Carrick’s jaw grinds in anger. While he doesn’t address the fact I just smacked him or drew a firm line in the sand, he makes it clear he’s still in charge by dragging me by the arm to the double-parked black sedan. There’s a driver I don’t recognize behind the wheel, so I’m guessing Carrick may have been en route to somewhere close by when he got the call.
I smile over my shoulder at Rainey and Myles with as much assurance as I can muster. “I’ll call you two later.”
Their return smiles are weak and uncertain.
CHAPTER 16
Carrick
Carrick was furious at her impetuosity, not because she foolishly put her life in jeopardy, but because she had caused fear to rise within him when he found out she went into that gallery.
He hadn’t felt fear in well… forever.
It wasn’t an emotion that had sway over him anymore.
Yet there he was when he got the call, feeling like his heart was going to lurch out of his chest as a cold sweat slicked his skin. His driver deserved a raise because he got Carrick to First Avenue in record time.
He had had no idea what he was going to do when he rushed in after her. He was prepared to kill the Dark Fae that had once been her sister if Finley’s life was in jeopardy, but luckily, Finley and her insipid friends came walking out—alive, healthy, and whole.
For a brief moment, he had considered not confronting Finley but walking right into that gallery and bringing an end to that creature’s life. It would make Finley safe, and it could potentially end the prophecy right then and there. He would be able to ascend, and Finley could go on with her life.
The only reason he pushed that idea aside time and time again was that he wasn’t so sure this Dark Fae’s death would stop it. Without knowing a fucking thing about the prophecy, her death could speed it up. Or strengthen it. Or any number of things he just couldn’t anticipate at this time.
And to be honest, it wasn’t the only reason he hadn’t killed the Dark Fae that took over the sister’s body. He didn’t want to act until he knew for sure whether Fallon was lost forever. If there was a sliver of hope remaining in Finley, he’d bide his time. It made him hate himself for even caring about her in a way that made him a slave to her emotions.
Finley was sitting quietly beside him in the car. He could feel the anger emanating off her without a single ounce of remorse over her actions. This ensured his fury remained bubbling, and he considered perhaps just locking her up until he could figure out what this prophecy was all about. He could keep her safe and secure in his condo under constant guard, which would give him peace of mind.
But that would be wrong. A butterfly couldn’t be caged.
Except she’s not exactly a butterfly, is she? Carrick thought.
No, despite her beauty and delicate features, she was more like a fiery phoenix rising from the ashes of her despair over what happened to her sister and friend. He couldn’t suppress that, not just because it could be detrimental to the prophecy, but because it would kill Finley not to be able to participate in getting vengeance while, at the same time, hopefully saving the world. She was in too deep, and she was too committed not to help lead the charge.
Carrick wondered if the gods had known all along how strong she would be. Was Adira’s death pre-ordained as a catalyst to get Finley’s commitment, or had one of the gods interfered where they shouldn’t?
Were they banking on Finley’s strength and determination to carry this through?
If so, he had better do a better job of keeping her safe because there’s one thing Finley was right about.
Carrick was in it for one thing, which was to ascend.
He deserved it not only for all the ways in which he had served the gods, but because he had endured Rune’s curse long enough, and he was not about to let human emotions cloud his judgment. He had to keep his eye on the prize.
By the time the car pulled up to The Prestige, Carrick’s anger had started to rise again. Mostly at himself for worrying so much about Finley and not enough about his end game.
The ride up the elevator was tense as the silence between them stretched thin. She had yet to apologize or even acknowledge what she did was wrong. The fact Finley clearly had no regret over her rash actions fueled his fury, so by the time the doors were swinging open, Carrick no longer thought about the fear he’d felt when she put her life in danger or the empathy he had for her losing her sister. He didn’t think of her as a butterfly or a phoenix, but merely an impulsively idiotic woman who needed to be reined in.