly, about the kiss last night, which held more meaning than the first.

Zaid shook his head sadly. Carrick knew Zaid always wanted him to be happy if he could, so he braced to hear the truth that couldn’t be denied from his friend. “You cannot get involved with her like that. It will only complicate matters. Make you both sloppy.”

Carrick slumped a bit. “I know.”

“It will interfere with your Ascension,” Zaid pointed out, which should have ended any debate within Carrick’s mind.

Yet, Ascension was the last thing he was concerned about these days. “I was thinking,” Carrick began carefully. “That if I’m going to ascend, and with Arwen’s prediction that Finley’s life will be a sacrifice, why shouldn’t I take advantage of the time we have?”

“Do you really want to go there?” Zaid asked quietly, concern heavy in his voice. “Knowing what the consequence will be?”

“If I’m going to ascend, what does it matter? When I am no more, how will it even matter?”

“Because in the time you have before Ascension, your heart will become trapped, and then it will matter in the worst ways possible,” Zaid replied, and Carrick knew he spoke the truth.

He grumbled. “I knew I wouldn’t want to hear what you had to say.”

“But,” Zaid drawled as if this was the most important advice he would give, “if you decide to go down that path with Finley, I’ll have your back when things go to shit, which we both know will happen.”

This didn’t assuage Carrick. He very well knew that starting anything with Finley was the worst possible idea that could be had. He knew Zaid would give it to him straight, and he would be validated in his resolve to keep things at arm’s length with her.

Carrick knew deep in his soul that there could be no scenario in which he should ever consider kissing Finley, fucking Finley, or letting his heart go to Finley.

And just as sure as he knew that, he also understood it still wasn’t enough to discourage him from further consideration.

CHAPTER 7

Finley

The kitchen table had become my makeshift office, although I could have easily spread out down in the library to do my work. But somehow, I needed to keep that separate.

The secret library with thousands of books that held all kinds of mystical secrets was a slap in the face reminder that my life has become unpredictable and dangerous.

Working on my laptop at the bright kitchen table overlooking part of the city and the Sound lets me have some semblance of a normal life.

Today, I’m sending out emails to update vendors on One Bean. Yesterday, which was exactly ten days since the fire, I was notified that the arson investigator’s findings were inconclusive, although they suspected it was faulty electrical wiring.