A Battle of Blood and Stone, Page 4

  As usual, he lounged on a purple velour-covered chaise with a table to the side filled with foods that admittedly made Carrick’s belly rumble slightly but otherwise were of no consequence.

  There was something different about this evening’s visit from Rune. The blue-haired, mohawked god was wearing a silk lounging robe open at the chest, revealing his muscular form. Sitting on open areas of the chaise with their limbs draped over one another were three naked women.

  Carrick had no clue their purpose, and he didn’t care. He just wanted his lashes and for Rune to leave. Once he did, Carrick would be one day closer to Rune getting sick of this little game since Carrick refused to play the victim.

  “Twenty,” the masked jailer grunted. Carrick could hear the whip unfurl behind him and hit the ground.

  So as to show no fear and complete nonchalance for what was about to happen, Carrick made sure his eyes stayed pinned on Rune for the duration. He kept a benign smile on his face, and while he could not help his body jerking each time the whip bit into his back, he never made a sound. The pain was excruciating, but Carrick’s mind and willpower were far stronger than Rune would ever give him credit for.

  Sadly, Carrick knew if he’d just show pain or humiliation or even beg to be let go, Rune would do it. That was all he wanted, but no matter how badly Carrick wanted to get back to Finley, he was never going to let Rune win against him.

  The whip hissed and cracked, the sound of flesh tearing audible. Rune merely stuffed some sort of skewered meat into his mouth, chewing while smiling at Carrick’s punishment. But with each lash and not much of a reaction from Carrick, the maliciousness in Rune’s expression became keen.

  When the last strike was done, Carrick could feel the blood trickling in rivulets down his back. It felt like he was on fire, but he also knew the cuts would soon start knitting, and, before long, he’d be healed.

  The fae unshackled Carrick’s bonds. Without a word to Rune, he turned for his cell.

  “Halt,” Rune commanded imperiously. With a low sigh, Carrick turned to face the bratty god of Life with a cocked eyebrow.

  “I’ve brought you a gift.” Rune motioned his hand out to the side with a gleam in his eye, and a bathtub filled with steaming water appeared. Carrick had not been allowed such decency since being trapped here.

  Carrick was suspicious. Rune didn’t offer gifts, especially given the level of hate he bore for him.

  At a clap of Rune’s hands, the naked women jumped off the chaise and ran giggling over to the bathtub. One suggestively ran her hand through the water before lifting a wet finger to her mouth.

  Carrick’s gaze went back to Rune.

  With a solicitous nod, he grinned. “They’ll help bathe you.”

  “Not interested,” Carrick muttered and turned away once again.

  “You’re turning down my offer of a hot bath with three gorgeous women who are willing to do anything you want?” Rune asked, but by the taunting tone of his voice, he knew Carrick would never accept.

  “Yup,” was all Carrick replied. He didn’t need to explain himself.

  “So loyal to your little Finley,” Rune cooed out. “She’d never know if you wanted to indulge.”

  “Not interested in the slightest.” Carrick turned back to face Rune so he could see the determination in his expression. He wasn’t going to play this game with him either.

  Rune studied him a moment, tapping his finger against his chin. “All you have to do is beg me to release you, and I will.”

  “I’ll pass,” Carrick replied flippantly.

  “Your girl is in danger,” Rune taunted, and Carrick’s body locked tight. “Had a nasty fight with a wraith last week. Your brother Maddox lets her run all over the place, and he certainly doesn’t look after her the way you would.”

  Carrick’s jaw locked hard as he digested that, but again, he would never show Rune his concern. He finally managed a calm smile as he shrugged. “Finley’s strong on her own. Besides that, I expect she’ll be fine since she’s the key to the prophecy. I highly doubt she’s meant to be taken down by one of your dusty-clothed ghosts.”

  “Is she strong enough to take on Kymaris?” Rune drawled in amusement. “Because she’s the one who has to do it, you know?”

