Pulling one side of her robe out, she waved it playfully, then took a sip of her drink. “You know… we don’t have such finery as this down in the Underworld. Although I had the power to conjure such pretty things, it’s just not the same as shopping at Saks.”
“Hmmm,” Carrick replied. “I am curious, though… how did you get powers to conjure down in the Underworld?”
He assumed she had some measurable powers, given that magic had been brought down into the Underworld and had evolved. But he was curious how she came by hers.
Kymaris shrugged as if the detail were insignificant. “One of my loyal followers had been summoned to the Earth realm by some stupid human ancient priest who thought to control a Dark Fae. Stupid human priest lost his head, and my loyal follower returned to me with a stone.”
Carrick smiled. That was pretty much what he figured, but he wanted to get her talking.
“And how exactly did you get your power to come here?” he asked smoothly. He knew the answer, but he wanted to get an idea of how much she was willing to share through her own arrogance.
Kymaris smiled coyly, but she couldn’t pull that level of bashful shyness off. Instead, she looked like the cat that ate the canary. “Oh, you know… a little ritual that pumped me up full of good stuff that let me come and enjoy this lovely realm. Were you impressed with my fireballs?”
Carrick had to force down the growl of fury that threatened to erupt because of the reminder she had tried to kill Finley. Despite his swirling anger, he kept his tone bland. “They’re definitely better than any I’ve seen in a Dark Fae, but pale stacked up against a Light Fae.”
Kymaris narrowed her eyes at the comparison, her lips pulling back from her teeth in anger. “No Light Fae has the power I do.”
“Not even your sister?” Carrick queried with a raised eyebrow.
Carrick could tell Kymaris wanted to erupt with fury at the suggestion Nimeyah would be stronger. But she reined it in, scoffing instead. “She’s not my sister, and she wouldn’t know what real power was if it slapped her in the face.”
“It would be interesting to see you two battle,” Carrick mused, his tone clearly doubting Kymaris’ claim to be better.
“If you want to see a demonstration of my powers,” she offered with a glare. “I can show you.”
Carrick tipped his head and laughed at the suggestion, which infuriated her further. “Battle with you? A Dark Fae versus a demi-god? You’d lose, and you’d lose badly.”
Kymaris’ hand was shaking from his taunt, but he had to give her credit… she took in a breath and calmed herself. “You may be a demi-god, but you have no idea the extent of what I can do.”
Carrick was done baiting her. He had no desire to push her to the point she clammed up. While he refused to stroke her ego, he decided to handle her with a bit more tact.
Nodding toward the furniture, he asked, “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” she replied, moving gracefully around a couch to sit on the middle cushion. She put her glass of liquor on the table, then leaned sideways to pat the cushion beside her invitingly. He ignored her attempt and took a chair adjacent to the couch.
She didn’t look put out by the rebuff, merely leaned back, draping one arm over the back cushion and crossing her legs. Her robe fell open, exposing her entire negligee-clad body, but Carrick wasn’t interested and he knew it would irritate her that he wasn’t.
“Tell me why you’re here, Kymaris,” Carrick asked smoothly. “I know there’s a prophecy, and I can only assume you intend to create some sort of chaos.”
“Worried about your little human?” she purred in reply.
“Not at all.” Carrick settled into the chair, propped an ankle on the opposite knee, and smiled. “You and I both know a human is irrelevant going up against you and your powers.”
“And yet you’re helping her,” Kymaris pointed out.
Carrick was not about to give away a hint as to why he had a dog in this fight, and he had no qualm against lying to her. “I’ve been offered a reward from the gods to guide the human. But you and I both know the end result will be her death.”
“True,” Kymaris simpered with a tip of her head, but then her face hardened. “But if you think you can fool me into thinking you don’t have feelings for the human, try again.”
Carrick’s gut tightened, but he didn’t respond.
Kymaris laughed. “I saw the look on your face in that coffee shop when she was moments away from dying. It wasn’t your actions—putting yourself between her and my fire—but your expression that gave it away.”
“You’re wrong,” he replied, but fuck if she wasn’t right. And she knew it. Redirecting, he attempted to appeal to her vanity again. “I know you have big plans here. I want to know what they are.”