The evolution of fae and.., p.1
The Evolution of Fae and Gods, page 1
The Evolution of Fae and Gods
Chronicles of the Stone Veil
SAWYER BENNETT
The Evolution of Fae and Gods is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Sawyer Bennett
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
Carrick
The feeling of impending doom brought him out of his sleep, and he was instantly on high alert.
Carrick had fallen asleep on the couch in his office, doing some late-night reading in search of any information he could find on changelings. Glancing out his office doors to the skyline, he could tell they were in the pre-dawn hours.
Removing the book off his chest where it had fallen, he swung his legs off the couch and grabbed his cell phone. Shoving it into the side pocket of the cargo pants he still sported from the trip to Faere, he moved quickly out of his office. The condo was dimly lit by sconce lighting that he left on throughout the night, but he didn’t need it to navigate across the penthouse to Finley’s suite. He could see fine in the pitchest of dark if the situation were to arise. Rather, he left the lights on for Finley’s benefit.
His stomach clenched as unease seemed to coil even tighter within him the closer he got to her room. Carrick was almost sure whatever woke him up had something to do with Finley, so he had no problem barging in on her in the wee hours.
Without so much as a knock, he threw her door open, his anxiety skyrocketing when he saw her empty bed.
He didn’t need to search the apartment, for he already knew she was gone.
Carrick closed his eyes, searching for the connection that they shared. It had snapped into place the minute he laid eyes on her at Fallon’s gallery show all those weeks ago. Finley had once been amazed that Carrick found her hiding out on the Fantasia, and he had told her that he had never lost her.
That was truer than she would ever know.
Opening himself up, Carrick spread his powers out far and wide in a muted blast across downtown Seattle, and it took only a second for him to locate her. The imminent danger she was in rippled through him like a shock wave, and genuine fear clogged his throat as he hoped he wouldn’t be too late.
Envisioning One Bean in his mind, he reached out, grabbed the coffee shop with his power, and pulled it to him. In a blink, he stepped from Finley’s bedroom into One Bean’s entryway only to find the building burning hot all around and two fireballs flying right at Finley.
Carrick released the distance he’d bent between his condo and this place while simultaneously using his extraordinary speed to move in front of Finley to protect her.
He barely got a glance at Fallon twenty feet away before he felt the heat of the fireballs and managed to turn his body toward Finley. He snatched her into his arms, curled as much of his body around her as possible, and let the fireballs slam into his back.
The fire melted his shirt, singed his hair down to the scalp, and seared the skin on his back and shoulders. The force of the blast knocked them both to the ground, and Finley cried out in pain as he landed heavily on top of her.
Carrick didn’t have time to assess her injuries. He was glad of that painful cry she uttered because it meant she was alive, and he had more important things to do at this moment.
Springing to his feet, he whirled on the Dark Fae and reveled in her look of surprise. He had just ruined her plans to kill Finley, but he braced when her expression changed from shock to fury. Finley groaned behind him, and while he was attuned to her, he refused to take his focus from the enraged creature across the burning shop.
Flames covered the walls, had engulfed all of the furnishings, and ceiling tiles were starting to crash down. The smoke was thick, and while it didn’t affect him, he heard Finley start coughing.
Carrick knew the coffee shop was a loss, but it would be a victory if he got Finley out of here alive.
He also knew he could potentially end this prophecy once and for all if he were to just kill the Dark Fae right now.
Obviously, there were risks to that since they still didn’t know what this creature’s role was. Her death could activate it for all he knew, which meant killing her wasn’t the right move.
Moreover, Carrick didn’t know if there was any connection between this changeling and Finley’s real sister in The Underworld, and he simply couldn’t take the chance that she might be destroyed as well if the Dark Fae died.
Decision made to escape rather than kill, Carrick realized he needed a distraction. He pulled forth his powers, which were stronger than any fae, and picked up a burning table with the force of his will. It hovered a moment before he sent it flying at the Dark Fae who was once Finley’s sister, and took only a moment to feel the pleasure of seeing it crash into her with such force that she went flying backward into the hallway.
He didn’t wait to see her get up because he knew she would. That was merely a love tap to a fae, and he didn’t know if she was willing to continue to tangle with him. If she did, that put Finley in more danger as the smoke and fire would kill her before Fallon could attempt to get past him.
So he spun toward Finley, heaved a sigh of relief when he saw her rising to her feet, and grabbed her by the arm to help her the rest of the way. Turning her toward the door, he put an arm around her back and said, “Come on. We have to go.”
