A Battle of Blood and Stone

by Sawyer Bennett

  I try to focus on what Carrick is saying but I’ve heard his overprotective speech before, so I get distracted watching Maddox try to pull the stone off the cup.

  It’s when he pulls out a pocketknife with the clear intent to pry it off that Carrick stops in mid-tirade to me and turns around to Maddox with a snarl. “Don’t even think about it.”

  I have a feeling in all other times the two brothers have lived their thousands of years, Maddox doesn’t obey Carrick often. But in this case, he snaps the knife closed and sets the chalice back down. Nodding at it, he says, “That thing has some major power. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It almost feels…”

  “God-like,” Carrick finishes the sentence.

  That startles me, and my gaze snaps his way. “God-like as in the God?”

  Carrick shakes his head but it’s Maddox that answers. “No. As in the gods who sit on The Council. It has this sort of vibration that the gods give off.”

  I frown, thinking back to when I first met Veda and just most recently today with Cato. “I’ve never felt that.”

  Maddox shrugs. “Maybe something only the demi-gods can feel since they’re our creators. Or maybe we’re just more sensitive to magic and power, and there’s nothing more powerful than the five together.”

  I drag my eyes over to the chalice. “And you’re saying that thing feels like it has that type of power?”

  Neither brother answers, but it’s Carrick I shift my attention to. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Tucking his hands into the pockets of his track pants, he locks his eyes on mine. “I wasn’t sure if it was just me or not. I was waiting for Maddox or Lucien to take a look at it. But yeah… it’s powerful on a completely different level than regular stone magic. I understand now if Micah had been feeding off that thing why iron didn’t kill him right away.”

  “It could make someone truly invincible,” I muse aloud.

  “I would say the possibilities of what it could do are endless,” Carrick corrects.

  My mind starts to race with the possibilities as I remove my feet from the table and sit up straight. We could destroy Kymaris and all her demons. We could fortify veils where needed.

  Hell, we might even be able to shift reality or time. Could I go back and save Adira? My dad?

  Could we even prevent this all from happening by stopping the daemon that placed the changeling?

  “I know what you’re thinking, and you can just stop,” Carrick growls, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting in it. He takes my hands in his, then leans forward with the most serious expression I’ve ever seen on his face. “I know the Blood Stone can do big things. But its power gives even me a little pause, so we have to be careful. You can’t use it. It’s too much for you right now.”

  I nod in understanding. Of course I know that, and I will respect it.

  But still… when this is over…

  “What do we need to do to protect it?” Maddox asks, settling back in his chair. I’m assuming by picking the cup up, he probably knows exactly what Carrick has already done to ward it.

  Carrick doesn’t look away from me at first, still holding my gaze to make sure I understand the Blood Stone is far beyond my abilities to master or control. He needs my reassurance and since I’m actually in agreement that I have no business messing with something so powerful it gives a demi-god pause, I give him a smile of acceptance. “I understand, and I promise I’ll respect what you’re saying about it.”

  I seal that with a quick kiss. Carrick seems satisfied, but he doesn’t answer Maddox’s question. Instead, he reminds me that we still have an outstanding issue with Zora. “Since you’re in such an accepting mood, do you agree we should hold off reaching out to your twin?”

  My smile turns extra saccharine as I shake my head. “Sorry, babe… but this is one thing I’m not backing down on. I’m doing it with or without you.”

  Heaving a sigh that is far too exaggerated in my opinion, Carrick’s shoulders sag just a bit before he nods in capitulation. “Fine.”

  “Thank you,” I reply sweetly with a slight batting of my eyelashes for effect. “Let’s do it tomorrow night, and we’ll go shopping for wedding dresses on Saturday.”

  This time, Carrick groans at the reminder he’s going to be chaperoning Rainey and me while we hunt for the perfect dress. Twisting in his seat, Carrick looks at Maddox. “To answer your question, either you, me, or Lucien, when he returns, needs to be at the condo at all times with the chalice. I’ve committed to escorting Rainey and Finley to shop for a wedding dress Saturday, but if you’d like to take that duty, I’ll stay with the cup.”

