Joining Carrick to his left was Zaid, his longtime trusted and loyal friend. Zaid was a daemon, the offspring of a union between a Light and Dark Fae. His mother was light, a gentle and timid soul, but his father was as dark as pitch and as malevolent as they come. Daemons tend to take after one parent or the other, but Zaid had often straddled the line.

  To Carrick’s right was another friend, this one entirely human. Titus was an annihilator, a well-trained brand of warrior who hunted the fae and daemons that were acting on their evil impulses. He lived primarily in an alternate dimension called Semper Terra, but traveled the world helping to protect an unsuspecting society against the danger of dark daemons and fae. He had come to Seattle almost a month ago to train Finley how to appropriately defend herself or launch an aggressive physical attack, if need be.

  This was important because once word got out that Finely—a mere human—had abilities to see beneath the glamours that concealed the very existence of fae and daemon alike, she would become a target. The Light Fae would want to use her to help hunt Dark Fae, because same as annihilators, they couldn’t abide the evil creatures that had slipped through small tears in the veil that separated earth from the Underworld. They didn’t do this out of any loyalty to humans, but rather to protect their own realm of Faere. The Dark Fae would merely like to kill her because she could identify them. They were the main threat she faced.

  Now, it might just be her biggest threat is her sister Fallon.

  For now, things were stacking up to be problematic. The Council of five gods announced there was a prophecy of doom coming that would put earth at great peril. It was vague as all prophecies are, but Carrick became embroiled when the god Rune offered him a chance to gain Ascension if he helped thwart the prophecy.

  But Ascension wasn’t something Carrick was focused on at this point. His concerns were how to get Finley on board with accepting her fate, that she is an integral part in stopping the coming darkness. He’d worry about his reward later.

  Carrick wasn’t bothered by her reaction when she left. Her denial was fueled by fear and mistrust. He let her walk out of his condo, knowing she probably needed some time to process everything.

  “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.

  “Perfect,” Fallon replied. “See you then.”

  After disconnecting from the call, Carrick, Zaid, and Titus talked for another thirty minutes, discussing ways to learn more about what the prophecy could be. Zaid had the most connections since he had contacts on both the light and dark side of the fae and daemon societies. Titus was a hunter of Dark Fae and their daemon offspring, so he wasn’t as in touch. Regardless, he insisted on staying in the earthly realm for a while to help Carrick and Finley as best he could.

  When it was time to head to the gallery, Zaid called down for Carrick’s car and within five minutes, he was across Belltown. When the driver opened his door, he darted through the light rain that had started to fall and opened the door to the art gallery, which was titled simply, Fallon’s.

  Carrick was greeted by a man who he assumed was Fallon’s assistant as he introduced himself as Peter Carpenter. He presented as a sniveling ass kisser of a man on the shorter side of short, profusely welcoming Carrick into the gallery. He did so even bowing slightly as he talked.

  Carrick saw through his charade, though, easily looking past the glamour Peter wore. He was a daemon with a very dark aura.

  When he left to get Fallon, Carrick wandered the gallery, pondering some pieces he found quite to his liking. He passed a worker who was on a ladder adjusting a massive wall piece and was able to pierce his veil easily to see he was a dark daemon as well. This seemed to indicate that Fallon was pulling dark creatures in close to her. She wasted no time as her change had occurred only three days ago. Fallon was surrounding herself with minions of her ilk.

  “Carrick.” At the sound of Fallon’s voice, Carrick pivoted to face her. Without a twitch to his bland expression, he took in the other changes to this new Fallon besides what he’d heard on the phone.

  She strode toward him in an outfit that he found to be too overtly sexual for a business owner of a highly reputable art gallery. It consisted of a short black miniskirt with a sheer, white blouse tucked in at the waist with several of the top buttons undone. Under the blouse, she had on a black bra, which stood out starkly.

  That wasn’t the only change to her outward human appearance. The Fallon that was Finley’s sister was posh and elegant. Her hair was sleekly designed, her makeup subtle and tasteful. She dressed in high-end couture that was business chic. She walked gracefully, and her expression was always warm.

  This Fallon—this dark creature—was shockingly different. Her normally glossy-brown hair, worn just above her shoulders, was now streaked with chunks of blond and curled into tight coils that seemed to spring out in a halo effect around her. It was neither fashionable nor trendy. Her makeup was heavy and garish. As she came closer to Carrick, her stride was almost predatory, as was her gaze upon him.

  If any of Finley’s sister was left inside, she was buried down very deep.

