The Poisoned Veil (Accessory to Magic Book 4)

by Kathrin Hutson

  “Most likely.” Steve hummed in thought. “Though honestly, I’m not aware of any other Guardian getting this far. Not that any of them ever wanted to get this far in the first place. You’re charting new territory here, Jessica. For all of us.”

  “Super.”

  An incredibly awkward pause followed, and she forced herself to continue the conversation despite how badly she never wanted to have had it in the first place.

  “Okay. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be fine. Three more days, then I’ll be...” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Well, out of the world. Literally. And then the danger’s out of the way.”

  She didn’t have to voice the added caveat she knew they were all thinking—that only half of the danger, or most likely a lot less than that, would be removed by Jessica removing herself from this side of the Gateway. The rest of the danger would absolutely be waiting for her on the other side, and there was no telling how much worse it could get from there.

  “Just please be careful, Jess,” Mel whispered. “No one has any idea what happens from here on out.”

  “No one but Leandras,” Cedrick added in a low grumble of disapproval. “And you, apparently.”

  “If you need anything from any of us,” Steve said, “reach out. Even if it seems like it’s not that big of a deal. The worst thing any of us can do right now is to isolate. You know, stop up the communication flow. Pockets of the Laenmúr all over the world have been waiting for this, so...just know there’s a lot more firepower at your fingertips than what you saw this morning.”

  Jessica couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. The warlock wanted to tell her about the firepower at her fingertips?

  ‘Yeah, I don’t think he thought that one through all the way,’ the bank mused with a light chuckle.

  Then Steve seemed to realize what he’d said and stumbled over wordless syllables until he finally blurted, “Talking about the rest of us, obviously. I mean, we all know what you’re capable of, but if you need anything else, anything not...well, vestrohím-related, just let us know.”

  Mel and Cedrick chuckled softly in the background.

  “Yeah, thanks for the offer,” Jessica muttered.

  The warlock cleared his throat again. “I’ll have Mel text you my number just in case. You know, because we’re not always in the same room together. This was just—”

  “You should stop before you hurt yourself.” It had been a long time since anyone had stumbled over their words like that around her. A long time since anyone she didn’t already know almost as well as she knew herself had seen what she could do with the full force of her magic blazing through her. Steve had kept it together fairly well in the warehouse, but now it sounded like what he’d seen was finally starting to sink in with its own weight of reality.

  When the silence stretched on for another five seconds, Jessica smacked her lips. “Thanks for the heads-up, guys. And just...hang tight, I guess. Couple more days, and this’ll either all be over, or everything’ll go to shit, and then it really will be over.”

  Cedrick grunted with a hint of amusement. “Way to keep it positive, Jess.”

  “You know me. Always the optimist.” Except for she wasn’t, and they all knew it. And this felt like a ridiculous note on which to end the conversation.

  ‘Just meat-up and ask already. What’s the worst he could say?’

  I don’t know. Can’t be much worse than you commenting on every single thought in my head before I have a chance to process it.

  ‘Quit stalling. I wanna hear his answer too.’

  “All right.” Steve took a deep breath. “We have some work of our own to get back to, so I’ll—”

  “Hold on a sec.” Closing her eyes, Jessica wrinkled her nose and forced her voice to remain steady, because she couldn’t believe she was actually asking this out loud of a complete stranger. “Steve, how long have you known Leandras?”

  With the next round of silence, it really wasn’t that hard to imagine Mel and Cedrick exchanging another seriously confused glance while Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and shot the phone the same knowing look he’d shot Leandras in the warehouse. At least, imagining them all reacting that way made the pause in the conversation slightly more bearable.

  “I guess it’s been... I don’t know, exactly. Maybe ten years?”

  Good enough.

  “How much do you trust him?”

  Steve’s thoughtful hum turned into a low growl at the end that morphed into yet another clearing of his throat. “Is that really what you want to know? Or are you asking how much I think you should trust him?”

  ‘Oh, touché!’

  Yeah, the warlock knew how to play his cards, all right. And there was no skirting around her real motives anymore.

  “Both,” Jessica muttered.

  With a click of his tongue, Steve let out a slow, hesitant breath. “I trust the fae to do what he says he’ll do. That doesn’t always include promises of when or how, but as long as I’ve known him, he’s always held up to his word. Eventually.”

  No surprises there.

  “As for whether or not the Guardian should put her faith in the guy? Honestly, I’d say trust him when he’s right there in front of you. But I’d keep a healthy level of skepticism about anything he says or anything you hear that doesn’t come with some kind of proof you can’t see with your own eyes or touch with both hands. Make sense?”

  “More than you know. Thanks, Steve.”

  “But whether or not any of us trust one magical among thousands doesn’t really change our goal or our purpose,” the warlock continued. “There’s still a lot of work to do. I can only promise you what I know the Laenmúr factions are willing to do to help you achieve it. When you and Leandras return from the other side.”

  The emphasis wasn’t lost on either of them.

  When she and Leandras returned, not if. That could have been either Steve’s blossoming knack for positive thinking, incredible ignorance at play, or an unspoken plea for Jessica to do whatever it took to ensure that outcome.

