The Cursed Fae (Accessory to Magic Book 2)

by Kathrin Hutson

  ‘Can’t deny it’s a good conversation opener, though. This fae knows how to shine the spotlight.’

  Yeah, on himself.

  Jessica slowly shook her head, frowning even as she couldn’t look away from Leandras’ glowing, fully silver eyes. “I’m guessing you’re not about to take this down the alien road. Please don’t try to convince me you’re an alien.”

  He gave her a tiny shrug. “The definition of alien in its truest sense is one who does not belong. A foreigner.”

  ‘Alien. Noun. A foreigner, especially one who is not a naturalized citizen of the country where they are living.’

  She pressed her lips together and exhaled slowly through her nose. Yeah, but that definition doesn’t say anything about worlds. What did you do? Absorb a dictionary or something?

  ‘Oh, man. If I had a running list of everything that’s disappeared under these floorboards… Whew. We’d never finish.’

  Jessica shook her head. “So no aliens. And you’re about to tell me which world you are from.”

  Leandras licked his cracked lips again. “You already know the answer to that. Perhaps not in such distinct terms as I know it.”

  A flurry of excitement mixed with confusion and a dash of pissed-off swirled around in her gut. That was why the guy was so interested in the Gateway, in the coin, in figuring out more about her and why she was here as the new owner the bank had chosen after Tabitha. That was probably why he’d been tasked with the keeping of that coin—according to what everyone else who’d tried to get their hands on the thing had said—and maybe why the bank had almost imploded the minute the coin had touched Leandras’ fingers.

  ‘And that’s why I don’t like him…’ the bank mused.

  Jessica swallowed. “You came from the Gateway.”

  “Indeed.” He finally looked away from her, just for a brief moment, but it seemed a lot like he was fighting with himself over giving her this information she didn’t think she was supposed to have. “And the gúlmai is what has allowed me to remain here as long as I have, with the Gateway sealed, in full possession of my magic. That is, of course, until you became the new owner of this establishment and the Guardian next in line to defend it.”

  She slumped back in her chair. “You’re telling me you brought a box from a completely different world over here to fuel your magic, and you lost it?”

  “I’ve done no such thing, and I believe we’ve already covered that.”

  “So someone stole it.”

  “No.” Leandras cleared his throat three times in quick succession, obviously discomforted physically and mentally now by the turn of this conversation. “It’s in a very safe place, I assure you.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem, Jessica, is that when you refused to give me the sigil—the coin—after the first phase of the reckoning was activated, various…organizations with which I have certain ties took it upon themselves to credit me with the reckoning’s current stasis.”

  “Okay, maybe you’re from whatever world is on the other side of that door, but you definitely speak English.” Jessica rolled slightly away from him and had to stop when the back of her chair thumped against the edge of the desk. “Go ahead and use plain English, huh? The kind used in this century.”

  ‘It’s all an act for this guy,’ the bank muttered. ‘I’ve been around longer than him, and I’ve got the lingo on fleek.’

  No you don’t. Don’t ever say that again.

  Leandras closed his eyes with a short, abrupt exhale. “You kept the coin. I was supposed to have it. The Gateway was supposed to be open by now, and the magical organizations very much like those we encountered last week now blame me for the fact that it isn’t. Is that plain enough for you?”

  “Better, at least.” She spread her arms and set them down on the armrests again. “But it doesn’t explain why you didn’t lose your gúlmai and it wasn’t stolen but you still need me to get it.”

  “They came after me, Jessica. They came looking for me while I was…away tending to other business, and when I returned, the gúlmai was in someone else’s possession.”

  “So they did take it.”

  “No. They’re merely guarding it and waiting for my return.”

  Okay, now they were getting somewhere. Jessica nodded slowly. “And if you go back for it, you won’t have your power source to fight them off.”

  ‘Yep. He’s fucked.’

  “Please don’t call it that.” Leandras closed his eyes and held up a hand to stop her. “It’s such a childish description.”

  “Well maybe you shouldn’t have left the thing unprotected—”

  “It is protected. Immensely. These magicals aren’t trying to get their hands on it for their own use. It simply doesn’t work that way.”

  Jessica looked down at the floor beside his armchair, where the contents of the back shelves had been scattered all over the place by Mickey presumably flying through the air into them. “You had enough magic to fight a Matahg on your own.”

  “Yes, and we’ve both seen the product of what little magic I still maintain.” He gestured toward the destroyed office and raised his eyebrows. “It may look like that room experienced a certain level of concentrated damage, but I can assure you I sustained more of it than the walls.”

  True. He’d been charred and fried and thrown across the room before literally falling through the door. All because his magic was sputtering out like an empty tank of gas. And a lot of damage could still be done to a car’s engine when it was pushed too far on empty.

  ‘Oh, now you’re into car analogies? You’ve never even owned a car.’

  Shop class in seventh grade. Looks like you’re skimping on running through the whole story beginning to end.

  ‘Well when there’s a massive gap there right in the middle, how am I supposed to know where to look?’

  They weren’t going to talk about Jessica’s missing memories or the dreams that seemed to be shoving them back into her mind. Totally different problem and definitely the wrong time.

  ‘Not if you need your magic to get the fae’s.’

  I don’t. I’ll be fine.

  Leandras’ thin, manicured eyebrows slowly drew together; he must’ve picked up on whatever expression Jessica adopted when she was speaking mano a mano with the bank.

  ‘Yeah. Completely blank. Makes you look like a vegetable.’

  Shut up!

  “Okay, fine.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “So these guys— Is it the Requiem or Jensen’s people?”

  “Among others, most likely.” The fae gave her an even more pitiful shrug. “There’s really no telling precisely who has communicated with whom since you decided to play the new Guardian who has no idea what she’s doing.”

