Frowning, I ask, “What’s with the dramatic sigh?”

  In the four years I’ve known and loved this woman, I’ve maybe seen her blush three times, but now I’m seeing a fourth. Her eyes snap to mine, and she shrugs. “I just think it’s sweet Myles jumped in to save the day with finding you this place, and now he’s cooking dinner so you and I can relax, and well…”

  Her words drift off, floating away on the Lake Union breeze.

  I stare at her perplexed, but with a niggling feeling I’m recognizing something here Rainey may have let slip. And because she’s my dearest friend along with Myles, I have no shame in asking her point-blank, “Do you… do you like Myles?”

  Her blush deepens as her chin jerks inward. She waves dismissively. “Of course not.”

  My bullshit-o-meter goes off like a four-alarm fire bell clanging. “You do like him,” I accuse playfully.

  Rainey ducks her head, seeming to prepare for another denial, then just as quickly brings her eyes to mine.

  In an almost piteous moan, she says, “Yes. Okay. Yes, I like him. Are you happy? And it’s so stupid because Myles looks at me like I’m his sister, which makes it all the worse.”

  No stopping my mouth from dropping. Not only from Rainey’s admission, which I didn’t see coming at all, because let’s face it—she likes rich sugar-daddy-type men—but also because how could she not see Myles was in love with her? He has perpetual puppy dog eyes in her presence.

  “Um… Rainey,” I say gently, making sure her attention is riveted on me. “I don’t know how to break this to you, but Myles likes you too.”

  “As a friend,” she mutters with another wave of her head. But then her eyebrows rise hopefully. “Or do you mean he likes me as more than a friend?”

  “More than a friend,” I state emphatically. “But he’s never acted on it because he always thought you were beyond his reach.”

  “He told you this?” she asks in awe.

  “One drunken night out, yes. And made me swear to never repeat it, but seeing as how you like him, I have to let that secret fly. Besides, out of the two of you, you’re the only one brash enough to make a move.”

  “Why would he ever think I was beyond his reach?” she ponders, her nose scrunching. Then her expression turns to alarm. “Oh God… he thinks I’m a vain, shallow, vapid bitch, doesn’t he? Because I’m always going on about finding a rich husband and stuff.”

  She leans forward dramatically—although without any real effort—and bangs her head on the table to accentuate her stupidity, causing her martini glass to rattle.

  “He doesn’t think that about you at all,” I assure her. “He likes everything about you.”

  Rainey twists until her cheek now rests on the table. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better about being a vain, shallow, vapid bitch, are you?”

  “You are none of those things, and you know it,” I admonish. “And Myles adores you as a friend, and I’m sure on a deeper level.”

  Bolting upright, Rainey grips the edge of the table, eyes wide with alarm. “So what do I do now? How do I play this? Do I just come right out and say I like you? Do I play coy and just flirt? Or maybe get him drunk, and—”

  “Rainey,” I say sharply to stop her nervous tirade. Her mouth snaps shut. “I’m sure you can figure it out. Both of you like each other, and, yes, you have an advantage because you know he likes you in return. I’m sure nature will take its course, but if you want to push it along, I’m sure a little flirting will help.”

  She beams such a joyous smile that her beauty is turned into a stunning display. With Mount Rainier in the distance behind her, its splendor seems to pale in comparison to her.

  Jerking my head toward the sliding doors, I suggest, “Why don’t you go help him with dinner?”

  Her eyes move that way, back to me, then down to her martini. She picks it up, takes it down in four hefty swallows, and smacks her lips as she sets down the empty glass. Standing up, she smooths down her sweater over her hips and asks, “Do I look okay?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re a hag. Now go get your man.”

  Rainey gives a little yip of excitement. She does a happy dance that lasts for about five seconds, and then she’s charging off.

  Leaning back in the chaise with a satisfied smile, I think this is the best thing to have happened in an awfully long time. I think they could be a true love match, and I’m going to be rooting for them the entire way.