  Maddox grimaces. “I’d rather battle every demon in the Underworld than do that.”

  I cover my mouth and dip my head to hide my laughter, knowing Carrick hates it all the more. He ignores me and says, “But let’s put up some extra fortifications both here and on the Fantasia.”

  “Agreed,” Maddox says, then the two men are talking spells and ancient magics that I know nothing about.

  I keep my ears open and listen intently, because… the more you know.

  You know?

  CHAPTER 20

  Finley

  There are times—admittedly few and far between—when I can forget about the perils facing me.

  Tonight—right now—is one of those times.

  The kitchen of Carrick’s condo has become our place for casual hangouts. We use the library for business.

  But in the kitchen with good food and typically good wine, we can let go of the horrors to come and just be ourselves. We can celebrate Maddox’s return to us just yesterday.

  It wasn’t always like that. I remember back to the days when Carrick was an asshole and Zaid hated me. Rainey and Myles were oblivious.

  And now, I look around at this group and this seems normal.

  It seems like home.

  Like family.

  Zaid is at his usual post, finishing up our dinner. While I no longer see his glamour but rather his real daemon face, I don’t see him as different from me.

  Rather, I see him as a partner, friend, and, yes, a family member, although he’d probably never admit the same about me.

  Tonight, we’re having fajitas, and the entire island is filled with spicy seared steak and chicken as well as bowls of fillers like onions, peppers, three different types of cheese, salsa, sour cream, and guacamole. He even set out both corn and flour tortillas.

  Maddox is at the end of the curved island, a seat he claimed early on when he joined us. The four stools opposite Zaid down the island’s length are comprised of Myles, Rainey, Carrick, and me.

  The obvious members we are missing, and not just in a physical sense, are Titus and Lucien.

  The other member missing is Boral because while he is fully on the team, he’s so disliked by everyone he wasn’t invited. I don’t spend too much time stressing over that being rude, though, because Boral probably wouldn’t have come. He’s been taking his role in providing crucial information on Kymaris to us very seriously and has remained by Kaesar’s side.

  Boral had even mentioned they’d been bonding over old memories and good times, and I was afraid it had meant they were engaging in Boral’s favorite past time of mayhem and murder. I try not to think about it though, and instead focus on the good right here in this kitchen.

  Zaid pulls out the piece de resistance—a huge pitcher of margaritas—and starts filling salt-rimmed glasses as he orders, “Dig in.”

  For the next few minutes, there’s no conversation. No bowls are passed either, each of us leaning forward, left and right, to reach the various fixings to assemble our fajitas. I perch on my stool, standing and stretching Maddox’s way, trying to ignore Carrick when he slips his hand in between my legs at my calf and starts a slow slide up.

  Fortunately, no one can see. When his hand reaches my actual knee, I slam them shut and sit back down. Pulling his hand free, he laughs and steals a chicken fajita off my plate.r />
  I turn down a proffered margarita from Zaid. After dinner tonight, Carrick has promised he’ll let me reach out to Zora and I want to be clear-headed.

  When the plates are loaded, conversation kicks back up in between bites of food. The clear runner for best conversation of topic is the wedding since Rainey and I chatter on about it and they have no choice but to listen. Tomorrow we have a full day planned of dress shopping, cake tasting, and a fancy lunch down near the water.

  Carrick remains conspicuously quiet about his wedding duties, but Maddox can’t resist teasing Myles a little. “Dude… why bother buying when you’re already getting the goods for free?”

  There was a time when Myles would get mad or offended by such a thing, particularly from Maddox, who to this day still shamelessly flirts with Rainey. But the Myles sitting with a half-eaten fajita in his hand merely shakes his head with a knowing smile. “I’d try to explain it to you, but you’d never understand it… dude.”

