Sure enough, I find both men there. I’m not sure what it says that when I look at them, in my mind, I call them “men”. Zaid is a daemon, but is he also a man? Technically, he’s not. When I look at him now, I don’t see his human face. But still, despite knowing he is not of the human race, I consider him a man above all else. Does that mean I’ve developed a fondness? Or perhaps I’ve gotten too comfortable around him, accepting him as being more like me than not?
As for Carrick, he appears in every sense to be a man, yet I know he’s something different. When he said we needed to talk, it inferred he knows more than he’s let on before. If that’s the case, I’m not accepting any more half-truths or partial stories. I’m going to insist on knowing everything.
Carrick sits officiously behind his desk, although he’s removed his tuxedo jacket and tie, as well as rolled his sleeves up to mid-forearms. On more than one occasion, I’ve thought he has great forearms, but they do nothing for me in this moment.
Zaid sits in one of the two guest chairs across the desk from Carrick and I see a tea service set for one on Carrick’s desk. As I take my seat beside Zaid, he rises and pours me a cup.
For a moment, I consider it could be poisoned, but, deep in my gut, I know I’m too important to be expendable at this point. It’s with gratitude I accept the drink, inhaling the soothing blend of chamomile and orange, before taking a sip.
Zaid resumes his seat, and my gaze moves to Carrick. I lean forward, set my cup on his desk, and settle back into my chair. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”
CHAPTER 2
Finley
Carrick doesn’t dawdle. Doesn’t provide unnecessary background. He just rips the bandage off and says, “There’s a prophecy of doom, and you’re an integral part in thwarting it.”
I blink once, my eyes remaining open and round with shock. “You mean… like a Buffy the Vampire Slayer prophecy?”
I don’t ask that with any amount of levity, only that all seven seasons of Buffy are my only reference to prophecies.
“Who in the hell is Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” Zaid mutters. “There are no such things as vampires.”
Carrick just stares at me with such a serious expression on his beautiful face that I think what he is going to tell me is way worse than anything Buffy ever encountered.
We both ignore Zaid’s question, and I demand of Carrick. “Explain what you mean.”
Carrick leans forward, clasps his hands on his desk. “There is a prophecy that could put the entire world in peril.”
“Well, what’s the prophecy?” I ask in exasperation. “What’s the peril? When will it happen?”
“I don’t know,” he replies dully, and it’s done with such disregard of the fact that he is hitting me with some next-level information I want to claw his calm, yet glowing, eyes out.
“You don’t know?” I hiss, leaning forward in my chair. “And yet, you know there is a prophecy and I have to wonder how long you’ve known this. And why am I just hearing about it now?”
“I’ve known for about a month,” he replies, not an ounce of shame whatsoever.
My head starts spinning as anger turns to fury burning in my veins. That he would keep this from me for an entire month.
He’s been playing me, using me for some purpose I’ve yet to figure out, and drawn me deeper into a dangerous world when I might have had the opportunity to get out of it a long time ago if I’d known about this.
Reeling from what happened to my sister and the overload of information, I find myself at the end of my rope. I rise quickly from my chair. “Well, thank you very much for that information. But I’m going to have to decline participation. I’m leaving, and I want you to stay the hell away from me.”
Before I can even turn around, Carrick’s voice bursts inside my head again without him even opening his mouth. It’s stronger this time, actually making my bones rattle. Sit down.
My ass is hitting the chair before I can even comprehend what he just told me to do. I try to stand up, but I’m held immobile. I can feel my emotions getting ready to spiral out of control, but Carrick holds up a hand and I feel a calming peace wash through me.
Oh, the powers this man is just now showing me are strong, and I have to wonder what other tricks he has up his sleeve.
“Please just listen to me, Finley,” he says in a somewhat supplicating tone. “Let me tell you everything, because now not only your life depends on it, so do billions of others.”