A Discovery of Secrets and Fate (Chronicles of the Stone Veil #2) - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,19
Fallon Porter.”
Zaid leaned over the phone. “Miss Porter… I’m calling on behalf of Carrick Byrne. He was wondering if perhaps he could come by this morning and look at some art for his home office.”
“I would be honored,” she replied calmly, sounding neither overly excited nor put out by the request. “What time would be good?”
Carrick and Zaid shared a knowing glance. The real Fallon Porter would have been far more exuberant to have Carrick wanting to look at some of her art.
Zaid pushed a bit at her to see if she was playing a role or if any of the real Fallon’s memories were in there. “The sooner the better,” he replied, smirking at Carrick. “The last time he was there, he was very regretful he didn’t get the chance to look around.”
Fallon laughed before she purred. “I was disappointed he couldn’t stay for the show, too. He missed some fantastic pieces I would have personally loved to show him.”
There was an underlying sexual timbre in her words, but despite that, Carrick relaxed a little, hearing her confirm knowledge of their first meeting. Perhaps Finley’s sister was still inside and could be saved, although that wasn’t his primary objective. Still, if he could find a way to save her in the process of thwarting the prophecy, he would do that for Finley.
“How about in say, an hour?” Zaid offered.
“Perfect,” Fallon replied. “See you then.”
After disconnecting from the call, Carrick, Zaid, and Titus talked for another thirty minutes, discussing ways to learn more about what the prophecy could be. Zaid had the most connections since he had contacts on both the light and dark side of the fae and daemon societies. Titus was a hunter of Dark Fae and their daemon offspring, so he wasn’t as in touch. Regardless, he insisted on staying in the earthly realm for a while to help Carrick and Finley as best he could.
When it was time to head to the gallery, Zaid called down for Carrick’s car and within five minutes, he was across Belltown. When the driver opened his door, he darted through the light rain that had started to fall and opened the door to the art gallery, which was titled simply, Fallon’s.
Carrick was greeted by a man who he assumed was Fallon’s assistant as he introduced himself as Peter Carpenter. He presented as a sniveling ass kisser of a man on the shorter side of short, profusely welcoming Carrick into the gallery. He did so even bowing slightly as he talked.
Carrick saw through his charade, though, easily looking past the glamour Peter wore. He was a daemon with a very dark aura.
When he left to get Fallon, Carrick wandered the gallery, pondering some pieces he found quite to his liking. He passed a worker who was on a ladder adjusting a massive wall piece and was able to pierce his veil easily to see he was a dark daemon as well. This seemed to indicate that Fallon was pulling dark creatures in close to her. She wasted no time as her change had occurred only three days ago. Fallon was surrounding herself with minions of her ilk.
“Carrick.” At the sound of Fallon’s voice, Carrick pivoted to face her. Without a twitch to his bland expression, he took in the other changes to this new Fallon besides what he’d heard on the phone.
She strode toward him in an outfit that he found to be too overtly sexual for a business owner of a highly reputable art gallery. It consisted of a short black miniskirt with a sheer, white blouse tucked in at the waist with several of the top buttons undone. Under the blouse, she had on a black bra, which stood out starkly.
That wasn’t the only change to her outward human appearance. The Fallon that was Finley’s sister was posh and elegant. Her hair was sleekly designed, her makeup subtle and tasteful. She dressed in high-end couture that was business chic. She walked gracefully, and her expression was always warm.
This Fallon—this dark creature—was shockingly different. Her normally glossy-brown hair, worn just above her shoulders, was now streaked with chunks of blond and curled into tight coils that seemed to spring out in a halo effect around her. It was neither fashionable nor trendy. Her makeup was heavy and garish. As she came closer to Carrick, her stride was almost predatory, as was her gaze upon him.
If any of Finley’s sister was left inside, she was buried down very deep.