A Battle of Blood and Stone Page 11
Besides Maddox and Zaid, Lucien was the only other person in Carrick’s life that knew Finley in each of her past lives as she was reincarnated each time. That brought a small smile to Lucien’s face, which was an oddity for sure.
With all of that laid before Lucien, it now came to the part where they had to talk about the Blood Stone.
“Zaid’s father, Boral, has been working with us and has gained access to Kymaris’ inner group,” Carrick informed his brother.
Lucien’s eyebrows shot high in astonishment. “And Zaid agreed to that?”
Lucien and Zaid were more alike than not, both having done horrible, unconscionable things, which sadly, weighed on their consciences. Carrick knew that Lucien’s role in getting Charmeine trapped in the Blood Stone was probably at the top of his list.
“Zaid has come to a reluctant acceptance of being around his father,” Maddox answered his brother’s question. “Boral agreed to be bound by heart rather than tongue, and the information he’s bringing us is unparalleled.”
That was a good set up to segue closer to the real reason they needed Lucien here.
“Kymaris is going to enact a ritual called confractus muros on the October new moon,” Carrick told Lucien. “If she succeeds, it will bring the veil down between the Earth realm and the Underworld.”
The implications of what would happen at that moment didn’t need discussion. Lucien knew full well what unleashing the denizens of Hell upon Earth would mean.
“The October new moon is just about four weeks away,” Lucien pointed out. “That’s not much time to stop this, assuming you have a plan.”
Carrick’s gaze shifted to Maddox’s for a moment before looking back to his brother. “We do have a plan, and we need your help.”
“Of course,” Lucien replied, the oath of loyalty being given without thought. Carrick wondered if he’d hold true to that once he was told what they were after.
“Kymaris needs a powerful object to enact the ritual.” Carrick briefly paused before adding, “The Blood Stone.”
Lucien’s normally golden-tanned skin went so pale that even his lips lost their color. “Does she have it?” he asked hoarsely.
Carrick shook his head. “No. Not that we know about. Boral will let us know if that changes. But she does have her followers out looking for it.”
Lucien relaxed slightly by that news, his gaze shifting off to the side as he pondered this. Carrick could almost see the wheels spinning inside his head.
“We know about Micah and Charmeine,” Carrick said softly, but the words landed like a boom of thunder.
Lucien’s head jerked, his eyes slamming onto Carrick. The pupils were hazed red, and a growl started low in his throat. “Why in the fuck didn’t you just lead with that?” he demanded.
“Dude,” Maddox said with a hint of apology in his expression. “The subject matter seemed to require some subtlety leading up to it.”
Lucien glared at Maddox before giving his attention back to Carrick. “You read Libri Mysteria. How did you even find it? I thought it was lost.”
“It was here in my library,” Carrick explained, filling Lucien in on how Myles had been told about it at a party, had seen it in the stacks, but hadn’t bothered with it since it was in Latin. “I’ve collected thousands of books and manuscripts over the centuries. Don’t even remember how I got it.”
Lucien heaved a sigh, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. Keeping his eyes there, he asked, “And you’re sure the Blood Stone has to be used?”
“Yes,” Carrick replied.
“And you plan to get it?” Lucien guessed, his head lifting and his attention back on his brother.
Carrick nodded, then made the request. “We need your help. We don’t know how to get to Micah’s realm. We need force to take it.”
Lucien didn’t respond, but rubbed his hand over his jaw in agitation. The mere fact he didn’t readily agree to help retrieve the stone spoke loudly since he had already loyally pledged his help. Carrick felt a pang of guilt for getting that pledge before giving his brother the full story.
The silence extended, which didn’t bode well, and compelled Carrick to ask, “Is Charmeine still alive within the stone?”
Lucien shrugged, but there was nothing blasé about the action. “I don’t know. She was when Micah cast me out.”