Finley was hobbled, her first step to the door a limp, and Carrick was about to scoop her up in his arms when something slammed into their backs. This time, it wasn’t fire or a return volley of burning furniture, but rather felt like a magical wall slamming into them with the force of an ocean tsunami. It lifted them off their feet and propelled them straight toward the glass window beside the door.
Carrick barely had time to pull Finley to him, once again wrapping himself as much around her as he could, before rolling slightly so his body took the impact of the glass.
It shattered all around them, slicing into him everywhere and he knew there was no way Finley was going to escape without some cuts. Through shards of flying glass and billowing black smoke, he saw the sidewalk rushing up to meet them. Carrick managed to twist just enough that he took the brunt of the impact, coming down hard on his right side. He heard the breaking of his collarbone and ignored the pain, pushing Finley off him and bolting to his feet to face the blasted-out window.
He braced, preparing for the Dark Fae Fallon to continue this fight. Waited for her to come flying through the window.
The smoke was so thick he couldn’t see into the shop, so he garnered his power and thrust his hands toward the window. A hard gust of wind blew through to clear the inside for a quick look.
Dark Fae Fallon was gone.
In the distance, Carrick heard the wail of a fire truck, and he knew they had to leave. There was no way they’d be able to explain in any sane way what had happened here.
Turning to Finley, he found her leaning on one hip, hand to the pavement to support herself. Black soot on her face, tears streaming from the smoke, and blood dripping down her forehead, she appeared completely shell-shocked. Carrick knew she wouldn’t be able to run, so he made a hasty decision.
Despite the broken collarbone and several cuts all over his body, not to mention the third-degree burns on his back, Carrick was still able to easily lift Finley from the pavement, cradling her gently in his arms.
Just before he prepared to run in the opposite way of the rescue sirens, he felt Finley sob against him. He looked down to see her staring in grief as One Bean burned.
Carrick wished he had time to comfort her, but he needed to get them away from the scene first. He had to get her back to the condo to assess her injuries and take care of her.
Turning on his heel, Carrick ran two blocks in the general direction of his condo and then ducked into a side alley so he could better assess Finley and call for help.
Squatting, he gently lowered her to the pavement. She groaned from something that caused her pain, but eventually settled her back against the filthy brick wall.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he fished his phone out of his pocket, hoping it hadn’t been crushed during his flight through the glass window.
Breathing relief when he saw the phone was completely intact, he dialed Zaid. With terse instructions, he told Zaid where to pick them up and pocketed the phone.
Turning his gaze to Finley, he grimaced as he took her in. She was battered in a way that made him want to hunt that abomination of a Dark Fae down and kill her slowly with iron daggers.
“Where are you hurt?” Carrick asked, wanting an assessment of the injuries that weren’t obvious.
He could already see the glass had shredded her clothing, and she was bleeding from numerous cuts from top to bottom. He imagined he looked much the same, but worse. Finley had a large scrape across her cheekbone and a purple bruise starting under the eye on that side.
But he remembered her hobbling—he was afraid she had broken bones and maybe even internal injuries. He needed to know if it was prudent to take her to his condo for care or if he should bypass it for the hospital.
“My ankle,” she said, nodding wearily to her right side. “I don’t think it’s broken, though. Just sprained.”
“Where else?” Carrick pressed.
“How about every inch of my body?” she retorted with a wry smile, and Carrick took that as a good sign.
He needed a bit more, though, so he pushed. “Anything internal? Any pain in your stomach or chest?”
“Not the type that would mean a ruptured spleen,” she muttered. “I’m just really sore, but the ankle is the worst.”
He’d take her to the condo then, which was for the best. Going to a hospital was most likely going to cause quite a stir, including involvement by the police. As it stood, there was a good chance they’d be trying to locate Finley soon to let her know her shop was on fire.
Finley’s eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them back up, they were filled with misery. “One Bean is destroyed.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“I almost died,” she said.
“I know,” he replied softly.
“You saved me.” Her tone was filled with a bit of awe.
“I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you,” Carrick vowed.
He said it while looking her straight in the eye and with the purest of intent, for he cared about Finley more than she could ever imagine.
But he also knew he was most likely telling her a lie because he didn’t think he could protect her from the horror that was coming.
CHAPTER 2
Finley
You would think I’d be embarrassed to be stripped down to my underwear and bra while Carrick carefully attends to every single cut on my body. Several he had to pick out shards of glass with tweezers, and it was a painstaking process. A plate sits on my bedside table where he deposits the bloody pieces of glass, along with a bowl of warm water he uses to clean around the wounds.
But I’m not embarrassed at all because Carrick waved off Zaid’s offer to help and insisted on caring for me himself, despite the fact he is clearly seriously injured.
