Leandras dipped his head toward her, and she almost let herself get lost in his lips and his arms and the scent of him that had definitely changed. Something less...threatening, at least.
But the buzz of her phone vibrating in the pocket of her jeans across the room made her pull back. “Hold on.”
He chuckled. “Whoever it is can wait.”
She bit her lip and waited for the continuing buzz that never came. Just a text, then.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t still important. The bank had proven that quite recently.
“Can they, though?”
“Hmm?” He wasn’t listening; he was burying his head in the dip between her neck and shoulder and setting her on fire all over again.
Who knew a fae’s lips could be used as a weapon?
“Okay, stop.”
“Jessica, there is nothing at the moment to—”
“Stop and listen to me.” A blast of heat flared through her hands when she nudged him away, and he immediately released her, his eyes wide.
No disappointment there. Just fear.
And two black handprints against his chest where she’d touched him that were already fading quickly.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry.” Jessica stared at her hands. “I didn’t—”
“More than a few things to grow reaccustomed to.” Leandras looked down at his chest and gently swiped at the last traces of black practically burned into him. “No harm done.”
“No, that’s definitely harm.”
“It is a product of the Thon-Rothím, Jessica. Nothing more.”
“It wasn’t supposed to turn me into a fae-burning cattle prod.”
“Fae prod, perhaps?”
“What?” She looked sharply up at him and couldn’t believe Leandras was actually smiling. And now laughing. “Okay, you can joke all you want, but you can’t seriously think any of this is funny.”
“It’s not, Jessica. I’m sure there will be more surprises as we move forward, but quite honestly, I feel far too good to let a few unexpected effects interfere. I feel...” His took a deep breath, his smile growing as he shook his head. “Alive.”
“Yeah. You’re definitely not dead.”
And Jessica was pretty damn close to taking dark, torturous master to a whole new level she didn’t want.
She stood and stormed across the room toward their clothes, her bare feet slapping against the wood.
“Why are you so angry?” Leandras called after her, more than an appropriate level of amusement in his voice.
That appropriate level was zero right now, but he didn’t seem to get that.
“I’m not angry.” She snatched up all their clothes and chucked his shirt into his lap, followed by his slacks. “I’m...”
What? What was she?
“Just get dressed.”
“Of course.” His constant chuckling just wouldn’t let up.
She could ignore it. She had to, because it felt like he was laughing at her even though she knew that wasn’t anywhere close to the truth.
The fae was happy to be alive. Jessica was too, but now she had to deal with this awesome new ability to literally burn him whenever she lost her temper. Which, when this particular fae was concerned, was pretty frequently.
They dressed themselves in silence, and Jessica grabbed her phone from her back pocket to check the text that had broken up yet another private moment.
It was from Steve.
We’re ready. Every chapter we could reach has sent a representative ahead for tonight’s meeting. The rest will be there once we decide when to move forward. I’m glad it worked.
“Little shit.”
“I know you’re not referring to me.” Smirking again, Leandras stared unabashedly at her as he finished buttoning up his shirt.
“No. Actually.” Jessica snorted and read the message over one more time. “Apparently, we’re holding a meeting tonight.”
“Oh? What appropriate timing.” He finished tucking in his shirt, then smoothed his hair away from his forehead with both hands. “You’re not going to insist on taking one of those car services, are you?”
“You’re not teleporting me either, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”
“Jessica, I’m not a particular fan of walking in the cold—”
“It’s here. The meeting’s here.” She waved her phone at him even though he couldn’t possibly see Steve’s text. “Tonight. In the bank.”
“I see.” His coy smile was gone now, but he didn’t look in the least bit worried about the impending arrival of who knew how many magicals from how many Laenmúr chapters. Turning slowly, Leandras’ gaze settled on the bowl of leftover enslavement to the Dalu’Rázj and slowly cocked his head. “I suppose I ought to dispose of this beforehand.”
“Great idea.” Sarcasm dripped from Jessica’s words, and still, the surprisingly chipper Laen’aroth didn’t seem to notice any of it.
Like he was a completely different fae.
Probably because he was.
They’d just ripped him apart and put him back together again with her magic instead of the last monster’s, not to mention the physical aftermath of binding themselves together the way they had. Not that she was complaining, but...
“Leandras?”
He paused in his crouch beside the bowl and looked up at her with nothing but tame curiosity.
“I just have one question first.”
“By all means.” Nothing in his perfectly contented smile indicated he was thinking or feeling anything else.
Maybe now wasn’t the time to ask, but she didn’t think she’d be able to let this one go. The last thing she wanted was to host another Laenmúr meeting she hadn’t called while being distracted the whole time by a question she hadn’t asked.
“You said you wanted to step out of your...prison the same way you walked into it.”
“Yes.” He cocked his head and shot her a playful frown. “I assumed you’d abandoned your aversion to nudity after...everything else.”
If he didn’t stop looking at her like that, they’d never leave this room and miss one very important meeting downstairs altogether.
