The Evolution of Fae and Gods (Chronicles of the Stone Veil #3) - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,30

Seattle in his fancy sports car.

Of course, I had no clue what type of car it was, other than I’d never seen anything like it, and I felt like I was in some space movie as I slid into the passenger seat. I asked Carrick right away, “What type of car is this?”

“A Bugatti Chiron,” he replied as he pulled out.

Immediately, I Googled the car and read stuff about hyper-performance sixteen-cylinder engine and fifteen hundred horsepower, all of which was over my head. But my eyes popped out of my head when I saw the price tag was a cool three million dollars.

The entire ride, I was afraid I’d sweat on the leather and ruin it, but Carrick seemed completely at ease, shifting gears and maneuvering out of city traffic. I could hear the engine poised to scream if he let loose, but he drove like a slowpoke.

Tina Porter posed as my estranged aunt for two years and lived just an hour north of Seattle on the outskirts of Mt. Vernon. Fallon and I had never been to her house, but we did have her address on numerous documents, plus she sends me cards from time to time.

We never once thought to question her story about being estranged from the family. Mired in grief over our dad’s death by suicide, we readily accepted there was a family member he never told us about. After all, the legal papers she had in hand when she came to see us the day after he died were legit and accepted by the courts without question. I think we were a little grateful that “Aunt Tina” didn’t ask us to move to Mt. Vernon with her and happily accepted her offer to live in our house. We were thrilled we wouldn’t be going into the foster system. Tina moved into Dad’s bedroom and, for two years, met our most basic needs.

Now, as Carrick and I stand at the bottom of her porch steps, looking up at a house I’ve never seen or been to before, I wonder what we’ll find. We’re only here on a hunch, but my gut says we’re right about it.

Tina is my Custodia angel.

I glance around, marveling at how secluded of an area she lives in. Her driveway went back a good quarter-mile off the main road, right through a thick copse of trees. There were no other houses around.

Her small home is made of weathered lumber with a covered porch. Her yard is beautiful with well-manicured green grass that’s able to grow because the tree line sits back a good hundred yards from her house, allowing plenty of light in. She has flower beds and meandering paths branching off to either side of the house, with colorful perennials planted all along the front. Clearly, she has the greenest of thumbs, and I wonder why she never bothered with our house the few years she lived there.

Before we can move up the steps to the front door, it opens, and then the screen door pushes forward with a creak as a woman steps out. I haven’t seen Aunt Tina in twelve years, but it’s her.

Just… different.

She’s actually younger looking than when she came to take care of us, by at least twenty years. Her blonde hair is the same color but not the short, practical bob she’d worn then. It’s lustrous and wavy, parted down the middle, with long chunks hanging over her shoulders. The age lines are gone, and her complexion is dewy fresh. This is the validation that was needed. She’s not my aunt, but an angel, and the expression on her face says she knows that we know the truth.

“I should be surprised you came to see me,” the angel says with a smile. “But I’m not.”

I’m suddenly dumbfounded as to what to say, so I make a hasty introduction. “Tina… this is Carrick.”

She responds by stepping fully out onto the porch. She’s wearing an ankle-length beige skirt with fringe at the bottom and a loose white blouse that reveals both shoulders. Her feet are bare. “It’s not Tina. It’s Sarvel.”

“Oh,” I mumble, now totally dead in the water with conversation ideas.

Sarvel looks to Carrick. “And I know who you are, demi-god.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” he replies smoothly. “Which is why we need to talk. Can we come in?”

“Yeah,” I add with a lifted chin. “What he said.”

Sarvel’s eyes crinkle, and she waves her arm. “Come on in. I’ll fix us some tea,