  Willing her glamour to disappear, Carrick took in Fallon’s true appearance. He couldn’t tell her species, but that was like having the ability to know every species of insect on the planet.

  Her appearance was the same as it was the other night after she changed. Maybe the angles on her face had become a little sharper, but she had the same pale skin and hair, eyes leeched of almost all color except the black pupil was larger than a human’s. If you took in the near perfectness of her facial features outside of the oddities, she could be considered weirdly beautiful. While not the most horrid creature in the world, he knew this Dark Fae had to have been terrifying to Finley.

  “I’m so pleased you came to see me,” the Dark Fae purred as she walked right up to Carrick, placed a hand on his chest, and went to her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

  Carrick wasn’t moved one way or the other. He merely smiled as she drew back, then inclined his head. “Thank you for taking the time to show me around your gallery. I hope you’re feeling better.”

  Fallon frowned briefly as if his words made no sense, before understanding dawned. “Ah… you mean my birthday party. Yes, I’m completely fine now. Thank you for asking.”

  Her words were robotic as if the concept of small chitchat and basic manners were foreign to her. It probably was.

  “Have you talked to Finley lately?” Carrick asked conversationally. “She wasn’t feeling well that night either.”

  Carefully, he studied her expression, wanting to see how she reacted to the mention of her sister. Fallon’s upper lip curled ever so slightly, but she managed a neutral tone. “I haven’t, but she has good friends to keep an eye on her. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Carrick said nothing, merely stared at Fallon to push her to say more.

  “We’re not that close, actually,” Fallon said with a dismissive laugh. “You know… sister rivalry and all that.”

  The lie was obvious as Carrick knew there was no rivalry between the sisters, and while it was true they weren’t overly close, they did care for each other. The real Fallon would have been concerned Finley was sick.

  What this confirmed to Carrick was Fallon believed her sister to be irrelevant to whatever purpose she had here on earth, and that relieved him.

  “Enough talk of sisters,” Fallon said with a wave of her hand. She turned, moved into Carrick’s side, and looped her arm through his. “Come, let me show you around the gallery.”

  Carrick played the part of interested buyer well, and he didn’t attempt to dissuade the way Dark Fae Fallon clung to him. He didn’t discourage her when she described the message within a piece of art using sexual innuendo.

  Of course, he gave her nothing in return to suggest he was interested in anything more than a painting or sculpture. Rather, Carrick focused his attention on her mannerisms, her figures of speech, and how she spoke about others. It was clear to him that she was not doing a particularly good job in keeping the real Fallon as a good cover for her. He had to wonder what her fiancé Blain thought of these changes.

  Only because he really did love it, Carrick actually decided on an abstract horizon painting done in indigo and gray that would look great behind his desk. It was his way of exiting out of this meeting by making a purchase and breaking her hold on him.

  But before she was willing to unhook her arm from his, she turned in closer. Once again, she laid her hand on his chest.

  Tipping her head back, she whispered, “If you don’t have to rush out, I can show you a private collection in my office. We could… get to know each other better.”

  Carrick wasn’t a man who was easily repulsed, so he wasn’t fazed. He was, however, curious as to how she would handle rejection.

  Taking her wrist in his hand, he gently pulled it off his chest. “Tempting offer, but I’m wondering what your fiancé would have to say about us getting to know each other better?”

  Clearly, she was a creature that didn’t like being told “no” because her pupils went from black to flame red.

  But she didn’t know Carrick could see her true self, so Fallon pursed her glamoured human lips and pouted. “I imagine what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  Carrick was done with Dark Fae Fallon. He gave her a tight smile, told her to set the painting aside, and he’d send someone by with a check to pick it up.

  “Thank you for your time,” he said politely, giving a slight bow of his head.

  He was graced with a half-smile from the glamoured visage, but the thin lips of her fae face were pressed flat and her red pupiled eyes were filled with malice for being shot down.

  As he walked out of the art gallery, Carrick had concluded a few things.

  Fallon was already surrounding herself with other dark daemons, indicating she was up to something as they tended to be solitary by nature. He felt reasonably sure Finley’s sister was gone, and he loathed having to break that news to her.

  More importantly, he felt confident this Dark Fae was incredibly dangerous. While she didn’t seem overly interested in Finley, if word ever filtered to her that Finley had special abilities, he had no doubt Fallon would kill her.

  It was imperative Finley come back into his fold so she could be adequately protected.

  CHAPTER 5

  Finley

  Mondays at One Bean are always a little hectic, being the start of a new business week. Except I’m not at One Bean. I’m sitting on the Fantasia at the kitchen table where I can periodically look out the large windows at the Fremont Bridge.