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“You haven’t asked me a thing yet.”
Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Now the old, obnoxiously literal Leandras who liked to screw with her had returned.
Fuck it.
“Obviously, this wasn’t the first time you’ve...sworn your loyalty.”
Leandras’ eyes narrowed, and his smirk intensified in a way that made Jessica feel incredibly stupid for wanting to know. “Correct.”
“So, the last time.” She cleared her throat, trying to look completely indifferent and not horrified by her own curiosity when she shrugged and pursed her lips. “It didn’t...you know. End the same way. Right?”
The fae stared at her, then a strangled laugh burst from his mouth before he cut it off halfway. “With the Dalu’Rázj?”
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “Yeah.”
“You must be joking.”
“Not really.” Her gaze flittered around the room before landing on him again. “Not even a little, actually. It’s a serious question.”
Leandras turned his secretive smile onto the bowl, lifted it in both hands, then stood. Jessica thought he’d walk right past her and out the door without answering, just to toy with her a little longer until she forced him to spit it out. Which they both knew she could actually do now.
But he stopped beside the dresser to set down the bowl, then slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her roughly against him.
His kiss was just as rough.
The Laen’aroth was apparently a major fan of showing his affection when he wasn’t trying to hide from a master bent on destroying worlds.
And Jessica was tempted yet again to ditch the meeting and finally take Leandras to her actual bed instead of the floor or a lumpy mattress downstairs or a pile of g
iant cushions.
When he pulled away and fixed her with another hungry stare that basically said the same thing, Jessica almost told him to forget the question. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he leaned down to brush his lips against her ear. His breath sent another shuddering ripple of desire through her and, yeah, probably some goosebumps.
“No, Jessica,” he whispered. “Your method of claiming what’s yours is entirely...unique.”
Without looking at her, he stepped away to retrieve the bowl from the dresser, then took it with him out of the room.
Jessica stared at the blank wall in front of her. A surprised laugh burst free before she could even think about cooling off after that.
Entirely unique, huh?
Good.
At least she wasn’t just like the Dalu’Rázj, and if anyone would know the difference, it was Leandras. And clearly, he preferred her methods.
She bit her lip, didn’t try to rationalize any of it, and just accepted the win.
By the time they’d cleaned up all evidence of the massively powerful Thon-Rothím spell and tried to make the bank lobby look relatively presentable, Jessica remembered for the first time that the bank was probably still waiting for her to strap the pendant around her neck again.
And give her an earful.
She was right on both counts.
‘What the actual—Are you kidding me?’
“Says the sentient building who thought it was a good idea to call another meeting tonight. Without asking.”
‘No, no, no. We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and Mr. Stabby gettin’ down and dirty. And yeah, that includes the creepy spell too.’
Jessica leaned over the nightstand still stuffed into her bathroom to peer at her reflection and run her fingers through her hair. It wasn’t like the Laenmúr were expecting a perfectly put-together Guardian this close to the finish line, but still.
“Nothing to talk about.”
‘You’re one insanely thick-headed witch, witch.’ The bank cackled. ‘Shit. I thought I was seeing things, but no... That was... Whew! I almost had to turn off the lights.’
“What?”
‘Uh-huh. You know what I’m talkin’ about.’
“Nope. And in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a reason I took this thing off before...we started.”
‘No shit. I wouldn’t want me hanging around in your head either through all that. Wish I had a picture, though. You know, something to whip out and toss in your face when you start getting too big for your fae-master britches.’
Jessica laughed harshly and closed her bedroom door before hurrying down the hall. “You wish.”
‘I really do. About damn time someone invented cameras for those of us without hands. Or eyes. Totally doable.’
The bell over the front door jingled when she reached the top of the stairs.
Okay, someone’s here. So we’ll table this conversation forever and focus on what actually matters.
The bank puffed out a sigh. ‘Fine. Epic battle almost impossible to win and all that. I get it. But I have to ask. How does it feel? It’s gotta be a trip, right?’
She moved quickly down the back hall toward the lobby and stopped dead at the sight of at least twenty Laenmúr reps standing in her bank and waiting for the Guardian to make an appearance.
‘Jessica?’
It’s fucking peachy, okay? Focus.
The bank had enough tact to quit badgering her, and Jessica stepped slowly into the lobby.
Leandras stood beside the desk, listening intently to a muttered conversation between two changelings. That conversation and all the others stopped the second Jessica’s guests realized she’d finally joined them. And all eyes turned toward the Guardian.
Of course they did.
“Hey.” Jessica wanted to slap herself silly for leading with one stupidly casual greeting, but again, she’d been remarkably unprepared for this. “Um...thanks for coming. I guess everybody’s heard by now that we have what we need for...”
The bell jingled again, and in stepped Steve, Mel, and Cedrick. Cedrick widened his eyes at the number of magicals crammed into this single room and raised his eyebrows at Jessica as all three of them skirted along the bookshelves to get a better view.
None of this had quite hit home until her friends entered the picture.