“Why didn’t you go right back in and get her?” Maddox asked, because a demi-god against a Dark Fae would win every time. Even one with stone magic at his bidding. “You’re stronger than Micah. You could have made him submit.”
Lucien’s eyes dragged to his brother, a torturous pain rimmed with rage making the red of his pupils go deeper. “Micah said he’d kill Charmeine if he ever saw me again. So, I stayed away. I thought maybe in time, he’d let her out. Maybe she would learn to love him again, and she’d be safe.”
“Based on your description of the monster Micah turned into,” Maddox pointed out. “I seriously doubt she’d love him again.”
Lucien shrugged again. “The powers of the stone chalice made him that way. I’m sure the stone could have reversed all of the ugliness that had set in upon him. Hell, he probably could have used the chalice to make her love him again.”
“You don’t believe that for a minute,” Carrick assessed, paying careful attention to Lucien’s tone as well as the fact his eyes were still burning red.
“No, I don’t,” Lucien replied through gritted teeth. “Micah was a monster of the soul. The body was just mimicking his insides. He was beyond any type of salvation, so the most likely scenario is she’s still trapped in the Blood Stone and Micah’s still drinking his tears from the chalice.”
Carrick hated to use Lucien’s lost love as bait, but he had no choice. “If we get the chalice and the Blood Stone, we’d have the power to release her.”
Lucien shakes his head, the first real indication this conversation was going south. “Don’t you get it? If he sees me, he’ll kill her on sight. If you go in and try to take it, he’ll kill her. We should leave it be. If it stays there, Kymaris can’t use it, and all you have to do is find that bitch and kill her. I’ll gladly help you do that.”
Carrick took a deep breath and let it out. His heart squeezed in understanding of his brother’s pain and fear, but it wouldn’t deter him from what needed to be done.
“The Blood Stone is critical, brother,” Carrick said gruffly. “Leaving the stone be in the hopes Kymaris doesn’t get it would be foolish. We’re demi-gods. We don’t play from a defensive position. We have no choice but to retrieve it.”
Lucien abruptly stood from the table, sending his chair scooting backward several feet. “Figure some way to get the Blood Stone without me then, because I’m not going to risk Charmeine’s life for your quest.”
“It’s not a quest,” Carrick growled, also standing from the table. “It’s the fate of mankind. You need to prioritize.”
Lucien’s eyes gleamed as he turned it back around on Carrick. “Are you telling me if the situations were reversed, you wouldn’t put Finley above the fate of mankind?”
Lucien had him. Carrick would indeed let the Earth realm burn if it meant saving Finley, and because of that, there simply was no way he could argue. Carrick understood where he was coming from.
Shoulders sagging slightly, Carrick merely gave his brother a nod and then put his hands on the library table. Head bent, he stared at the glossy surface, mind already trying to figure out how they could find Micah’s realm.
Perhaps it was time to go back to Wells and pay for his information… if Kymaris hadn’t already done that. They had the relic from Hungary but no clue how to use it.
Carrick heard Lucien’s footsteps as he moved to the staircase, and he had no intention of stopping him.
But his head lifted when he heard Maddox call out in question to Lucien before he could ascend. “What kind of life does she have in that stone, brother?”
Lucien turned slowly to Maddox. “What did you
say?”
Maddox merely shifted in his chair to look over his shoulder at Lucien, as if this conversation wasn’t important enough to warrant his full attention. But his words were sharp and pointed. “I said… what kind of life does Charmeine have living inside a fucking stone?”
Lucien remained mute, and Carrick had to wonder if the man had truly never considered that?
“Come on, bro,” Maddox taunted. “Do you seriously think she’s happy living inside a stone? I mean, what is that even like? Is she just miniaturized to fit inside a hollowed-out portion of it, or does magic give her some furniture to sit on? She has to be lonely, with no one but that monster crying in the chalice. She probably has to look at his hideous face as he cries into that cup and then drinks his misery. It’s no kind of—”
“All right,” Lucien roared, stomping over to his brother. Carrick braced for them to go at each other physically. Instead, Lucien just loomed over Maddox, who looked up at his brother with a bland smile. “Of course I wonder those things about her. It would be a horrid life to live, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t want to go in and rescue her.”
