Sighing, I follow and when Carrick and I reach them, Maddox makes short introductions. Echo eyeballs me up and down, but Maddox has clearly filled her in on a few things.
“So, you can break through glamours, huh?” she asks almost petulantly.
Oddly, her daemon visage doesn’t bother me and I’m not sure what it says about me that I’ve grown used to this in just a few weeks. “Yeah… I can sense daemons and fae, then I can see past their glamours.”
“And you’re human?” Her tone is decidedly suspicious.
“As far as I know,” I reply glibly.
“Just get on with it,” Carrick growls, and Echo jumps. I shoot him a glare for being overly high handed, grouchy, and just a plain asshat right now.
“Go on, Echo,” Maddox says gently.
“Okay,” she says, holding her hands out to me, palm up. The gray color of her skin is darkened further with dirt, and I’m fascinated that her daemon nails are chewed down to the nubs the same as her glamoured ones. I try not to grimace when I think she was just chewing on some of those fingers.
Tentatively, I put my palm down against hers and she curls her fingers tight around mine. Closing her eyes, she scrunches her face to the point she appears almost pained. Tilting her head to the side as if she hears something, she makes a low humming noise in her throat. She shakes her head ever so slightly, expression turning frustrated. I glance at Maddox, who is watching her like a hawk, then to Carrick, who is actually watching me.
Carrick’s eyes on me are incredibly disconcerting, so I return my attention to Echo just as she opens her eyes and releases her grip on my hands.
Her gaze moves to Maddox. “I’m sorry. I’m getting nothing but human. Not a whiff of fae or daemon or something else.”
“What else is there besides fae and daemon?” I blurt, thinking maybe she’ll give me some answers I’ve yet to get from Carrick or Zaid, or even Titus as he’s trained me the past two days.
“Try again,” Carrick orders, rolling over my question.
“Fuck you,” she snarls, the lipless area that is her mouth peeling back to reveal gray, rotting teeth. I wonder if that’s just the way she is or part of the meth.
“Let it go, brother,” Maddox urges gently. “If she doesn’t feel anything, it’s not there.”
Echo turns to Maddox with her hand out. He reaches into a side pocket on his black fatigues, pulls out a wallet, and fishes out a fifty-dollar bill, which he hands to her.
Something deep and dark rumbles in Carrick’s chest, and I can see frustration etched on every angle of his handsome face. Snatching up my hand, he mutters, “Let’s get you home.”
No ‘thank you’ to Echo for trying, even though she got paid well for about ten seconds of work.
No ‘thank you’ to his brother for bringing Echo to us.
I glance over my shoulder, hoping I don’t trip and fall, to find Echo gone and Maddox watching us. He gives me an encouraging smile.
I mouth back to him, “Thank you.”
He gives me a salute before pivoting on his booted heel and walking in the opposite direction.
“That was rude,” I mutter as Carrick pulls me along the boardwalk. I see his car waiting just ahead on Alaskan Way with the hazard lights on, and I wonder if the driver had been there the entire time.
“What was rude?” he asks, completely oblivious.
“You didn’t even thank Echo or your brother for helping out.”
“Echo was given fifty dollars, which is the only thanks she appreciates, and, trust me, my brother will get a big favor back from me at some point, and then we’ll be even.”
“Is that all your relationship is?” I ask, then almost twist my ankle as my heel gets stuck in between the boardwalk planks. Luckily, the momentum of our pace pulls it free, and I stay upright. “Slow down or let go of me, damn it. I’m going to fall trying to keep up with you.”
Carrick doesn’t release my hand but comes to a full stop and turns on me. I almost run straight into him. Luckily, I bring myself up just short of slamming into his chest, and once again, I tip my head back to an uncomfortable level to maintain eye contact.
“My relationship with my brother is none of your business,” he says icily.
“Apparently, nothing is my business,” I snap. Picking up the hem of my dress, I move past him and call over my shoulder. “I’m tired of being in the dark and of you not answering me. I’m not sure what use you are to me.”
I don’t look back to see if he follows. In fact, I assume he’ll head back into the auction for whatever it is he wanted. To my surprise, though, he follows me into the car and directs the driver to take me home first.