Free Carrier 02: Shadow of the Mark by Leigh Fallon

that we are all financially taken care of, but we don’t use it.”
    “What?” I gasped, turning to him in surprise. “You mean, you’re loaded, but you don’t use the money?”
    “You know how Fionn feels about the Order. He doesn’t want anything from them, so he never accepted any money. We didn’t have personal access to our trust funds until we turned eighteen.”
    “But you’re eighteen now. You could spend it on anything you want!”
    “We don’t, out of respect for Fionn, and because we don’t need it. He looks after us.”
    “Do I have one?”
    “I guess.”
    “So you’re telling me I’m rich.” I stopped walking, my thoughts churning.
    When Adam realized I was no longer beside him, he swung around and exhaled heavily. “Potentially, yeah, when you turn eighteen.” A sly smile crept across his lips. “Until then, you’re still a pauper.”
    “And it never occurred to you to tell me?”
    “Nope. As I said, I don’t think about it; it’s just there. We respect Fionn’s decision.”
    “Think of all you could do.”
    Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Megan, the Order is a twisted organization built on centuries of corruption, betrayal, and power. Everything you take from them comes at a price. Don’t let the Dublin Order lull you into a false sense of security. They’re not all like that.”
    His words lingered in my mind through the entire ride home. There was so much I didn’t know about the Order. The depth of the distrust and the scars of betrayal went far deeper than I thought.
    As we got out of the car at the DeRíses’, Matthew stumbled and fell against me. “You know, Áine doesn’t want me.”
    “It’s not like that, Ma—”
    He shook his head. “Nope, she won’t have me.” His sandy hair flopped down over his crossed eyes. “You could have me . . . if she won’t, you can. I can be . . .” He turned his head slightly to the side and burped. “S’cuse me.” He giggled. “I can be your intended.”
    “Tempting,” I muttered as my eyes darted to Adam. He approached Matthew with a face that could sour milk.
    Áine came running out, pushed past Adam, and threw herself between Matthew and me. He looked winded for a second, then locked his arms around her, diving in for a killer, full-on kiss.
    Áine fought him off. “Matthew! Not . . . in front of everyone.”
    Hugh smiled uncertainly. “Um, well, I’ll leave you youngsters to catch up,” he said, and shuffled across the yard to the scullery door.
    As soon as he was out of sight, Áine shoved Matthew. “What the hell was that?”
    “I was role-playing.”
    “Ugh!” Áine wiped her mouth again.
    Adam’s hand slipped into mine. “Don’t mind him, Áine. He’s langers. You better sober him up before dinner—otherwise, he’ll open his big fat gob.”
    Áine grabbed Matthew’s sleeve and pulled him toward the house.
    “Oh, and Matthew,” Adam called after him. Matthew turned slowly, suddenly looking a little less drunk. “Stay the hell away from Megan.”
    Inside, Fionn was ushering Hugh down the hall to his study. “Megan, any chance you could have dinner with us tomorrow?”
    “I would love that, Fionn. Thanks.”
    “Excellent,” he said, disappearing from view.
    Adam shook his head, leaned back against the kitchen table, and gazed into the hall. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s been making a big deal out of every family meal, like each one is our last. It’s beginning to freak me out.”
    “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
    “That’s because you don’t know him like I do.” Adam’s troubled eyes met mine.
    “There are going to be some huge changes over the next year,” I said. “Once the alignment is done, there won’t be anything tying you all here anymore. You guys are all he’s ever known. When you think about it, it must be fairly daunting.” As I said the words, the realization hit. Áine, Adam, and Rían had their own lives to lead,