“Not enough.” I shake my head. “We need more. I say we bring Boral.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Zaid says in an uncharacteristic burst of foul language. “Will you let it be with my father?”
“What about Pyke?” Maddox suggests. “He has powers, and he’s always fought alongside Carrick through the ages.”
“But can we trust him?” I ask. I’m rewarded with Maddox and Zaid roaring with laughter at my expense.
Zaid’s laughing so hard, tears start leaking out of his sunken eyes. He wipes at them, still snickering. “You trust my father, but you ask if we can trust Pyke?”
“I’d trust Pyke a million times over Boral,” Maddox adds, still chuckling.
Being the butt of their jokes pisses me off, so I’m growling when I say, “Look… we’re getting down to the wire. A month until this ritual, and we’ve got to start making some risky moves. We need more help. So, unless you two boneheads have better ideas, I say we bring both Pyke and Boral onto the team.”
Maddox opens his mouth as if to say something, but Zaid’s phone rings. He answers it, listens, and says, “You can send him up.”
That was obviously the concierge in the lobby letting us know Boral is here. He doesn’t have the passcode to get up the private elevator, nor will he ever be given it. I know they think I trust Boral, but I don’t. I merely trust he wants to help his son right now, and there’s great loyalty there. I intend to use it.
We lapse into silence, not willing to discuss our consortium of prophecy busters with Boral on the way up. Until otherwise said, he’s still more enemy than friend.
The elevator doors slide open, and I call out, “We’re in the kitchen.”
Boral appears and gives a tight smile to Maddox, a warmer smile to his son, and, to me, a genial nod as he murmurs my name, “Finley.”
“Anything good to report?” I ask as I tap the stool beside me.
It’s weird to think that I’m actually inviting a Dark Fae—who has probably killed thousands of people for no more reason than it was fun—to sit beside me so we can chat.
God, my life has changed so drastically these past three months.
Boral takes the stool offered, then swivels it to face me. Over the last few weeks, it’s clear I’m the only one who truly tolerates him, and his attention always comes to me to report.
“Kymaris has eleven original fallen Dark Fae collected now,” he says succinctly. “I’ve heard she’s in southeast Asia with a lead on one that will give her twelve.”
My eyes cut to Maddox, then to Zaid, as if to say, See… if Boral were feeding her info, she would have gone to the address we slipped him rather than traipse off to Asia.
“Any more information on what purpose the twelve serve?” I ask, although I know they will supposedly be a conduit according to what Boral told us before.
He shakes his head. “I only know Kaesar has said she’s promised the twelve that they will become her highest-ranking nobles when it’s all over.”
Something about his tone perks my interest. “You sound as if you doubt that?”
Boral leans his elbow on the counter, his back now fully to Maddox. He ignores his son, who stands on the other side of the island. “Kymaris isn’t exactly the most trustworthy fae I’ve ever known. She has no true loyalty to anyone, even those that give it to her blindly.”
See… right there. In my heart, I know Boral is an asset we can’t do without, and I know he can better serve us if he fully understands what’s going on.
I bring my gaze to Zaid, pointedly conveying that we need more of his help. I lean to the side to see past Boral and over to Maddox, giving him the same.
“It’s time,” I say to both men as I bring my gaze back to the Dark Fae sitting beside me. I’m not talking to him, but it’s his eyes I’m focused on. “It’s time we tell him more.”
I’m surprised when I don’t get immediate denials from Zaid or Maddox, and I cut them glances. Neither one is looking at me, eyes averted downward.
Boral is clearly confused. “Tell me more? What more?”
“There’s a lot more,” I say as I try to calm the racing of my heart. I’m not getting push back from Zaid or Maddox, which means their silence is an acquiescence.
Now that I have it, I have to be incredibly careful and deliberate in what I’m about to tell Boral because certain things must remain secret. For example, my powers. I don’t want him to know I have a light inside of me that will hopefully be tapped so I can use it to my advantage. But I do need him to know I’m at the center of the prophecy and the key to stopping it so we can have him find out what my part in the ritual is.
I don’t want him to know about my sister being an identical twin, but he’s going to need to know I want to travel to the Underworld for something important to me.
One last look at Zaid and Maddox. Both men are now focused on me. While I can see they aren’t going to fight me, they don’t like this move.
Tough shit. No one else is stepping up to make the hard calls.
Giving my attention back to Boral, I take a deep breath and let it out. “Okay… there are some things we know about what’s going on with Kymaris that we need to bring you up to speed on, in the hopes you can get us some more detailed information. The first thing you need to know—”
“You better fucking stop right there, Miss Porter,” comes from behind me, and I go dizzy with recognition at that voice.
I swivel around slowly on my stool to see Carrick striding into the kitchen. My eyes hungrily take him in, quickly ensuring he looks healthy and whole. I want to slap him for that Miss Porter dig, an effort to make me feel like I’m a child playing in the big leagues and I’m not allowed on his team.
Mostly, though, I want to kiss him.
His gaze locks on to me, and it seems like we stare at each other forever with the rest of the world melting away. I’ve spent weeks lying in bed at night, imagining all the things we would talk about when he gets back. Yet, at this moment, my tongue is completely tied.
Slowly, his attention moves to Boral as he comes to stand beside my stool. I merely tip my head back to continue to stare at him as he stays focused on the Dark Fae. “Apparently, Finley seems to think you’re ready to come on board with our team.”
Phew… no more Miss Porter.
“I trust her judgment, but I’d never let her tell you anything unless you agree to a binding,” he adds.
I wince because I never once thought of that. When I shoot Maddox a scowl, I can tell by his sheepish expression that he never thought to offer it either.
“A binding,” Boral drawls slowly, and I can see the interest in the offer is deep. He knows it must be a phenomenal story if Carrick is insisting on a binding.
“Not a regular binding, though,” Carrick murmurs. While his tone is soft, it’s coldly menacing. “I want your heart instead of your tongue if you betray our secrets.”
That gets my tongue loosened, and I jerk in shock. “You can do that? Take his heart rather than his tongue? Why didn’t you do that for Nimeyah?”
Carrick’s eyes move lazily toward me, and the smile he gives me says he thinks I’m adorable right now. I try to suppress a growl.