“What?” he whispered.
“You heard me. Is this actually what you want?”
The color drained from his face, making him look almost as sickly and near-death as when he’d run out of magic to fuel him and had needed Jessica’s help to steal back the rest of it.
Slowly, he nervously licked his lips and inhaled one long, slow, surprisingly deep breath through his nose. “Yes. I am prepared to—”
“Then walk me through it.”
Leandras’ eyes practically bulged from his head. “Jessica.”
“Okay, you seem confused. So I’ll spell it out for you. Yes. My answer is yes. So if you really want to do this, then I need to know exactly what’s going to happen and what I have to do to make sure we don’t screw it up like pretty much everything else. Everything. No beating around the bush and leaving out one tiny little detail that changes everything when you feel like spitting it out at the last second. Got it?”
There. She’d said it.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that she didn’t feel any better at all for actually having made the damn decision, but she couldn’t take it back.
The bank tittered. ‘There’s that ballsy vestrohím we know and love.’
Go back to shutting up, please.
‘Yep.’
Slowly, Leandras ran a hand through his hair and apparently couldn’t stop staring at her. But he didn’t say a word.
They should be getting down to business right now. Time being of the essence and everything.
The fae man looked absolutely terrified, which was completely understandable now that she thought about it.
Jessica had spent two days, a six-pack of lager, and a bottle of whiskey working up the courage to cast the Shattering on herself, and that made it even worse when she had to sober up before she could work the spell at all.
Admittedly, Leandras had even less time and no booze.
“Did you change your mind?” Jessica blurted.
“No. I merely...” He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I’m surprised, Jessica. I honestly hadn’t expected this.”
“You thought I’d turn you away.”
“To be perfectly honest, I had no idea what you would do.” A tiny smile flickered across his lips, but it was pained and fleeting and only added to how terrified he looked. “I realize this was a difficult decision.”
“You have no idea.”
Difficult to trust him, difficult to convince herself she wasn’t being a complete idiot, difficult to give him one last chance, especially when they both knew how much this was seriously going to suck.
Mel and her damn hypothetical truths that cut straight to the heart and left a person bleeding out on the floor.
Jessica could blame Mel all she wanted, but her friend had said the one thing that had tipped the scales of Jessica’s indecision. What Jessica had needed to hear, yeah. Definitely not what she’d wanted.
“So.” She shrugged.
Leandras dipped his head. “So.”
“Let’s not make this any harder by standing here staring at each other just to keep stalling, huh?”
Before he uttered his next word, he looked like he was about to choke on it. “Agreed.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Jesus, he was really going to make her take him by the hand and haul him through every single part of this, wasn’t he?
Fine.
“What do we need?”
“Chalk, if you have it. And salt.” The fae’s voice was flat now too, and he stared at her like he was looking right through her into something else. Probably his own reserve of courage for the agony waiting for him in the very near future. “Tabitha’s athame, which I believe is still in the desk drawer. And a bowl of water.”
“That’s it?” Jessica snorted. “No milk or human ashes? Maybe a dead puppy?”
‘I’m pretty sure animal sacrifices have to be alive when you bring ’em in,’ the bank said happily. ‘You know, when the blood’s still—’
Stop. Now.
Leandras didn’t look anything close to amused.
That might’ve been one of her worst jokes yet.
“Did the Shattering require a dead puppy as well?”
She glared at him and cocked her head.
“Nothing else, Jessica.” Leandras straightened, smoothed down the front of his black shirt, and nodded. “I will be fueling the rest of the Thon-Rothím, once it has begun. Then you will join me.”
“Right. Simple enough for the first step.” Jessica clapped her hands together and turned to eye the lobby. “Pretty sure we have all those things. Where do you wanna...do this?”
“It requires a good deal of open space.”
“Okay. I can hang some sheets over the windows or something. We’ll do it here in the lobby.”
‘Are you freaking nuts?’ the bank shrieked. ‘No way. Take him somewhere safe.’
This is literally the safest place for either of us right now, and you know it.
‘I don’t want fae guts all over my floor.’
You’ve had worse.
Jessica headed for the desk and jerked open the top righthand drawer with far more force than necessary. Amidst all the loose papers and completely ignored proposals for the Gateway’s first rights she’d obliterated completely, the blade of Tabitha’s ritual dagger glinted under the lights. She snatched it up, slammed the drawer shut again, and tightened her grip on the dagger’s handle when she noticed her hand was shaking.
Christ, this was really going to suck.
“Chalk,” she muttered, stepping back to reach for another drawer. “We need—”
A sharp pain jolted through the back of her head before something clattered to the floor behind her.
‘There.’
Jessica spun around and found a thick piece of bright-yellow sidewalk chalk rolling across the wooden floor toward the toe of her sneaker.
‘Chalk.’ The bank giggled. ‘Trying to save time, right?’
So you do know what’s on the shelves.
‘Eh, sometimes. Guess I’m just excited to watch all the action. So hurry up, huh?’
Excited. The bank was excited.
