I don’t dare look back at Zaid as I know he somehow did that to me. Instead, I turn an accusing scowl on Carrick. “What the hell was that?”
Zaid gives an amused laugh and from the corner of my eye, I can see him making his way out of Carrick’s office. I hear a slight rasping sound and turn my head to see him backing out and closing pocket doors that were concealed in the walls. He’s giving us privacy, even though he’s well aware I’m an odd duck who has some abilities. He’s clearly not impressed with them, though, which is why I assume he left.
Whatever.
I’m not trying to impress him or Carrick.
Again, I ask, “What the hell was that?”
Once more, Carrick puts an elbow to the armrest and sets his chin in his palm, surveying me lazily. His amber eyes hold a slight fizzle of warmth. “Zaid’s glamour is exceptionally good. Normally just trying to pierce that veil wouldn’t cause you any pain, but Zaid was putting up extra defenses when you tried. Unfortunately, that can cause a small side effect.”
“Small side effect,” I grumble, dropping my hand from my head. “It felt like an ice pick was being shoved in my head.”
“And now you know there can be repercussions of trying to use your gift on someone who is wise to you doing so.”
My gift. That word again. More like a curse.
But I don’t want to talk about that right now. I need to understand what I’ve been seeing all these years. “You’ve called it a glamour, and you’ve also called it a veil. Are those the same things?”
“The terms are used interchangeably.”
“And what exactly is a glamour?” I think I know the answer, because I have some experience over the years with watching faces morph into something else, but I want to make sure I know all there is to know.
“It’s a form of magic to hide the way someone truly looks since, as you’ve no doubt encountered throughout your life, many of them have very inhuman appearances.”
As I thought. Not much more he’s offering.
“What would I have seen if I had been able to see past Zaid’s glamour?” I ask curiously.
“Zaid is a daemon like Marcus,” he informs me.
“So he’d have blue skin, crystal eyes, and horns?” I surmise in a murmur, giving a slight rub to my aching forehead.
Carrick shakes his head. “Daemon is more like a genus. Below that, there can be various species. Zaid and Marcus are not the same species.”
I forget my line of questioning as to what Zaid looks like for there’s something that strikes me as far more important to understand. “What exactly is a daemon?”
Carrick stares at me a long moment. I can tell he’s sizing me up, wondering just how much I’m going to be able to absorb, but he must decide I’m worthy because he uncrosses his legs and shifts slightly in his chair toward me. Leaning forward, he puts his elbows to his knees, hands hanging loose in between them. It’s the pose of a man getting ready to impart something serious and that I should pay attention. His eyes lock onto mine and for a moment, I get lost in their color. It strikes me that his eyes are unusual, just as mine are. The color seems to change given his mood and right now they are molten gold.
“Are you paying attention to me, Miss Porter?” Carrick says dryly, and I have to blink my eyes to dispel my errant thoughts.
“You could call me Finley,” I mutter, trying to hide my embarrassment.
“Pay attention, Finley,” he says with deliberate annunciation. “Because telling you about daemons is sort of starting at the end. To understand them, you need to understand the beginning.”
There’s an ominous but slightly epic tone, and I feel like someone getting ready to settle in for a good story. “The beginning of what?” I murmur.
“Well, that’s a relative term, isn’t it? But in this context, I mean the beginning of other creatures co-existing with humans.”
My eyes flare even though this shouldn’t exactly be a surprise. I mean, I’ve figured out enough to know that Marcus isn’t human—and supposedly Zaid is not—but hearing there’s a history to this whole bizarre story makes it more real to me when maybe part of me has been hoping this is but a dream.
Let’s face it… it’s just far easier to believe I’ve been hallucinating because of mental health issues, and I had managed to miraculously keep them at bay with my own hard work and determination.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly, because while believing I’m still crazy is easier, I’m now fairly sure it’s not the truth at all. “You have my undivided attention.”
Carrick stares at me a moment and again I can feel the weight of that look settling heavily on my face, particularly on my eyes. He called them odd, and they clearly hold his attention. But then his gaze moves to my hair, roving from the top down to the wavy strands, some of which lay over my shoulders.