  Me and Rainey turn our heads toward each other, smiling at the little slap down to Maddox that was loaded with a lot of love for my bestie.

  “But I think there’s someone who understands,” Myles continues, then leans forward on his stool to look past Rainey and me to Carrick.

  Carrick, as sexy as he can be in any situation, is bent over his plate, mouth wide open and about to take a huge bite of the chicken fajita he stole from me.

  Everyone is silent, which causes Carrick to lift his head and glance around, eyes finally landing on Myles, who was the last that spoke, his insinuation—which would be accurate—being that Carrick would understand about that type of love.

  But I can tell Carrick was only half paying attention. It’s not often I see the big guy slightly embarrassed before he admits, “Sorry… what did you say?”

  “You’re someone who understands about love and committing to one woman,” Myles says.

  Not taking away from his manliness at all, Carrick’s smile actually goes a little soft, his gaze flicking to mine. “Yeah… I do.”

  Thinking that was the end of a brief but sweet conversation about true love, Carrick turns his attention back to his fajita.

  But Myles isn’t done apparently. “As such,” he drawls, waiting for Carrick to look at him again. “I would like to formally request that you be my best man at the wedding, not only because it makes sense since Finley is the maid of honor, but also because you are understanding and I would like you by my side.”

  Holy cow. I’m not prepared for the emotion that overwhelms me that Myles would select Carrick because he admires—of all things—his heart.

  Carrick is clearly stunned as evidenced by the few scant seconds he doesn’t say anything before finally saying in a gruff voice, “Yeah… man. I’d be glad to stand up there with you.”

  “Aww.” I lean over and loop my arm into Carrick’s, causing him to lose purchase on the fajita. It lands on his plate, but I ignore it, leaning my head on his shoulder and patting his chest. “You’re the sweetest ever.”

  “Whatever,” Carrick mutters, pulling free so he can piece his fajita back together. “I know Myles was just waiting to ask me when all of you were around so I couldn’t decline.”

  “That’s actually a true statement,” Myles admits with a firm nod of his head. Then he grins at Carrick. “But I actually do want you to be the one up there with me.”

  This devolves into Maddox teasing Carrick about tuxedo shopping and an offering to throw a bachelor party, to which Rainey and I both exclaim, “No!”

  Myles asks Maddox just for posterity, “What exactly did you have in mind for a bachelor party?”

  Maddox claps Myles on the shoulder—a little too hard, which causes his fajita to go tumbling to his plate—and winks. “Ever see the movie The Hangover?”

  This devolves into a weird bonding moment between Maddox and Myles, who apparently both rate The Hangover in one of their top three films, which actually makes me a bit embarrassed to admit they’re my friends.

  My phone starts ringing, and I glance down to see Boral’s name and number on my screen. He’d taken to contacting me with any information because, in his words, “I’m the nicest to talk to.”

  Not that politeness matters to a Dark Fae who includes rape, pillaging, and serial killing in his list of hobbies, but I get what he’s saying.

  I’m the only one giving him a true chance.

  “Hold up, guys,” I say above Maddox cackling over something Myles says. “It’s Boral, and he probably has an update.”

  It immediately goes silent and I connect the call, putting it on speakerphone. “Hey… you’re on speaker and everyone is here.”

  It’s a subtle warning to not say anything he doesn’t want any of the others to hear. Not that he would hide information about the prophecy from them, but he might go off on how much disdain he has for Carrick or how much he longs for a chance with his son, which would be totally awkward for everyone.

  “Good,” Boral replies. “I’ve got some important stuff for you to hear.”

  I rest the phone on the center of the island as my eyes lift to Zaid’s, which hold the usual amount of suspicion against his father within them. Everyone hunches in a bit closer to listen.

  And just like that, our family gathering where we were celebrating food and true love turns to business.

  “I’ve got some news on the twelfth front,” he says, referring to the twelfth Dark Fae original that Kymaris has been trying to add to her collection for the ritual. “She can’t find a twelfth, despite trying the same summoning ritual that you had witnessed her doing and sending her daemons out all over the world.”