  ‘Sounds like all three mixed up into one,’ the bank muttered.

  Probably, yeah.

  “When we return. Yeah. Thanks.” After the last few months spent guarding and protecting and surviving within the bank, Jessica had finally received a straightforward answer from someone who didn’t have any ulterior motive behind what they told her and how far they were willing to twist their own words. Which sparked another flare of inspiration in her for one more question.

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to bring it up out of the blue once Steve asked, “Is there anything else we can do for you now? Before you leave?”

  It was a longshot, but there couldn’t be any harm in asking. “Yeah, actually. Kind of unrelated, but... Do any of you guys know anything about time-jumping?”

  Cedrick hissed out a laugh. “Good one.”

  “No, I’m serious.” Jessica wrinkled her nose. “I mean, like, chunks of time just kinda folding in on themselves.”

  “Time travel isn’t exactly a thoroughly explored practice,” Steve said. “Do you mean intentional travel?”

  “Not exactly...”

  “Wait, Jess.” Mel’s tone darkened. “Did something else happen we should know about?”

  “No.” She cleared her throat and shook her head despite no one actually being there to see it. “No, I’d just heard something in passing. It kinda piqued my interest, so I figured I’d ask around.”

  ‘Good work shoving it all back under the rug again.’

  They don’t know anything, so it doesn’t matter.

  And there was no point in pursuing it and only worrying them further. Having told them she’d be stepping through the Gateway in three days with a fae no one really trusted had done enough of that on its own.

  “Jess, we have to go.” Mel sounded on the verge of another angry breakdown. “I’ve got someone calling on the other line.”

  Jessica smirked. “Someone else I know?”


  “It’s the gallery, actually.” There was no mistaking the unamused condescension in the other witch’s voice.

  “Right. I’ll let you guys go, then. Thanks for the heads-up and everything.”

  “Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need us,” Steve added hastily. “We’re here for you.”

  That was weird coming from a magical she’d only just met that morning but who had obviously known about her and her purpose for a hell of a lot longer. But she couldn’t exactly be picky about her friends or her allies at this point, could she?

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “Stay safe, Jess,” Cedrick muttered.

  “You too.”

  The call ended, and Jessica puffed out a sigh as she tossed her phone onto the couch cushion beside her.

  ‘Well that was interesting.’

  “Your love of understatements really doesn’t do you justice.”

  The bank tittered. ‘Hey, I’m not the one who tried to hide from the world in a little tin box. Think of it this way. You don’t actually have to try to make new friends. You’ve already got those two lovebirds in your corner.’

  “Ew. Don’t.”

  ‘And it’s a lot harder to hide from them. Hey, maybe you should take one of them through the Gateway with you. You know, to keep you honest.’

  With a snort, Jessica stood and took up a slow, contemplative pace across her room between the bay window and the back of the couch. “That’s never gonna happen.”

  ‘It was a joke.’

  “Well your punchlines are falling short.” Finally, she stopped beside her twin-sized bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “We’re actually going to do this, aren’t we?”

  ‘Nope. You’re going to do it, and you’re going to drag that fae along behind you like an obedient little puppy. Ever trained a puppy?’

  The absurdity of that question made her lips twitch into a wry smile. “You know, I guess I just never really found the time.”

  ‘Yeah, me neither. Hey, but at least you hold the reins on all this now. Better find some way to whip the fae into shape before you pass through.’

  Sure. Way easier said than done.

  Except for it really wasn’t anymore, was it? Not with Jessica’s magic fully restored. Leandras had said it himself this morning, when she’d thought he’d double-crossed her again after he’d shown up with that damn coin in his hand and tried to make his demands for how she was to use it. If it came to blows between them, they both knew he wouldn’t have a chance in hell at taking her down. Not before she crushed him.

  Her advantage here might even trump the one she’d seized by offering to swear a binding.

  ‘And he’ll have the home-team advantage. Definitely an “I” in team for the fae, right? I bet that’s even how he spells it.’

  Jessica frowned. “You’re throwing sports terms at me now?”

  ‘Why not? Organized sports make about as much sense as you walking into another world.’ The bank tsked. ‘Man, I wish I could see what’s on the other side. Birthplace of magic. My home too, if we’re getting technical about where all this came from. And yours.’

  “And what would you do in a different world, huh? Settle down with a good-looking bar and make tiny building babies?”

  ‘Don’t make me laugh. That’s impossible.’

  “Oh, okay. So that’s where we’re drawing the line.” Jessica closed her eyes and let her body relax. Her shoulders slumped forward as she propped her forearms on her thighs and stared at the rough grain of the wood floor at her feet.

  This was really happening, and now everything was out in the open. For the most part. No doubt the rest of Colorado’s Laenmúr faction and however many others were directly connected to them would know by the end of the day that the Guardian had relinquished first rights and meant to pass through as a guide for the fae who only eventually kept his word.

  And then what? They’d start mobilizing? How long would these self-proclaimed loyalists sit around and wait for word that Jessica Northwood and Leandras Vilafor had succeeded? Or failed?