  But it doesn’t take long for feelings of melancholy to flush the joy away. Rainey just shared a huge secret with me and although she was scared to do so at first, she ultimately trusted in me. It makes me sad I can’t do the same with her.

  Or Myles for that matter.

  That I can’t share with my two best friends in the world everything that is going on in my life. The things I can see, the danger we’re all in, and the fact my sister essentially died last night. The loneliness presses upon me like a heavy weight. For the briefest of moments, I wish Carrick were here to talk to.

  But that’s not an option. Despite how isolated I feel, I know that my path with him is far more than I can or want to handle. I gaze down into my coffee cup, only about a sip left now, regretting drinking caffeine this late.

  I ponder what would happen if I just sat Rainey and Myles down to tell them in a calm, rational way all that has happened. Surely, the fact Carrick is part of this—a successful and rich businessman—would lend credibility to my story. Of course, Carrick isn’t part of my life, so he couldn’t back me up. I’m not sure he would anyway.

  Bottom line, this is all just too fantastical for two rational people to believe, even as open-minded as Rainey and Myles are. And their knowledge that I have a mental health history will make them think those issues are resurfacing. It would be understandable human nature to think that way.

  Besides, do I really want to bring them into my nightmare? How much of a disservice would I be doing to them by sharing the burden if they believed me?

  There’s no good answer, so I need to quit thinking about it.

  Deciding that a beer would taste good and a few might help me sleep tonight, I start to swing my legs off the chaise to head inside. Instead, I let out a short scream of surprise as I realize there’s a woman standing not three feet from my chair.

  I don’t know where she came from. I’m on the top deck, and there’s no way up here except through the sliding doors that lead out from a game room and I most certainly did not hear them open.

  A friend of Myles? Rainey? That has to be it.

  Pressing my hand to my heart, I give a nervous laugh. “Sorry… you scared me. I’m Finley.”

  “Yes, I know all about you,” the woman replies, and her lilting voice sounds like musical bells.

  I tilt my head in curiosity, noting she has possibly the coolest hair I’ve ever seen. Black at the roots extending several inches and bleeding into a charcoal gray, then a light gray until the ends are white. It’s long, parted in the middle, and tucked behind her ears.

  She’s dressed like a regular Seattleite, pretty much like me right now in jeans and a flannel, and she looks to be about my age.

  “I’m sorry,” I say frowning. “But are you a friend of Myles or Rainey?”

  The woman shakes her head. “I’m Veda.”

  The minute she says her name, I go cold all over, and the coffee cup falls from my hand, shattering on the deck and causing the last bit to splash my legs.

  I may have been in information overload when Carrick was educating me on the prophecy, but I distinctly remember him saying that name.

  A member of The Council.

  God of Humanity.

  I wasn’t sure if it was a woman, the term god denoting a male being, but Veda did sound like a feminine name. But the really shocking part is how normal she looks—despite the cool hair. I guess I thought she’d dress a little more Roman or Greek-like, but I know that’s just the mythology of the gods I’ve learned throughout life.

  “I see you know who I am,” she says in amusement and moves past me to sit in the chair Rainey had vacated. She leans forward, sniffs the empty martini glass, and wrinkles her nose.

  When her gaze comes back to me, she motions to one of the other chairs at the table. “Please… come and sit with me. We have much to talk about.”

  I look toward the sliding doors, wondering if I should try to make a break for it. I consider jumping overboard. Either of these options seem preferable to me, yet I find myself moving to do as she bids. I wonder if she’s compelling me the way Carrick did before, but her request was so nice, I think not.

  She points to the chair adjacent to her and I sit hesitantly, perhaps not sure if I should still bolt.

  “Relax, Finley,” she croons, and something about her voice causes a rush of calmness to flow through me. “I’m not here to hurt you. Only to talk.”

  Slightly reassured, I settle in and place my clasped hands on the table. My body is so stiff with tension that I can feel a headache brewing at the base of my skull.

  Veda stares at me, taking me in. Finally, she says, “You’re as pretty as ever.”