Sure, because the bank didn’t have to do anything for this spell and wouldn’t feel a damn thing in the process.
Jessica snatched up the yellow chalk and set it on the desk beside the knife.
Cupboards opened and closed in the kitchen, followed by the sink turning on as Leandras clearly handled the bowl of water and the salt.
Okay. Now she’d wait here for him to join her with the rest of their strangely simple supply list, and then they’d get to work.
‘Don’t forget the sheets.’
Right.
She started to walk toward the office, but the sound of Leandras clearing his throat behind her made her pause.
He’d stopped at the mouth of the hallway, his shoulders hunched over the bowl of water nestled in his arms and a ridiculously large container of Kosher salt in one hand.
Kosher salt. Tabitha had her reasons for everything, right?
“I have one small request, if I may.” The fae’s gaze remained firmly on the wooden floor at his feet.
“You mean besides me helping you rip your soul apart before you hand it to me?” The words were harsh and dripping with sarcasm, but Jessica just wasn’t operating at her best right now. Still, when Leandras’ only reply was to dip his head and grimace, she realized she’d overstepped with her own discomfort here.
This whole thing would be a hell of a lot worse for him than it could possibly be for her.
With a sigh, she headed back toward him and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m a little...off.”
“I understand.” He flicked his gaze up to meet hers. “As am I.”
“What else do you need?”
Leandras studied the lobby. “I’d prefer not to perform the Thon-Rothím right here. In the lobby.”
“Really?”
‘B
ooyah!’ The bank cackled. ‘See? I told you it was a bad idea.’
Jessica wished she had Tabitha’s dagger in her hand, but what was she going to do with it? Stab the floor and hope the bank screamed?
‘Hey...’
“The inventory in this room is incredibly valuable,” Leandras continued. “Most of it, at any rate. I’m concerned by the...aggressive nature of this spell. And I don’t believe either of us has the time or the mental stamina to sort through those shelves and remove the more priceless items before we continue.”
“You don’t wanna break my lobby.” Despite the tense urgency, Jessica cracked a small smile. “I appreciate that.”
“Well, I suppose I’ve come to appreciate this place slightly more than I anticipated.” The fae stared blankly at the box of salt in his hand.
“So if the lobby’s off limits, where did you have in mind? I’m pretty sure your apartment’s still out of the question. You know, with all the Requiem members and—”
“Not my apartment, Jessica. I was thinking...” Clearing his throat again, he looked up at her before slowly trailing his gaze up and up and up toward the ceiling. “Your bedroom.”
“My—” Jessica’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to process the suggestion. “Look, if you’re trying to get us into my bed, now’s really not the time.”
Leandras’ brief smile was tight and perfectly unamused.
Okay, so this had nothing to do with where they slept—together or separately.
Way to jump the inappropriate gun, Jessica.
“The room has sufficient space,” Leandras muttered.
“That’s where I live, Leandras.”
“I understand. I make this suggestion entirely for our greater benefit. More importantly, your bedroom is right here. In this establishment. Where you have already erected a certain safety behind security wards and where I believe we are currently safest from any...unwanted interruptions. Both of us.”
Damnit, those were all good points.
“Okay. Fine.” Jessica closed her eyes. “Just tell me right now so I know what to expect. Is this gonna tear the place apart?”
“There will be blood.”
She stepped back and shot a sidelong glance at the desk and Tabitha’s ritual knife just hanging out on the surface, waiting to be used.
“But nothing more than that,” he continued. “If we’re successful.”
“If?”
He shrugged.
“All right, listen. First step is to cut it out with the ifs. We’re doing this, and we’re gonna do it right, because you’re gonna walk me through everything until I could cast this spell on my own if I wanted.” Jessica stormed across the lobby to snatch up the dagger and the chalk. When she turned around, the fae stared at her with utter horror contorting his features. She spread her arms. “Not that I’d want to, obviously. This is your thing.”
He glanced at the items in her hands and tilted his head. “For the most part.”
“You’re just splitting hairs now.” Or pieces of his soul. Same thing. “Let’s go.”
The fae watched her intently as she crossed the lobby one final time, brushed past him into the hall, and headed purposefully up the stairs. Yes, her footsteps came down a little harder and louder than completely necessary, echoing up the staircase and eliciting several unsteady groans from the wood.
But stomping around was the only thing she had left to keep her feeling grounded and stupidly brave enough to go through with this.
Leandras followed but didn’t make a sound behind her.
THEY CLEARED ALL THE furniture that might get in the way, dragging everything into the bathroom but the bed, the insanely heavy dresser, and the gray couch that got a new temporary home against the far wall. Leandras took one look at the pink pig now housing her bamboo plant in the bay window, snorted, and shot her a questioning look. Jessica rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Ben’s heart had been in the right place when he’d replaced the broken pot, but she honestly kind of hoped the thing wouldn’t make it through the spell.
