The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

The flames extinguish, and the blackened, grotesque bodies start to writhe in pain. Carrick turns his hands until his palms face the burnt daemons, and a wave of iron spikes appear in the air. Hundreds of them. Without him even moving a muscle, they heed his will and shoot toward their targets.

More shrieks as the iron pierces their skin, muscles, and bones. So many spikes that their hearts and brains can’t escape the onslaught until, one by one, they go still and start to dissipate into black smoke and ash.

When the last one floats away on the breeze, I roll over to my back and stare at the sky, sighing a huge breath of relief. Carrick could have just killed them with the spikes, but he burnt them first as punishment for daring to try to hurt me. God help me, but I love that savage side of him, too.

The sky darkens, and my vision is filled with Carrick hulking over me, fury on his face. His teeth are gritted when he snarls, “You have a lot of explaining to do, Miss Porter.”

I close my eyes, sighing again. His use of my formal name is ridiculous at this point. He knows my body, heart, and soul intimately, and I’m merely Finley or “my love” to him.

Still, that’s his way of letting me know his displeasure, as if his irritated expression doesn’t speak loudly enough.

I think about coming back with some smart-ass comment, but he doesn’t give me a chance. I’m lifted in his arms, groaning at the aches and pains, and I choose to remain quiet as Carrick carries me to the Mercedes.

* * *

It’s a quiet and somber ride back to the condo. Carrick drives and Boral takes the front passenger seat with Zora in the backseat in between me and Blain, who is still blessedly unconscious. He didn’t witness one moment of what just went down to save him, and I’m especially thankful he didn’t see Carrick incinerate and then mutilate the daemons.

Zora leans across me to press gauze to the groove from the bullet in my upper arm. My ankle is throbbing, but that’s the least of my worries.

I half expect Carrick to light into Boral for allowing me to rescue Blain while he was gone, but the only thing he does is dial someone on his cell phone. When whoever it is answers, he merely says, “At my condo… ASAP.”

He then disconnects. I assume whoever he just ordered will, in fact, be at his condo as soon as possible. Such was the command in his voice that I knew whoever was on the other line would not disobey.

Carrick chooses not to use the valet service at The Prestige, instead parking himself in the underground lot on the north side of the building. It would be too weird to explain me limping and bloodied from being shot and Blain bruised and unconscious. I refuse to let Carrick carry me, but I do allow him to support my weight as I limp to the private elevator that is for Carrick’s penthouse. Boral once again hefts Blain over his shoulder to carry him up.

The ride up is silent and tense. Zora chews at her nail, casting glances between Carrick and me. She can sense the rift, but since she doesn’t really understand relationships, I think she’s uneasy as to what this means for me. I don’t have time to reassure her, though, as the elevator doors slide open when we reach the top.

We’re met by Zaid and Maddox.

Maddox’s gaze moves over me quickly, assessing for damage. When he sees I’m upright and intact, he gives me a wink as if to say, I’m impressed you did that on your own.

Zaid, however, is not amused.

He, too, gives me a once over, but it’s done with his arms crossed over his chest and a glare so vicious that I actually shrink back a little.

Carrick isn’t about to let me punk out, though, and he forces me out of the elevator with his arm still around my waist for support.

Without looking at his brother, Carrick instructs, “Help Boral get Blain situated in a guest room. Remove whatever spell or drug has him comatose as I don’t know what was done to him, but then put him under something safe until Finley can be there. He needs to see her when he wakes up.”

“On it,” Maddox says. He leads Boral off to the south side of the condo where there’s an extra room near Maddox’s.

“She needs to be patched up,” Carrick says to Zaid as he moves me over to one of the couches. Zora follows quietly behind. “If you can handle cleaning the cut on her arm, Deandra will be here soon to heal the rest of her injuries.”

“Deandra,” I exclaim as he deposits me down onto a cushion. I try to pop back up again in protest that I have to deal with her, but Carrick’s hand on my shoulder pushes me back down.