Just before we leave, Zaid prevails upon me one more time to wait for Carrick to return. He goes low and actually makes me stop to re-evaluate when he says, “You do realize, Finley, that if you get hurt, Carrick will kill me for letting you go.”
And that’s not being dramatic.
Carrick would probably kill him because he left him as my primary protector. No matter the circumstance and regardless of how close their friendship is, he’d hold Zaid accountable.
Yeah… that makes me pause.
I glance over at Boral, who is waiting at the elevator with Zora. She has no clue the bitter history between the father and son, and I haven’t told her as it’s too personal a story to tell without Zaid’s permission.
My gaze slides back to Zaid, and there’s just no way I can put him in a bad situation with Carrick. Their friendship is so important, especially since Carrick saved Zaid from a tortured existence. I’m not about to cause any type of rift between them.
“Then you leave me no choice but to do this,” I reply to Zaid. With my palm thrust outward, I call forth a binding magic, and streams of light fly toward him. They act as ropes, wrapping around him from shoulder to mid-waist and locking his arms at his side.
Zaid’s eyes flare wide at my audacity. A red film covers his pupils, which tells me he’s pissed.
“You get these off me right now, Finley Porter,” he snarls.
“Try to break out yourself,” I reply, not to taunt him but because I need to know that he’ll remain secure and unable to stop me. This will save him from Carrick’s wrath.
Zaid struggles and curses for several seconds before shooting a glare at his father. “Make her take them off me.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Boral have a moral struggle. He wants nothing more than his son to forgive him and to have a relationship again. If he helps Zaid, that will definitely be something that paves the way. If he says no, he’ll lose any ground he’s gained.
I give a warning to Boral to take the decision away from him. “If you make a move, I’ll wrap you up with magic, too, and go by myself.”
Boral doesn’t move an inch, and I move several feet until I’m face to face with Zaid. He growls low in his chest with reproach. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I have to do this, and I also know Carrick will be pissed at you. I’m taking your choice away.”
“Let me go with you, Finley. For extra protection.”
My smile is sad as I shake my head. “I’d rather keep you safe, my friend. Carrick will only have me to blame.”
This results not in a kumbaya moment with Zaid, but with more curses leveled right at me. I take a few steps back as I nod toward the living area. “I left you the use of your legs. I suggest sitting down and getting comfortable. We shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
Zaid is yelling curses at me as I get into the elevator with Boral and Zora. When the doors close, Boral says, “He won’t forgive you.”
“Of course he will,” I reply confidently. “Especially once we have Blain firmly in hand and the daemons dispatched.”
We’re silent as we move through the lobby and get into the G550 the valet had brought around, with Boral driving, me in the front passenger seat, and Zora in the back. We brought along a first aid kit in my backpack since there’s no telling what type of shape Blain is in.
No one says a word as we drive the handful of blocks down to First Avenue where Fallon’s gallery is located. I’ve definitely got some feels going on as I have not been back here since the last time I saw Fallon right inside the gallery when she was already inhabited by Kymaris. I went to see her, hoping there was something of my sister left inside that could be reached. I’ve since learned she was dead the minute Kymaris entered her during the changeling ritual.
Because Kymaris took Fallon’s identity, subsequently went to Switzerland where her fiancé, Blain, went missing and hasn’t been seen since, things have been in a bit of legal limbo. She’s not been missing long enough to be declared dead. But the police don’t think “Fallon” is dead. They think she killed Blain and is in hiding.
Carrick’s team of high-priced lawyers moved in and were able to petition the court to put her gallery into a conservatorship under my name to manage until she was located or declared dead. All the art on consignment was returned to the creators. The rest that Fallon had purchased for resale was moved out to a secure storage location and the space is empty of everything. Carrick has insisted on keeping up with the rent payments, although I haven’t discussed with him why he would do such a thing.