  Which means she’s been spying on me. That raises my hackles, but she laughs and shakes her head. “I swear I haven’t.”

  My eyes flare, and I inhale sharply. “You can read my mind?”

  “I can,” she replies simply. “But if you ask me not to, I won’t.”

  “Please don’t,” I blurt out.

  She inclines her head. “As you wish.”

  Her gaze moves out over the water, across to Mount Rainier, which is starting to fade with dusk, and then back to me. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so lonely and isolated.”

  “You said you wouldn’t read my mind,” I accuse.

  “I won’t from here on out,” she says with a reassuring smile. “But I peeked in before I revealed myself to you.”

  Damn… that’s exactly what I’d been thinking before she appeared.

  And there’s no doubt in my mind that’s what she did… just appeared out of thin air. But I imagine there’s not anything a god can’t do.

  Or so I assume.

  “Why exactly are you here?” I ask, ignoring the sympathy she just extended me. “Because if Carrick asked you—”

  “He didn’t. I’m here of my own accord.”

  “Why?” I demand. “He said the gods aren’t going to help in the prophecy.”

  “And I won’t,” she says demurely. “I’m here to help you personally.”

  I’m immediately suspicious. While this god seems nice and all, I put her in the same category as Carrick.

  Untrustworthy.

  If what Carrick says is true, she had a hand in creating this prophecy, and put me on a path of doom.

  “I’m going to give you some advice,” Veda says, leaning an elbow on the armrest of her chair, which puts her slightly closer. I note she smells of jasmine and wood smoke, which is actually very pleasant. I brace, because I’m sure her advice is to talk me back into my place to help thwart the prophecy, but I have my denial on the tip of my tongue, ready to unleash.

  Instead, I about fall out of my chair when she says, “You should tell Myles and Rainey what is going on. You need support and friendship right now as you are going through the hardest thing you’ve ever endured.”

  I gape.

  “Harder than even when your dad died,” she continues softly. “Last night, you lost a sister, and now you’ve been told the fate of the world could rest partially on your shoulders. It’s a lot to ask any young woman to carry alone.”

  “You want me to tell Myles and Rainey?” I practically hiss, keeping my voice low just in case the sound carries. “They’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Yes,” she intones with empathy. “Given your mental history, that’s a probability.”

  Well, of course she knows about my mental history, I think drolly. She’s a god after all.

  “Then you know,” I reply sarcastically. “That’s just not a good option.”

  Veda gives me an understanding smile and holds her hand up slightly, turning her palm up toward the sky. Before my eyes, a small bottle materializes, and I can’t help but gasp.

  It’s nondescript, plain glass about three inches high and thin. It’s capped with what looks like an eyedropper. Inside is a bright pink liquid.

  Veda places it on the table before me. “These are special eye drops. They will temporarily allow humans to see daemons and fae. It doesn’t last long, maybe an hour, but if you want your friends to see the truth, you can use that. Just a drop in each eye will do.”

  My gaze moves from the bottle to her. I was sure my expression reflects not only the incredulity I feel, but also the distrust. “How do I know you’re not giving me something that will blind them permanently? Or kill them?”

  “You don’t,” she admits softly. “But it’s there if you want it. A tool that can help them see what you can see, so they will know you’re not crazy. From what I gather about them, they are both strong of character and can be great allies to you in these tough times.”

  I ignore the bottle a moment, as well as her suggestion to bring Rainey and Myles into my drama. “Why aren’t you trying to talk me into helping with the prophecy?”

  Veda shrugs. “That’s Carrick’s job.”

  Of course it is. He gets rewarded if I help stop it. There’s no avoiding the bitterness welling within me, followed by another wave of grief over what I’ve lost. Not only my sister, but also my normality.

  Tears start to prick at my eyes, but I don’t even bother to try to blink them back as I stare at the bottle on the table. In a small voice, I admit, “I don’t want to be a part of this. I’m scared.”