  “Why isn’t it working?” I ask, intrigued by the possibility she’s getting weaker somehow.

  “Word is out among our kind that she summoned Dark Fae to her by killing offspring. For those who sired daemons, it’s not sitting well she’s murdering children. For those without, it’s not sitting well she’s killing to force the original fallen back to her side. You have to remember, most Dark Fae who have escaped the Underworld don’t want anything to do with the possibility of going back or helping Kymaris. She wasn’t exactly a benevolent ruler. My assumption is that they’ve gone into deep hiding, possibly in other realms, or they’ve got some solid protection spells in place she can’t break. Regardless, she’s been frustrated.”

  “This is great news,” I exclaim, happy Boral might be proving his worth.

  “Not necessarily,” he says grimly, and my elation deflates. “Kaesar said she’s giving up trying to find one here. Apparently, her backup plan is to just summon a Dark Fae from the Underworld to serve as the twelfth.”

  “Well, shit,” I mutter realizing she has one of the last of the two ingredients she needs for the ritual. Now, she’ll turn her sights solely on the Blood Stone.

  “But why not just bring twelve original Dark Fae with her from the Underworld?” Rainey asks Boral. “Or summon those twelve when she got here. Why bother with the time and energy to search for them?”

  “The pickings are a bit slim,” Boral replies, explaining something to Rainey that Carrick had explained to me long ago. “There were not a lot of original fallen on either the dark or the light side. It was a handful of rebellious angels. A good chunk escaped the Underworld in summonings with stone magic and were glad of it. The ones left behind, though, are loyalists and most likely were left behind to rule in her stead until she could bring the veil down.”

  “That makes sense,” Rainey breathes regretfully.

  “But I have a better theory,” Boral says. Although I can’t see him, I can envision the sly expression on his face.

  “And what’s that?” I ask.

  “That the ones who are in hiding are hiding for a very good reason that has nothing to do with not wanting to be under her rule.”

  “Which is?” I prompt.

  “That the twelve she’s mustering aren’t going to be given the kingdom of riches they’ve been promised.”

 
“What makes you think that?” Carrick asks.

  “Call it gut instinct,” Boral replies confidently. “Kaesar is going on and on about all the things Kymaris has promised him for his part in the ritual. It sounds too good to be true.”

  “You think she’s going to kill the twelve as part of the ritual?” Maddox asks for clarification.

  Boral laughs in response. “Why would you even question it? She killed those daemons to force those original eight to her side. Besides that, she has no love lost for those who escaped and didn’t return. The ones who helped her escape through the changeling ritual and were left behind are the ones who are going to get the spoils when they come through.”

  “That’s a lot of conjecture,” Carrick muses.

  “It would definitely explain why she just didn’t bring twelve with her, though,” Boral counters. “Or why she didn’t summon twelve from the Underworld when she got here. She clearly has the power.”

  This is making sense to me. “They’re sacrifices, not conduits. Sacrifices fuel magic. And now she’s having to resort to using one of her loyalists left behind. It’s why she’s waited so close to the ritual date before making that decision.”

  Boral doesn’t respond at first, but then adds another ominous consideration. “While Kaesar hasn’t reported anything new on the search for the Blood Stone, the fact she’s going to pull one of her own from the Underworld might indicate she’s confident she’ll get it.”

  Carrick stiffens, leaning closer to the phone to growl. “Is there any indication she knows we have it?”

  “None,” Boral replies quickly. “At least Kaesar hasn’t mentioned it, but I’m careful to not ask direct questions so he’s not suspicious. It’s a good thing he loves talking about this, and he loves to hear himself talk. I think if he knew something, he would have told me. Still, she doesn’t have the missing twelfth to look for anymore, so she has nothing but time to find the Blood Stone.”

  “Anything else to report?” Zaid asks tersely, which is a bit of a surprise. He rarely says anything to his father if he can help it.