“Then why haven’t you?” Maddox queried, his head tipped in curiosity.
“Because… her being alive and trapped was better than dead,” he murmured, his eyes hard and resolute as he glanced up at Carrick.
“Better for who?” Carrick asked, and the question looked like it had the same force and effect as if a wrecking ball had just slammed into Lucien.
Once again, he went pale as the question was obvious in its answer. It felt better to Lucien to believe her alive, which meant there could perhaps be hope one day. But no one else would want that. Any reasonable creature would prefer death than an eternity trapped in solitude, and Lucien was just now having to confront that dichotomy.
“Fuck,” Lucien muttered, rubbing his hand over the top of his buzzed head.
Carrick and Maddox didn’t say a word as Lucien started pacing back and forth, repetitively cursing low under his breath.
He stopped, faced his brothers, and grimly announced, “My loyalty is to you. I’ll help you get the Blood Stone.”
Maddox rose from his chair, shaking his head. He knew what Carrick knew—Lucien was using this loyalty bullshit because he didn’t want to admit Charmeine would actually be better off dead than living life inside that stone.
But that was okay.
Carrick would have his brother’s back. “We’ll make it a rescue mission, Lucien. We’ll get the stone, and if she’s still alive, we’ll get her out.”
There was no hope in his expression, only resolution as Lucien nodded.
It was settled then.
They were going to Micah’s realm, and they were going to get the Blood Stone. It was the first time that Carrick dared to hope they might be able to stop Kymaris, which hopefully meant Finley wouldn’t die.
“Let’s strategize,” Carrick said, sitting back down at the table.
His brothers joined him. For the next hour, Lucien educated them on the realm as he remembered it. He drew maps and diagrams, and they hypothesized what Micah’s powers could be like if he’d continued to take from the chalice all this time. If the myth was true and the Blood Stone had limitless powers, and it was attached to the chalice, it stood to reason that Micah could have grown incredibly powerful in all that time.
Carrick, Maddox, and Lucien knew they couldn’t be killed, but they could be obliterated until such time the gods might choose to put them back together again. It meant they couldn’t just try to overwhelm Micah with their force. There would have to be some craft involved and more help.
By the end of the meeting, it was decided that, in addition to the three demi-god brothers, the others who would make the trip would be Finley, Titus, Zaid, and Boral. They would ask Deandra if she would join them, but they wouldn’t count on her.
What Carrick had hoped for was that Finley would figure out her powers, as they could come in handy going up against the likes of Micah. At the very least, Carrick needed to make sure she could protect herself if he couldn’t for some reason.
Whatever Deandra had planned for tonight, he hoped to fuck it would allow Finley to fully tap into her powers and be able to utilize them at will.
They decided to attack Micah’s realm in two days.
CHAPTER 12
Finley
Carrick and I stand in his living room, waiting for Deandra to come up in the elevator. She had sent word to Carrick that we would be going somewhere for her next lesson, and so we’d need to bend distance from inside the privacy of his condo.
She’s five minutes late as of now, and I’m tired. I stifle a yawn as today has been long and emotionally draining. It started off this morning with my meeting with Boral and officially bringing him on board our team, followed by a horrid afternoon with Deandra, and ending with a worn and withdrawn Lucien leaving the condo after Carrick and Maddox told him that we needed the Blood Stone.
Carrick and Maddox were worn out from that meeting, too. After I got the details, I know all three demi-gods came away with some emotional bruises. Carrick doesn’t have to say it, but it’s obvious he hates putting Lucien in this position. I know he’d much rather have just been able to offer help to his brother to rescue his true love from that stone without any ulterior motive.