  I’m stunned when Veda’s hand reaches out to take mine and she squeezes it. Immediately, my grief evaporates. While I don’t feel euphoric, I feel more in charge of my emotions.

  Veda just eased my pain by whatever magic gods hold, but I guess that makes sense if she’s the god of Humanity.

  “I’m not going to tell you that you have to participate,” Veda says. “You have a choice. You can walk away, move as far from Seattle as you can, and hope beyond hope that something else will happen to divert the prophecy. But you need to know, chances are the prophecy will be fulfilled and you and your loved ones are going to be in great peril along with the rest of the world.”

  “I feel there’s an or,” I murmur.

  “Or,” she drawls with a smirk. “You can fight and try to change the course of the future. You can put your destiny in your own hands, and you’ll have some measure of control.”

  I hate she’s making sense, but ultimately, she’s said nothing that convinces me. Like she just said, perhaps something else will happen to stop the prophecy, and, let’s face it, it might not be as doom and gloom as we think.

  Veda’s smile lessens into one of understanding mixed with slight disappointment. “I can see I’m not making an impression, but the drops are there to use if you want to broaden your support system. Actually, it might also help protect them because, surely, you know you’re still in danger. Word will get around there’s a human with special powers to see beneath the veils. Their proximity to you could make them targets.”

  My stomach pitches. This was not something I had given much credence to, preferring to believe their ignorance would keep them safe. But guilt by association is a terrible thing.

  Veda stands from the chair, a clear indication she’s said all there is to say. Because she’s a god, I feel compelled to exhibit my best manners, so I stand as well. I’m not sure if I should curtsy, bow, or shake her hand.

  Apparently, none of the above as Veda steps in close to me, puts her hands on my shoulders, and gives me a fairy light kiss on each cheek. When she pulls back, her eyes, which are a beautiful silver-gray, laser onto mine. “One last piece of advice, and I don’t say this lightly. But you can trust Carrick. I promise he’ll protect you and always look out for your best interests.”

  “But he’s in it for the reward you’ll give him,” I say, my tone overly surly.

  “Is he now?” she replies with a laugh as she steps back. “You may be right, but you may be wrong. What I can tell you is that Carrick is someone who is a hundred times deserving of a reward, so I personally am not peeved about that being a carrot.”

  I frown, not sure if that makes me feel better or worse about him.

  Veda steps back, inclines her head, and smiles fondly. “Good luck, Finley. I wish you well.”

  I’m not sure if it’s for flourish or it’s just the way gods are, but she explodes into a bazillion fine sparkles almost smaller than dust in a ray of sunshine that quickly dissipates, leaving me alone out on the upper deck.

  For someone who just had a conversation with the god of Humanity who is older than time, I feel amazingly calm. Maybe it’s more of her magic she used on me. If so, I’ll allow myself to be grateful for that.

  I reach out, hesitating only slightly, before I grab the bottle of drops. I don’t think I can tell my friends what’s going on, but I pocket it all the same.

  CHAPTER 4

  Carrick

  They sat at an outdoor table on the patio of Carrick’s condo. It was overcast but, so far, no rain had fallen since the sun had risen. It was foggy across Puget Sound, and the Olympic Mountains were completely obscured, but it didn’t make the view before them any less beautiful.

  But none were paying attention. Breakfast had been served and finished over an hour ago, yet their conversation continued with a hot carafe of coffee sitting before them to replenish their mugs.

  Carrick had called this meeting so that a plan could be put into effect. It had been three days since Finley’s twenty-eighth birthday where Carrick and Finley both witnessed her sister transform before their very eyes into a Dark Fae.

  And Carrick had no doubt in his mind that Fallon was indeed dark. He’d seen the way Finley had reacted to the vibes her sister—well, former sister—was putting off, and it was almost harsh enough to drive her to her knees. Finley had said she’d never felt such evil in her life. While none had definitive proof the nature of her feelings matched up to whether a fae was light or dark. They’d seen enough correlation over the last few weeks to believe it was a reasonable assumption.