  Carrick couldn’t ignore that. The gods had been very vague on what part Finley will play in the prophecy, and Arwen had only vaguely said she’d bear great sacrifice. It all sounded ominous, but Carrick had been lulled into believing that vanquishing Kymaris would be a group effort. This was the first time anyone said that the battle would be between Finley and Kymaris alone, and it terrified him.

  “Ahh,” Rune murmurs with a sly grin. “I see I have your attention now.”

  “You’re saying Finley will fight Kymaris?” Carrick asked for clarification.

  “I’m saying only Finley can stop her,” Rune replied with a careless shrug. “How you interpret that is up to you.”

  It was clear Rune wasn’t going to offer anything clearer than that, but Carrick was grateful for that information. It meant he had a lot of work ahead of him to get Finley ready for this. Time was running short, and she still hadn’t figured out how to use her powers.

  Carrick turned away from Rune. When he reached his cell, he grabbed onto the metal bars and pulled the swinging door open. He intended to enter, lay down, face the wall, and give Rune his back, which he knew would infuriate the god.

  Instead, a crack of thunder rent the air, causing Carrick to wheel around to face whatever wrath Rune was going to level at him. Carrick came to a halt in a semi-crouched fighting stance.

  But Rune was still on the chaise, his eyes wide with astonishment as he took in Onyx in full battle armor. The god of War was a beautiful vision despite the warrior vibe she radiated. Like Rune, she wore her magenta-pink hair in a mohawk, but it was much longer and stood in a flowing wave from her crown to the back of her neck.

  She glared at Rune, merely spitting out one word, “Enough.”

  Rune pushed up from the chaise, giving his fellow god an incredulous look. “Enough?”

  “Yes,” Onyx replied. “You’ve had enough fun with Carrick, and we let you have it. But enough is enough. We allowed him to take part in this prophecy so he could have the chance to ascend. It was a deal that was made, so he must be given that opportunity.”

  “You can’t tell me when enough is enough,” Rune sneered. He was the one always at odds with his brethren—the most spoiled, the most entitled, and simply the biggest asshole.

  Given Rune could kill Carrick with a mere snap of his fingers, it was certainly foolish for Carrick to enter the discussion. “Why such animosity, Rune? Why isn’t your curse enough?”

  Rune turned from Onyx to face Carrick, rage morphing his face into a hideous mask. “Because I don’t like seeing you happy. You deserve every bad thing that could ever happen to you.”

  And with that, Carrick tipped his head back and laughed deep from his belly. When he brought his gaze back to Rune, he shook his head in pity. “Get the fuck over it. It’s been centuries, you candy-assed priss pot. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t even mope this way when you killed Finley over and over again.”

  Which was a lie. Every time Finley died in her past lives, Carrick was devastated, but he would never let Rune know that.

  “Another thirty lashes,” Rune barked at the jailer.

  “No,” Onyx murmured, but her tone was as hard as steel. “Collectively, the rest of your brothers and sisters demand he be released. He’s had enough.”

  She was talking about the three other gods in addition to her. Circe, the god of Fate, Veda, the god of Humanity, and Cato, the god of Nature. They operated simply by majority rules for most things, unanimity required for the important ones like Ascension.

  Rune was livid over this proclamation, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t strong enough to fight them on this, and they would fight him if he didn’t come back into line.

  “Fine,” Rune
snarled, giving a rolling wave of his hand above his head. The chaise, food, bathtub, and women disappeared, as did the masked jailer. “I’ve got better things to do anyway.”

  And with that, he vanished.

  “Such an asshole,” Onyx murmured under her breath as she walked over to Carrick. Before he could even thank her, she had him by the wrist and flashing out of this faux Hell of a place.

  In a blink, they stood in what appeared to be a massively opulent foyer of what Carrick would peg as an Italian villa. He assumed Onyx owned it.

  “I need to get to Finley,” was the first thing Carrick said.

  “Agreed,” Onyx said as she lifted her chin toward the spiral staircase. “But you stink of more things than I can even describe, and your wounds need to heal. Finley does not need to see you this way, so go get bathed and you can return to her.”

