What resonated the most was a simple question. “What are you going to tell them, Blain? Where are you going to say you’ve been for the past few months? Are you going to tell them about fae and daemons and rituals to open a door between Hell and Earth? Because you’re going to end up in a psych unit if you do. And trust me… you know I have personal experience with that.”
That’s what really got him to agree to go somewhere safe that Carrick could arrange. In turn, Carrick assured him that he’d help him arrange a plausible reintroduction back into his life. In this instance, Carrick wouldn’t use his demi-god powers, but I assume his incredible wealth and influence where necessary.
On the flip side, I told Blain, “If Kymaris succeeds and the veil comes down, there’s no reason to hide what happened to you. Your parents and everyone else on Earth will know what you went through is the truth.”
I leave Blain’s room and head into the kitchen, where I find Zaid making dinner.
“Where’s Carrick?” I ask.
“In his office,” he replies as he works at dicing some chicken breasts. “Making arrangements for Blain.”
I nod silently, determined not to ask, but ultimately do. “And Zora?”
“I haven’t seen her or Maddox in a while,” he replies dryly, and I don’t need to know more. They’re probably in one of their bedrooms having casual, meaningless, no-strings sex.
“And your father?” I inquire.
“He left to go check out the gallery, see if anything else of value was in there after you rescued Blain. But he’ll be back. I invited him to dinner.”
My mouth drops open in astonishment. Zaid sees said astonishment and purses his lips before admonishing. “Don’t make a big deal of this, okay?”
I shake my head, make a cross over my heart. “No big deal.”
Wow. Zaid invited his dad to dinner. It’s something I thought I’d never see, and I wonder about the change of heart. Surely, it’s not one particular thing, but most likely a series of watching his father be loyal to our team. On more than one occasion, Boral has even protected me.
That’s kind of a big deal since he’s a Ravager and his nature is to cut my throat instead.
Zaid places the diced chicken in a bowl, then starts throwing in various seasonings. I don’t pay close attention since whatever he’s making will be fantastic, as always. I’ve often wondered why Zaid doesn’t open a restaurant or something, because he’s got mad chef skills.
Regardless, it does warm me to know that he’s open to perhaps allowing Boral into his life a bit. Maybe there’s an opportunity to mend fences. It could take decades… maybe even centuries, but Zaid inviting his dad to dinner is a cracking open of the door.
While I promised Zaid I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it—and I won’t—it does make me wonder about something I’ve always wanted to ask him about.
Zaid and I have come a long way in our relationship. There is a level of trust and care, although I might have dinged it up a bit when I tied him up today, but I know he’s still my friend and I’m his.
This is something I do feel comfortable in asking. “Have you ever thought about reaching out to your mom? Her name is Mala, right?”
Zaid knows Carrick told me all about his past, and Zaid and I even talked about it in general several times, especially during our time together when Carrick had been missing because of Rune.
But we never talked about his mother. When Zaid grew up to follow in Boral’s evil footsteps, she managed to escape and has supposedly been living in Faere ever since.
Zaid stiffens slightly at my question. Without looking up from the chicken, he shakes his head. “No. I’ve not seen her since she left for Faere.”
“Why not go there and seek her out?” I inquire.
“Daemons aren’t welcome in Faere,” he replies flatly.
“You know Carrick would get safe passage for you there,” I counter. “At the very least, he could go get your mother and bring her to you.”
“Not a good idea,” Zaid mutters, picking up the seasoned chicken and moving to the back counter so I now have his back. It’s a clear indication he doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Why isn’t it a good idea?” I press. “I bet she’d love to reconnect with you.”
Zaid turns slowly around to face me, his expression filled with pain. “She’s ashamed of me, Finley. She witnessed me do acts of brutality that were so horrific she grew to hate me the way she hated my father. She’d never forgive the things I’ve done, and there’s no reason for me to reach out to her.”
“And yet, you’re in the process of opening yourself up to your father.” I lean forward on the counter. “There is hope for everyone, Zaid. And I think you’ve become someone your mother would be incredibly proud of.”