Then they sat on the floor in the center of the cleared-out circular room, and Leandras told Jessica everything she needed to know about the Thon-Rothím. He also included everything she didn’t need to know, like the gruesome steps he’d take that couldn’t be performed by anyone else and the exact way in which he’d bound his very life to the Dalu’Rázj. That did, in fact, include the details of how those ties would be severed, and Jessica looked forward to seeing it all happen even less after he’d finished.
Still, she made him repeat himself three more times with the excuse that she wanted this spell branded in her mind so nothing went wrong. Really, she was looking for any differences in his explanation—a tiny thing left out here, something seemingly small and innocuous added there. Hearing the exact same words four times in a row brought only a small amount of relief.
Leandras new what he was doing. And at least he wasn’t still trying to hide how this was supposed to work.
When she was satisfied with his lack of deception, they stood and went through the first few steps of preparation. Jessica walked around the room pouring out a line of salt where the floor met the walls, and Leandras got on his hands and knees to draw a remarkably intricate symbol on the wooden floor. She finished her task far before he did, so he directed her where to scatter more lines of salt within the casting circle he’d already drawn while he finished the design.
Once he’d finished, the thick stick of bright-yellow chalk was half its size.
He tossed it aside and grabbed the bowl of water and the ritual knife before setting them just so within the drawing Jessica didn’t understand. Leandras, though, looked like he knew exactly what he was doing.
She really, really hoped he did.
An hour after they’d come up to her bedroom, Leandras finally stood, stepped carefully out of the circle so as not to disturb the lines of chalk or salt, and dusted off his hands.
Jessica stared at the rune drawn painstakingly across the dark wood of her bedroom floor and folded her arms. “I’m not usually big on setting the mood with colors, but this just feels like a joke.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Happy-yellow. All Tabitha had was happy-yellow chalk.”
“Well feel free to add a smiley face when we’re finished.”
She snorted and looked quickly up at him in disbelief.
The fae looked just as uncomfortable about his bad joke as she always felt when she made them.
At least he was trying.
With a nod, he rolled his shoulders back and added, “I believe that’s all we need.”
“You believe?” There wasn’t any sarcasm this time in Jessica’s voice. All she wanted was to be one-hundred-percent sure they hadn’t left anything out. One slip, one fumbled word, one smudged line or curlicue ending in the wrong place, and there would be a lot more than Leandras’ blood in her room.
Probably the whole fae and a nice new coat of fresh Laen’aroth paint.
The bank snorted. ‘You know how morbid you are, right?’
Morbid and realistic are really good friends right now.
“I know,” Leandras replied, oblivious to the bank’s snide commentary. “It’s perfect. Everything is in place to begin.”
Under any other circumstances, that would have sounded like a really great place to start. All the prep-work completed, nothing out of place, two magicals completely willing to tear apart the fabric of existence to free one of them before binding him to the other. Even for the Thon-Rothím spell, setting everything up this perfectly in such a short amount of time should have at least brought a tiny bit of satisfaction.
Unfortunately, there was one last detail Leandras had left out of his repeated play-by-play. Its absence thickened the air between them with an anxious, awkward, tension.
One giant, highly significant, “this could go horribly wrong if we mess this up” detail, and Jessica stared at the Laen’aroth, waiting f
or him to provide the information. Otherwise, there would be no going forward with the Thon-Rothím at all.
And nothing about the fae’s scowl of concentration or his feverishly clenching jaw or his hands closing into fists and opening over and over again said he was willing to cough up the final piece.
Chapter 25
The suspense was killing her.
That saying was, of course, metaphorical. But if Leandras didn’t tell her what she needed to know, Jessica had no doubt whatsoever the metaphor would crumble and they’d both quite literally end up dead. Now, he was forcing her to pry it out of him.
“You know what you haven’t told me yet, right?”
“Yes, Jessica. I’m sure you’re well aware how difficult it would be for me to attempt describing one aspect with which I am entirely unfamiliar.”
She raised her eyebrows and tried so hard not to lash out at him again. “You’re unfamiliar with it. Okay. But how am I supposed to know what to do when it’s time for me to...you know. Do my part?”
Leandras bit down on his bottom lip and stared at the floor. “The way I understand it, your part arises from an inherent knowledge of what must be done.”
“What, like instinct or something?”
A wry chuckle escaped him. “Or something.”
“Leandras, I have no idea what that means. I’ve never done this before.”
“Nether have I.”
“Right but you know what you’re supposed to do. You basically have an instruction manual in your head. And I’m supposed to just feel my way through pulling you back together again and...” Jessica shrugged. She didn’t have to finish the sentence, which was helpful, because it sounded insane.
Make you mine.
That was what she was about to do, except there was apparently no guidebook for the asshole greedy enough—or desperate enough—to bind someone else’s fractured soul to their own for an entire lifetime.
“Feel your way through.” Leandras’ eyes widened. “Yes, that may be the most accurate description.”
“You have to give me something.” Jessica grabbed both sides of her head and stared at the perky-yellow casting rune taking up most of the bedroom’s floorspace between them. “If I can’t figure it out, we’re screwed.”
The Spellcast Gate (Accessory to Magic Book 5) Page 26