  Onyx had an incredibly good point. In a million years and through a thousand more lifetimes, Carrick would never let Finley know what Rune had him doing these past few weeks. She didn’t need that burden on her already-laden shoulders.

  At some point, though, he would have to tell her what Rune said about her going up against Kymaris.

  With no harm in asking, Carrick tipped his head to Onyx. “Rune said Finley would be the one to stop Kymaris, implying she was the only one. Is this true?”

  Onyx seemed reluctant to answer, but she was the one who most often held true and fast to the rules, particularly when it came to not interfering once things were in place. Her expression was grim when she nodded. “It’s her burden alone to take Kymaris down. I hope she’s ready.”

  Fuck.

  She truly wasn’t. They had work to do.

  Bending in a slight bow, Carrick said, “Thank you, Onyx.”

  Onyx gave a slight bend back with a tiny smile. “Good luck to you and Finley. You’ll need it.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Finley

  Time is ticking, and I’m feeling the pressure. As of yesterday, Carrick has been gone three weeks and I’ve lost hope he’s coming back.

  Maddox tells me to keep the faith. He had it on authority from Cato—the god he was closest to—that Carrick would return. But while I trust Maddox, I sure as hell don’t trust the gods. It’s their vanity and their need to play their silly games that have me in the mess I’m in.

  The October new moon is creeping closer, just about a month away, and we have no clue how to defend against Kymaris. We might know what day the ritual will occur, but we have no clue what time or where. We don’t have the Blood Stone, nor any idea how to get it.

  I can’t even tap my powers, so what kind of savior of the world does that make me?

  Maddox walks into the kitchen, officially convening the start of this little meeting I called with him and Zaid. We have decisions that have to be made, and we can’t wait for Carrick to come back and lead us.

  “Isn’t Boral due to check-in today?” Maddox asks as he heads to the refrigerator and pulls out a beer. Zaid leans against the back counter, legs crossed casually with a cup of coffee in his hand.

  I’ve also got a cup of coffee because it’s still morning time and I roll my eyes at Maddox as he turns my way, beer in hand.

  “What?” he asks innocently. “I feel like a beer.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter, then nod toward a stool. “And to answer your question, yes… Boral should be here in a little bit for a progress report.”

  Zaid scoffs, still making it clear he is not on board with having his father working with us. He’s entitled to feel that way, but I think Boral is our best asset right now. He’s hanging around with Kaesar, one of the original fallen Dark Fae, and sometimes gets invitations to Kymaris’ house. In my opinion, he’s crucial.

  Unfortunately, since the wraith incident, Maddox and Zaid distrust him even more.

  “No one has shown up at Marianna’s house,” Maddox reports as he twists the cap off the bottle, placing it on the counter.

  Zaid, who can’t stand anything disorderly in his kitchen, swoops in and nabs it. He throws it in the garbage can with a side glare at Maddox.

  “If no one has shown up at the house,” I conclude with a pointed look, “then Boral’s not telling our secrets to Kymaris.”

  Zaid and Maddox exchange a look, a clear indication they will always be dubious when it comes to the Dark Fae who has planted himself within Kymaris’ circle.

  We decided to enact a plan to test Boral to see if he’s playing us. Since bringing him on board the day he told us about the ritual occurring on the October new moon, the information we’ve shared with him has been limited. He has absolutely no idea what my part is in the prophecy, that I have powers, or a twin in the Underworld. With him knowing so little, it was easy enough to fabricate a lie to see if it would make its way back to Kymaris. But we had to feed him the bait in a believable way.

  Operation Test Boral went into effect four days ago.

  Zaid’s father was set to come by to give us an update since he’d started hanging out with Kaesar, which included a few parties at Kymaris’ house.

  At any rate, before Boral came to the condo, we staged the kitchen with a scattering of our yellow pads with scribbled notes and a few old books as if we’d been doing research. When Boral walked into the kitchen, Maddox and I were huddled over a book, murmuring in urgent but low voices.