This was the end. The last calm before the giant storm they’d either trap in an eternal prison or under which they’d be shredded and obliterated without any second chances.
Jessica’s words completely failed her.
‘Hey, good speech. Hell of a morale booster.’
She couldn’t even snap back at the bank. All she could do was stare at Mel and Cedrick, because they were part of this too, whether she liked it or not, and they’d be following her into the chaos.
Just like they always did.
Leandras cleared his throat and shot Jessica a quick frown before taking over.
Major points for the Laen’aroth.
“The items for our final stand are right here beside me. I assume you all know the spell the Guardian intends to cast. With your aid, of course. But I’m happy to answer any questions personally once we’ve reached a unanimous agreement on strategy. First...”
His words faded away beneath the rush in Jessica’s ears when Mel met her gaze and smiled thinly.
All smiles would be thin from here on out, wouldn’t they? Especially during this meeting that had all but turned the lobby of Winthrop & Dirledge Security Banking into a war room.
‘Someone had to get them here,’ the bank muttered. ‘You were too busy “claiming what’s yours—”’
That entire ritual, beginning to end, is off limits. Try that again, and I’m flushing this pendant down the toilet.
‘You know I could just pull it out again and throw at you, right?’
Yeah, after you choke on it first.
‘Huh...’
Jessica shoved both hands into the back pockets of her jeans and tried as hard as she could to pay attention to the plans Leandras laid out, to the suggestions offered by the Laenmúr representing at least twenty different groups, and to the exact details of what they were preparing for and what they’d be up against.
Including the unanimous consensus on when they’d make their move and stop waiting for the Dalu’Rázj to bring his ravaging war from Xahar’áhsh to this world.
She almost choked when every hand in the room lifted in front of a grimly determined face and sealed their decision.
“Finally.” Leandras broke into a haughty smile in the face of their imminent battle. “Something to which we all agree.”
Low, not-ungrateful chuckles filled the lobby as the Laenmúr representatives nodded. Clearly, everyone approved of the Laen’aroth’s procedures. He was the leader in this room. Not Jessica.
Still, the fae rapped his knuckles on the surface of the desk and turned toward her. “What says the Guardian?”
She blinked furiously and met his gaze. When she nodded, she felt like a bobble-head doll. “We all agree.”
A brief frown flickered across his eyebrows. Yes, she’d parroted his exact words, but anything else would have been ridiculous. He clearly knew her head wasn’t entirely in the game.
Then again, this wasn’t the Laen’aroth’s first war. Most likely, he wasn’t the only magical in this room to claim that kind of veteran status, either.
Leandras turned quickly back to face the gathering and nodded. “Then it’s decided.”
It sure was.
They wouldn’t have to wait much longer at all. Finally, an entire faction of magicals willing to follow the Guardian into a final battle from which they might never return would be bringing that war to the Dalu’Rázj instead of the other way around.
This was what they’d all been waiting for, through Guardian after Guardian, for hundreds if not thousands of years. Now the wait was almost over.
First thing tomorrow morning, it would be.
Chapter 28
She’d thought having an army behind her wouldn’t make her feel so helpless.
To be perfectly honest, Jessica didn’t feel helpless at all.
She felt like she already had thousands of Laenmúr members’ blood on her hands, and blood hadn’t even been spilled yet.
Not including the fae’s.
Jessica had had an entire night to process what they were in for, but ten hours was nowhere near enough time to wrap her mind around an imminent slaughter. Plus, there was the whole thing about Jessica being the only one who needed to survive, because she was the only one who could withstand whatever magic the Dalu’Rázj summoned.
Her magic was almost exactly the same.
Except for her fantastic new ability to heal and bring magicals back from the dead, which hadn’t exactly been revealed to the other Laenmúr. Not even when over two hundred of them arrived promptly at 5:30 a.m. the next morning, as planned, to get this show on the road.
Apparently, Leandras, Mel, Cedrick, Steve, and the few other Colorado Laenmúr who’d heard Jessica’s story through the grapevine agreed that the fewer who knew about her fun little surprise, the better.
As the enormous gathering of magicals on their side waited for the signal to begin the spell, Mel sidled toward Jessica. The pink-haired witch gazed around the massive room and leaned closer to whisper, “Did you know this room existed?”
Jessica shot her a sidelong glance, half her attention focused on the three magicals—Steve among them—erecting the casting circle on a dais in the center of the room and completing their precision with the carefully placed Madraqór, Heart of Ithríl, and Umur’udal in their necessary positions. “You mean the giant, fully stocked and furnished basement conveniently big enough for a couple hundred Laenmúr like someone’s been planning this for years?”
Mel cleared her throat. “Um...yeah?”
“It didn’t exist until this morning, Mel.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” Jessica looked her friend straight in the eye and pointed at the vaulted ceiling. “The bank wanted to contribute. It’s helpful like that sometimes.”
The Spellcast Gate (Accessory to Magic Book 5) Page 29