  ‘As long as it takes,’ the bank muttered, all traces of humor gone from its voice now. ‘They’ve been waiting for centuries. Not specifically the magicals you know now, but the Laenmúr on its own. They can wait a little longer.’

  Right. Hopefully, Jessica wouldn’t have to wait longer than the three days Leandras had promised her. Hopefully, Mickey Hargraves’ friends wouldn’t come storming into her bank looking for revenge. Hopefully, the rest of the magical world who wanted to see Jessica fail—the Requiem, Jensen Ardis, and whoever else—would get the hint eventually. The time for negotiating with the Guardian for their own personal gain was over.

  That was a lot of hope for what felt way too much like a hopeless situation.

  ‘Like that ever stopped you before. Come on, witch. Don’t get moody now. Honestly, I thought you’d be freaking out at this point.’

  “Yeah, me too.” She smoothed her hair away from her face and sat up straight on the bed.

  Maybe this was just the aftershock she’d been waiting for—the truth finally settling in now that she had a rare moment of quiet and calm before the storm.

  Or maybe she’d just fully returned to the emotionally numb version of herself that had grown up in a transient flight across the country, found a home with a group of unlikely and disparate criminals just like herself, and done unspeakable things in the struggle to survive.

  Maybe she was just looking for excuses not to think about what she’d done or what she might have to do in the immediate future.

  ‘Black and white don’t really separate at this point, Jessica. I’m pretty sure there won’t exactly be a line between them once you step through that portal, either.’

  No. No more black and white.

  Just green.

  ‘Green? What’s that about?’

  “Green smoke from the Gateway, I guess.” She shrugged. “Green magic in the vault, too, right?”

  ‘Yeah, but that’s... Oh. You know, I really don’t like what you’re insinuating with the connection, there.’

  “Didn’t realize I was insinuating anything.”

  ‘I am not the other side of that door, witch.’

  “And I didn’t say—”

  ‘You know what, if you’re gonna throw a bunch of hairbrained accusations around,’ the bank shouted, its voice growing thinner and increasingly more urgent, ‘maybe you do need some time to yourself!’

  “Whoa. Where is this coming from—”

  ‘It’s coming from your head, asshole. How about you screw it on straight and cut that shit out?’

  The floorboards trembled beneath Jessica’s feet. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  The tremor racing through her room intensified, rattling Jessica as she clutched the edge of the mattress and looked around with wide eyes. The framed picture of her and Mel she still hadn’t figured out what to do with toppled over on the dresser and bounced across the surface until it crashed to the floor with a tinkle of shattered glass.

  Pottery crashed with a hollow pop, and she turned to see her potted bamboo plant lying sideways on the bench in the bay window, the small pebbles that had lined it now spilled out across the ledge. The lamp on her nightstand popped and tossed up sparks, the overhead light flickered, and the bedroom door slammed with a resounding echo.

  “Hey!” She leapt to her feet and held her arms out for balance as the floor rippled beneath her. “What the hell got into you, huh? Cut it out!”

  The bank’s hissy-fit ended abruptly. A single drawn-out groan from the floorboards finalized whatever point the bank was trying to make, and the bedside lamp tilted slowly, as if pushed by an invisible finger just to spite her. Jessica lunged toward the thing, but it crashed to the floor before she could reach it and joined the mess of shattered lightbulb on the floor.

  She stared at it, blinking in surprise, and swallowed.

  “Are you done now?”

  The bank said not
hing.

  “Hey, if I said something or thought something that pissed you off this much, don’t you think that’s something we should actually talk about?” She looked slowly around the room. “You know, before I’m literally unreachable?”

  Still nothing.

  Great. And now she had another mess to clean up because Winthrop & Dirledge decided to let its weirdly adolescent emotions run the show.

  Shaking her head, Jessica crossed the bedroom, fully intending to head all the way downstairs for a broom and dustpan. Not like the bank was gonna drop those out of the ceiling to help her out.

  A sharp sting bit into her neck again. Without thinking, she slapped at the glowing rune branded on her flesh and hissed.

  Not now. Whatever this thing brought with it in terms of side effects, she did not have the time or the patience to deal with it.

  The next time she blinked, the light in her bedroom had darkened, like someone had just flipped a switch to dim the lights. Or like the early-afternoon sun had just moved across the sky with impossible speed. The knot in Jessica’s gut tightened when she spun around to face the bay window.

  A thin sliver of golden sunlight spilled beneath the awning of the bank’s front façade, casting a thin beam across the floor.

  “No way.”

  Jessica darted around the couch and fumbled to snatch up her phone. No missed calls, but she already knew what had happened before her gaze focused on the time in the center of her lock-screen—4:12 p.m.

  “Fuck.”

  Chapter 5

  How long was this going to keep happening? She’d already lost two hours before the call with Mel, and now another two and change had raced past her in the blink of an eye. Literally.

  Try not to fiddle with the rune, huh?

  For as useful as Leandras had been in the last twenty-four hours, Jessica had the distinct impression now that the fae’s final warning before he’d disappeared again was nothing more than one more attempt to mess with her.