  We greeted him as usual. As he walked up to the kitchen island, I chatted amiably with him since I’m the only one who ever bothers doing so. He took a seat right in front of a yellow pad as I talked to him about the Underworld—one of my favorite subjects as I continued to work on a plan to save Zora. His gaze went down to the pad and when it did, I acted a little disconcerted it was sitting there. I made a big deal out of swiping it away from him so he couldn’t see what was on it, but I’m positive he saw the address I’d written on there in black sharpie along with the word “fallen” next to it.

  Of course, it was a plant and the address was that of Maddox’s lady friend who has a mansion on the city’s outskirts. It was where we’d spent the night after capturing the incubus for information.

  Turns out, Maddox’s lady friend is a Dark Fae, but she’s not a fallen. She’s also not in residence, but in Aruba, so it was a safe location to drop as bait to Boral. If he worked for Kymaris, the information would spur her to send someone to check it out. Maddox has been there the last four days, and, as he’s just reported, no one has come sniffing around.

  And that is enough to confirm that we can trust Boral—to me, anyway.

  Well, at least as much as a Dark Fae can be trusted, but it’s clear to me his loyalties are in helping his son over Kymaris.

  Of course, my compatriots are not as easily swayed.

  “Big deal no one has come yet,” Zaid grumbles as he empties his coffee in the island sink and then rinses it. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t give her the information. Maybe he didn’t even see the information.”

  “Oh, he saw it,” Maddox confirms. He’d been watching carefully as Boral zeroed in on it before I snatched the yellow pad away.

  Zaid grimaces. “Again, that proves nothing. I say we can’t trust him, and we should ban him from coming around.”

  Zaid wants him gone, but I want to bring him fully on board. He’s our best chance at finding out more details about when and where the ritual will occur. It’s a gut feeling I have—that he’s important to our mission—but it’s going to take a lot more to convince these guys.

  Which I don’t have the time to do right this moment.

  “Forget about Boral,” I say to the two men, who now focus on me. “He can be important later down the line, but, right now, we are dead in the water. We know nothing more than we did three weeks ago when we learned about the ritual occurring on the October new moon.”

  Except that Carrick is apparently my eternal lover, but not going there.

  “I have a suggestion,” I say, ensuring my voice is strong and confident. “I want to reach out to Zora again.”
>
  “Nope,” Maddox says while Zaid shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  I narrow my eyes, moving them between the demi-god and daemon. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

  “True,” Maddox says with a lopsided grin. “But I’m going to remind you that we have bigger priorities right now. We have to find the demi-god who wrote the Libri Mysteria.”

  “We’ve been trying.” I wince at the whining tone of my voice. “Nothing’s working.”

  “What about reaching out to that guy Carrick talked to at the party,” Zaid suggests. “What was his name… Wells?”

  For a moment, Maddox and I just blink, then I exclaim, “That’s actually a great idea. He mentioned being able to get information about the chalice.”

  Although he wanted millions of dollars for that information, and I don’t have that at my disposal.

  “I suppose I could appeal to the gods again,” Maddox suggests half-heartedly. But we all know that would be a dead end. They are not going to help us in that respect as he’d already asked once when he was inquiring about Carrick and had been turned down.

  “So really, we’re back to reaching out to contacts and researching in Carrick’s library,” Zaid concluded.

  An idea strikes. I know it’s asinine, but I still throw it out there. “I could just go hand myself over to Kymaris.”

  Zaid’s eyeballs about bug out of his head, and Maddox growls, “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “Just pointing out that reaching out to Zora isn’t the most dangerous thing I can do,” I quip, but then tone myself down. “But seriously… if I’m destined to somehow go head-to-head with Kymaris, why not just do it? If I go do it, isn’t that what I’m fated to do?”

  “And you’re going to what… defeat her with your whip skills? Your little bubble shield?” Zaid sneers.

  “Maybe,” I say suggestively, ignoring his taunts. “Maybe I need to face Kymaris to tap my powers. Maybe they’ll come to me when I face off with her.”