Just as I know his devotion to me and our joint cause meant he’d have to hurt his brother to get what he wanted. I’m hoping we can pull off such a successful mission to Micah’s realm that we can free Charmeine from the stone and maybe Lucien can have her back again.
Carrick grumbles as he checks his watch. “Light Fae aren’t known for their punctuality. I should have tied her promptness to the money.”
I laugh and lean into his side, giving him a playful pat on his stomach—which is rock hard, by the way. “As much as I can’t stand Deandra, thank you for putting so much effort—and money—into finding someone to help me.”
Golden eyes stare down at me, his lips curled slightly upward. “Thank you for trusting me on this.”
“Yeah, well, that remains to be seen depending on what she does tonight,” I point out.
And with that, the elevator doors slide open—Carrick previously having left permission for her to be let up—and Deandra steps out looking like she just got back from a long jaunt on Rodeo Drive. She’s wearing a sophisticated cap-sleeved dress in a navy blue with a white belt cinched at the waist. On her feet are four-inch heels in matching navy, and she’s sporting a pair of large and expensive-looking sunglasses despite the fact it’s just after midnight.
The doors close behind her, and she does a little twirl as she removes her sunglasses. “How do I look? The clothing here is amazing.”
It definitely covers more than what she would normally wear in Faere, but I play nice. “You look beautiful.”
Which is the truth, so it didn’t taste that bitter.
Carrick merely grunted, choosing to chastise her instead. “I expect you to be on time from here on out if you want the remaining amount of your money.”
My head whips his way. Interesting. He had not told me that he only gave her part of the money, but I guess he’s only paying for results. That’s why he’s the smart multi-billionaire businessman, and I own a coffee shop.
Deandra glares at him, I think more offended he didn’t compliment her outfit. I decide to break the tension by asking, “Where are we off to?”
Deandra walks up to us, takes each of our hands, and says, “Faere.”
And with that, a rip in the veil opens up behind us where the elevators are, and I can see it’s nighttime in Faere. The sky is incredibly dark with no sign of a moon or stars. Deandra summons an orb of light to hang over her head, providing enough illumination as we step through that I can see the unnaturally green grass that’s pervasive in this realm.
We appear to be on some type of elevated plateau because, far in the distance, I can see the gaudy crystal castle of Nimeyah, which i
s lit like a beacon in the dark night. I wonder why she didn’t get us closer, as I assume that’s where we were going.
“What are we doing here?” I ask curiously.
Deandra puts her hands on my shoulders, then turns me one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. My jaw drops as we stand before what looks like an ancient Roman coliseum, the exterior completely lit by orbs of light on the ground angled upward. Except the structure isn’t actually ancient. The marble is pristine, the columns supporting the archways are in perfect condition, and it actually shimmers with the tell-tale signs of something that’s been magically built.
I’m truly awed. “What is that?”
“Once every hundred years, the Light Fae celebrate the creation of Faere with an event called the Festival of Creation. That includes games and actual battles of skill over several days. This is where it all takes place, and we just had ours a few months ago. My mother hides it with magic afterward as she thinks it’s an eyesore, but I’ve temporarily uncovered it as we’ll be practicing inside tonight.”
I glance at Carrick, not liking the sound of battles in a Romanesque coliseum that was known in our history to have some of the bloodiest and most violent engagements known to man. Carrick merely shrugs, clearly willing to see where Deandra is going with his.
She leads us inside the largest archway and up a flight of stairs, which comes out on the lower level of the interior. It’s incredibly dark, and we can only see a few feet ahead of us by the orb of light still hanging over Deandra’s head. We walk down to the first row of seating, which are long rows of marble benches that disappear into the darkness, but I imagine they run the perimeter of the coliseum. Given my observation of the outside, I’m assuming these stands rise upward a few levels as well.
I strain my eyes to see down into the pit below, but I can’t make out anything. I know just from watching the movie Gladiator, it’s probably hard-packed dirt and sits fairly low beneath these seats to prevent people from escaping.