Sighing, I set my cup down and move through the plush living area done in teak wood and leather cushioned couches. Carrick watches me but doesn’t make a move to step onto the boat.
I certainly have no intention of inviting him in, so I head out the door and walk his way. Just as I’m stepping off the boat and onto the dock, Carrick turns and walks over to a bench up against the low retaining wall that borders a parking lot on the other side. He sits, stretches his legs out, and lays an arm against the back. As I approach, he nods for me to take a seat beside him.
The bench is built to seat three or four, and I take the opposite end to him to keep distance between us. Because I’ve felt so out of control, I decide to grab it by opening the conversation. “If you’re here to change my mind, I won’t.”
Carrick’s gaze moves away from me and out over the water. “Of course I’m here to change your mind, but I have other things to talk about first.”
“Like what?” I ask suspiciously.
Not even bothering to turn back my way, he says somberly, “I saw Fallon today.”
It feels like a bomb goes off inside me, scattering my emotions in a million different directions. I twist my entire body his way and lean forward, not able to contain my curiosity and dread. “You did?”
He nods, then angles his body to face me. He hasn’t done it in a while, but he takes that ever so brief moment to focus in on my eyes, seemingly transfixed by the rims of gold, green, and blue fanning out from my pupils. They have long fascinated Carrick for some reason.
But then his gaze sharpens. “I went to the gallery to see her.”
“Is she still… is she…” I can’t even bring myself to say the words.
“Dark Fae?” he guesses, and I nod. Carrick grimaces. “Unfortunately, yes. But she carries all of Fallon’s memories. She knew who I was. I brought you up in casual conversation, and she obviously knew who you were.”
“So there’s a chance that’s still Fallon?” I ask, unable to control the hand that comes out to rest on his forearm, where I squeeze hard with hope.
Carrick’s eyes stay glued to mine, and he makes no snide comment about me touching him. But I realize that’s a breach of personal space with a man who scares me as much as he still intrigues me, so I slowly release my grip and let my hand fall away.
He doesn’t answer me right away, and I have the feeling he’s foraging around for the best response to avoid me melting down. Eventually, he gives a small shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Finley. But I think Fallon’s gone. I think this Dark Fae is just using her body and her memories.”
“But there’s a chance, right?” I press. Because I need some type of hope.
He shrugs. “There’s always a chance, but I don’t know how it would happen. I’ve never seen or heard of this before.”
“Guess you can’t run off and ask your god bosses, can you?” I mutter sarcastically.
Carrick actually looks at me like I’m an ignorant child. “It doesn’t work like that. The gods don’t deal with us. It’s a special experience if they give you access to them, and they’ve made it clear we’re on our own in regard to the prophecy.”
“Veda came to see me Saturday,” I say, trying not to sound too smug.
Carrick jerks, sitting up straight. “She did?”
God, that feels good to surprise him. To know something he doesn’t. To make him feel just a bit out of control.
“Yup,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m no longer trying to keep my smug tone at bay. I nod up to the top of the houseboat. “Sat right up on the top deck with me, and we hung out for a bit.”
“You’re dramatizing things,” Carrick says confidently. “Veda doesn’t hang. But I do believe she came to see you. What did she want?”
“Not sure it’s any of your business,” I say, somewhat petulantly. He is, after all, the one responsible for dragging me into all this mess.
“Finley,” Carrick warns in a low rumble.
“Fine,” I grouse, throwing my hands out. “She appeared out of nowhere after I’d been lamenting to myself that I wish I could tell my friends the truth of what was going on. I hate lying to them. And boom… she was there, and she offered me some type of liquid drops they can put in their eyes, and they’d temporarily be able to see beneath glamours. They’d have the proof needed to believe me rather than think I was batshit crazy if I told them everything.”
Carrick nods. “The cernentia flower. It grows in the gods’ woods, and it has magic that will enable you to see what can’t be seen.”
“Like fae and daemons,” I conclude.
“Or make a blind man see,” Carrick counters. “It’s very powerful and would most definitely let your friends see underneath fae and daemon veils.”
“Do you think I should tell them?” I ask hesitantly, and I have no clue why his opinion would even matter.
Apparently, it doesn’t matter enough for him to answer me, because he turns the subject back around to Veda. “What did she say to you about the prophecy?”
“Who says she did?” I reply vaguely.
Carrick glares at me, and there’s no sense in hiding it from him. I’m sure he could compel me to tell him the truth. He is, after all, the gods’ servant, and he has powers to make people do things.
“She came to see me to tell me I had a choice in this prophecy. She said I could choose to ignore it if I want, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
Carrick doesn’t fall for it, merely narrows his eyes. “She said more than that.”
Sadly, she did. Her visit wasn’t reassuring at all. Although I’m loath to admit it, I tell him the truth. “She said I can ignore it, but chances are it will come to fruition, and my loved ones and I will be in jeopardy.”
“Or…” he drawls, knowing instinctively there’s more.
I sigh loudly. “Or… I can take my destiny in my own hands and have more control over the outcome.”
“She’s always been the wisest in my opinion,” Carrick murmurs with a fond smile as his gaze drifts out over the water.
“She seemed cool,” I admit.
Sharply, his head whips back my way. “Don’t ever get comfortable around the gods, not even Veda. I don’t know what her angle is, but you trust no one but me, you understand?”
“But I don’t trust you.” The words come out unbidden. I have to assume they came from my heart and are true.
“You should,” he warns. “Because death will be coming after you, sooner or later. Veda was right… your best bet is to join the fray and take control of your fate.”
I pull my legs up, plant my feet—gray chucks with red trim today—on the wooden bench, and wrap my arms around my shins. Resting my chin on my knees, I stare at the Fantasia. Unable to meet his eyes, I feel incredibly weak and lame when I say in a small voice, “I don’t want to die.”
Carrick doesn’t respond so I turn my head his way, draw my arms up on my knees, and lay my cheek on them. “Can you guarantee I won’t die?”
To my surprise, I experience what I believe to be the first genuinely strong emotion from Carrick. Pain flashes across his beautiful face, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.