The first thing he did upon carrying me into the condo was take me right to my room and gently lay me on the bed. He then placed his palm on my forehead, murmured some words I didn’t understand, and immediately a sense of peace and well-being washed through me. While my injuries still hurt, the traumatization of what happened tonight feels blanketed right now.
I watch as Carrick bends over a cut on my left thigh. His focus on his work is intense as he examines the length and depth before dabbing liquid from a brown bottle without a label on it. It stings for a moment before numbing the wound quite nicely.
There’s a light knock on my bedroom door, and Zaid peeks his head in. Strangely, I’m not embarrassed to be in my underwear in front of him either, and now I’m wondering if that’s because of whatever mojo Carrick put on me with his hand to my head.
“There’s a healer on the way,” Zaid announces.
Carrick doesn’t take his attention off his work. “Good. Because some of these cuts need stitches, and I’d rather not put her through that. Plus, I want the ankle fixed ASAP. She doesn’t have time to let it heal naturally.”
Zaid nods and disappears, the door shutting quietly.
“What about you?” I ask, resisting the urge to reach out and brush away a lock of hair that’s fallen over his forehead. Normally, his hair is always perfectly swept back in gentle waves from his face, but I have to say he looks incredibly roguish with it messed up a bit.
“What about me what?” Carrick asks vaguely, more focused on my injuries than on my words.
“You’ve got horrible burns,” I point out. I’d seen his back, which is raw and blistered, when he left my room to get medical supplies. “You have ten times as many cuts as I do, and your left arm is drooping, so I know there’s something wrong with it.”
“Broken collarbone,” he replies, sounding matter of fact.
“Carrick,” I exclaim, finally getting his attention. Those beautiful golden eyes come my way. “You need a healer, too.”
I expect him to fight me on it or ignore my proclamation, but he only smiles. “You’re sweet, Finley, but my injuries are going to heal before yours are.”
To prove his point, he holds out his arm and pulls up the shredded sleeve. There’s dried blood everywhere, but I don’t see a single open cut.
“But your back,” I protest.
Carrick angles slightly toward the wall so I can see his back, which is bare because the material burned away. It’s almost completely healed except for a few patches of pink skin.
Before I can say another word, he adds, “And I can feel the fracture is almost done knitting.”
“Oh,” I murmur, having forgotten Carrick is nearly impervious to injury. He’s a demi-god, after all.
He gets back to work, moving to a large scrape on my hipbone that I think happened when we bounced onto the sidewalk. Carrick took most of that impact, but I wasn’t immune to the cement burns.
“Want to tell me why you were alone at the shop facing off with a Dark Fae at four-thirty in the morning?” he asks quietly, but I don’t miss the underlying edge of anger in his voice. Now that I’m safe, he has a handle on my injuries, and he knows a healer is on the way to handle the rest, he can focus some of his attention on my foolishness.
Trying not to get distracted when he has to push the edge of my panties at my hipbone out of the way so he can clean the entire scrape, I just admit the obvious. “I’m an idiot. I got a call from what I thought was a police officer telling me One Bean had been broken into. It never even occurred to me to question the truth of it.”
Carrick lifts his head, his expression full of mild disappointment. “You have got to stop rushing off on your own. That stupid stunt at Fallon’s gallery, and now this? You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Glumly, I avert my gaze. “I know… and then the world will perish if I’m not around to thwart the prophecy.”
“No,” Carrick barks, and my gaze snaps to his. He’s livid. “Then, I’d have to live with the guilt of not protecting you.”
I hear pain in his voice. It alarms me enough that I raise to my elbows so we can have a conversation while making eye contact. “Carrick… I’m really sorry.”
The anger in his eyes bubbles, but then it starts to wane. Sighing, he gives a helpless shake of his head as he dabs more of the liquid on the hip scrape. “You have got to be more careful. Her being able to throw fireballs like that isn’t something a Dark Fae should be able to do. That was strong magic, and we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Now, more than ever, you have to be cautious since we know this fae has decided to take you out.”
“Because she knows,” I murmur, and Carrick’s head flies back up, eyes wide. “She said she’d heard some interesting things about me, and she knew I could see under her glamour.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “Did she say anything about the prophecy or feather?”
I shake my head. “No. Only that she was going to kill me… and not just for being a nitwit sister who is in her way.”
Shaking his head, face flush with both sympathy and determination, he says, “I’m sorry, Finley. But you can’t go anywhere on your own from now on. No telling when she’s going to come after you again.”
I lay back down on the bed, much of that peace and well-being he’d instilled in me drifting away. My eyes pin to the ceiling, afraid I might cry if I look at Carrick. “Where would I go?” My voice is petulant and morose. “One Bean is gone. I have nothing.”
