“Have you spoken to Finley?” Titus asked, his deep voice rumbling with concern. Titus and Finely had gotten tight over the last several weeks while he’d been training her to hone her already-impressive fighting skills from her years of MMA training.
Carrick shook his head, drumming his fingers on the table. “I stopped by One Bean yesterday and asked for her. The day manager said she was sick with the flu and working from home.”
Titus nodded, understanding full well that Finley’s only way to cope at this point was to apparently hide and hope things would just go away. Titus was a hundred and twenty-nine years old—the benefit of living in Semper Terra where people didn’t age because of the magic there—and had seen many trainees come through the academy where annihilators were trained. It was often one thing to train and learn about the dark forces out there, but it was a far different thing when actually confronted with extinguishing it. Based on his training so far, Titus knew Finley was brave and had what it took deep down inside to step up to her destiny, but there was no shame in needing a bit of time and space to truly accept it.
The question was how much time, because no one had a clue as to when this dark calamity would be unleashed.
“She needs to get with it,” Zaid grumbled irritably. “She’s being selfish and immature.”
Based on his tone, one might think Zaid didn’t like Finley, but, in truth, he didn’t really like anyone. Carrick had become used to this churlish attitude.
“How much time are you going to give her?” Titus queried. “The longer we leave her alone, the harder it would be to pull her back in.”
“We can’t force her if she’s not willing,” Carrick replied.
“You’re just going to sit and wait for her to come to her senses?” Zaid demanded, then betrayed some of his feelings where Finley was concerned by adding on in a surly tone, “She’s in danger every minute she’s out there on her own.”
“I put a protection spell in place,” Carrick informed Zaid, who seemed to relax slightly at this news. “It will protect her and her roommates. But let’s put Finley aside for the moment.”
Carrick picked up his coffee and took a sip. If he was worried about Finley and her role in the prophecy, he didn’t show it. As ever, he appeared calm and unruffled despite the heavy air of disaster that seemed to be hanging over them. “We need to figure out Fallon. How and why she changed into a Dark Fae.”
“Clearly it’s related to the prophecy,” Titus said with confidence.
“I would agree with that,” Carrick replied. “It’s too coincidental knowing Finley will be a part of it with that feather showing up on her leg at the same time.”
“I’ve reached out to some people about the feather.” Zaid leaned forward, placed his arms on the table, and clasped his hands. “I haven’t been able to dig anything up yet.”
“Keep trying,” Carrick commanded. “Stan told us The Scryer in Faere might have some answers for us.”
Stan was a Light Fae who was content to live in the earthly realm rather than in Faere, the magical dimension his kind had created thousands of years ago so they could live without fear of the humans who greatly outnumbered them as their population numbers grew. He was also a seer who could see somewhat into the future, but apparently not with the clarity The Scryer in Faere could.
Stan had said there was a dark uprising coming, and that was about the most information they had on the prophecy so far. Given that Finley’s sister had turned into a Dark Fae, the coincidence could not be pushed aside. It was possible Fallon had something to do with that uprising. In all likelihood, she could be the catalyst for it.
“Zaid,” Carrick said, bringing his gaze to his friend. “I want you to call Fallon to set up a meeting for me this morning.”
Zaid pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, searching for the number to Fallon’s art gallery. As he did so, Carrick explained his intentions. “I need to know if Finley’s sister still exists inside of this new creature. Is she trapped in there? Or has this Dark Fae taken over completely, and if so, does she retain memories of the real Fallon?”
“If she does…” Titus said, interrupting Carrick’s line of thought. “That means she can hide in plain sight—assuming Fallon’s life—while all of this plays out.”
Carrick nodded. “Exactly. So let’s see just how much she remembers about me for the time being, and we’ll proceed from there.”
It was a safe play, and the information was needed. Fallon was a danger, but just how much of one was unknown. Carrick could hold his own with any Dark Fae, so he wasn’t concerned about meeting her. But his ultimate desire was to find out how this new Fallon felt about her sister. He needed to see just how much danger Finley could be in from this creature.
Zaid dialed the gallery, efficiently making his way past Fallon’s assistant by merely announcing he was calling on behalf of Carrick Byrne. Everyone in Seattle knew who Carrick was because he was the richest of the rich, practically dubbed Seattle royalty. Fallon had been courting him to buy art from her gallery before all of this went down, which was how they first met.
With a grimace, Carrick remembered it was where he first met Finley Porter, setting him on this trajectory with her. Admittedly, there was a time when he just wanted to kill her to get her out of his life, but now her health and well-being were directly tied to his ability to ascend. Now he had to protect her at all costs.
While Zaid was placed on hold, he put his phone on speaker and laid it on the table so everyone could hear. The wait wasn’t long, and Fallon’s voice came across loud and clear for the three men to hear.
Carrick easily recognized her by sound, but there was an added element to her tone that was off. It was a bit huskier, maybe a little deeper in inflection. There was a brusqueness to it whereas the real Fallon was warm and engaging. “This is Fallon Porter.”
Zaid leaned over the phone. “Miss Porter… I’m calling on behalf of Carrick Byrne. He was wondering if perhaps he could come by this morning and look at some art for his home office.”
“I would be honored,” she replied calmly, sounding neither overly excited nor put out by the request. “What time would be good?”
Carrick and Zaid shared a knowing glance. The real Fallon Porter would have been far more exuberant to have Carrick wanting to look at some of her art.
Zaid pushed a bit at her to see if she was playing a role or if any of the real Fallon’s memories were in there. “The sooner the better,” he replied, smirking at Carrick. “The last time he was there, he was very regretful he didn’t get the chance to look around.”
Fallon laughed before she purred. “I was disappointed he couldn’t stay for the show, too. He missed some fantastic pieces I would have personally loved to show him.”
There was an underlying sexual timbre in her words, but despite that, Carrick relaxed a little, hearing her confirm knowledge of their first meeting. Perhaps Finley’s sister was still inside and could be saved, although that wasn’t his primary objective. Still, if he could find a way to save her in the process of thwarting the prophecy, he would do that for Finley.
“How about in say, an hour?” Zaid offered.