  “Yeah, that happens when nobody tells me what I need to know. I have to figure it out on my own.” If she hadn’t been sitting with her back to the desk, she would’ve looked right down at that center drawer she’d welded shut with her magic. With the coin inside. Maybe she’d keep the chairs here just like this for a while. “And trust me, I figured out pretty damn quickly that you are not supposed to have that coin.”

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  “I understand you may believe you know the difference between what is and is not supposed to happen moving forward,” Leandras said slowly, leaning slightly forward in the armchair. “But I have both sides of the story and a far greater understanding of what’s at stake.”

  “You mean both sides of the Gateway.”

  “Feel free to look at it however you like.” The fae sat back again and puffed out a sigh, like all the energy he’d had left was just used for his failed attempt to convince her of anything.

  And Jessica wasn’t convinced. She knew he could tell her what she needed to know about the Gateway. He wouldn’t have sworn a binding otherwise; the consequences of breaking it with a lie were too severe. But unless he showed her some hard evidence of why the Gateway was su
pposed to be open now and why she needed his help in doing so, she had to take that claim of his with a grain of salt. Hard evidence was pretty damn important.

  ‘And somehow, you still got locked up for a year without it. Huh. How does that work?’

  She ignored the bank, drumming her fingertips on her thighs just to keep herself focused on the conversation with the sentient being she could actually see. “We can get to all those details later. After you have your gúlmai and get back to…normal.”

  A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “It doesn’t sound like you prefer my normal.”

  “Yeah, well, I want you to die even less. This place has already eaten up too many bodies as it is—”

  “Really?” Leandras’ smile widened. “Eaten.”

  Rolling her eyes, Jessica turned around and snatched her water glass off the desk before taking a long drink. How had she found herself in a double conversation with a fae and a bank who couldn’t stick to one topic all the way through?

  “The gúlmai, Leandras.” She set the glass down on her thigh and nodded. “That’s what we’re talking about. And you want me to go find it and break through this trap the Requiem and Jensen and whoever else set for you. Did I sum it up correctly, or is there some other piece of crucial information you haven’t thought about sharing with me yet?”

  “No.” The fae’s smile slowly faded. “I’d say that sums it up quite well.”

  “Great. Where is it?”

  “My home.”

  Jessica’s eyes widened. She did not want to have to go storming through this fae’s house. It didn’t matter that he’d stormed into hers on numerous occasions at this point. Swapping homes brought the relationship they didn’t have to a whole new level of intimacy she didn’t want with anyone right now. “You keep the source of your magic’s power locked up in your house?”

  “And where would have been a better place for it, hmm? Certainly not here.” He scoffed and gestured vaguely toward the lobby. “With the way this place seems to be malfunctioning so atrociously lately, I’d already be dead.”

  ‘Malfunctioning? Malfunctioning?’

  Just let it go.

  ‘This pointy-eared meat sack has another thing coming if he thinks I’ll let that go.’

  For now, bank. Hold your grudges for later, huh?

  “Fine.” Jessica sighed. “Go ahead and pull out your tiny notebook again and write down the address.”

  “I would recommend a certain level of preparation beforehand, Jessica.”

  “You mean beyond this conversation? Great. What?”

  “My current home is… How do I put this without making it sound like I’m sending you on a suicide mission?”

  He had to be fucking joking.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jessica’s fist clenched around the glass in her hand, and she glared at Leandras as he scanned the ceiling of the lobby, apparently looking for the right words. He was loving every second of this, she knew. Especially the part where he was sending her into apparently serious danger and knew she couldn’t refuse. Because she needed his knowledge about the Gateway. And she needed him to not fucking die in her bank.

  “Your home is what, Leandras?” Now she sounded like she was growling. “Just say it already.”

  “It’s highly protected, as I’ve said.” His silver gaze drifted slowly down toward her face again. “Advanced security with a complicated network of wards and no small amount of necromantic hexes.”

  She nearly leapt out of her chair. “Why the fuck would you put necromantic hexes around your home?”

  The fae looked at her like she’d just sprouted wings and horns and two extra pairs of arms. “To discourage potential invaders from making a repeated attempt. Clearly.”

  “That’s not discouragement. That’s murder.”

  “Just as illegal and immoral as breaking and entering with the intent to take what does not rightfully belong to them. And I’m only concerned about the ramifications of one of those.”

  This was insane. He was insane. And now, with the binding and the fact that she had nowhere else to go, Jessica was locked into this extra arrangement just to save his fae ass so she could get what she needed.

  ‘Wow. Guess he played you like you used to play everyone else back in the day, huh?’

  Not the time for commentary.

  ‘It’s always time for commentary, and you—’

  “Stop!” It finally exploded out of her, out loud, for Leandras to hear and probably think she’d lost her mind because of it.

  Well, they could just toss that onto the pile of their magic tucked away in boxes and their shared urgency to get things moving again with the reckoning and whatever the hell else they had in common. Sure. Jessica could be insane if it meant putting all this bullshit to rest.

  She took another long drink of water, closing her eyes because she didn’t want to see Leandras’ all-silver eyes focused on her with that creepy fae stare of his.

  “I’m surprised you feel so passionately about the moral implications of this specific endeavor,” Leandras said softly. “Considering the lack of that same passion last week with a few dozen bodies lying on this very floor.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Is it, Jessica?”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you.” She drained the rest of her water, then managed to compose herself again. “So how do I get through the death traps you set to break through the death trap someone else set for you?”

  “Well, it doesn’t have an Off switch, if that’s what you’re asking. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No you’re not.”

  His lips twitched again into a playful smirk that just looked so wrong on his cracked lips and beneath his dangerously sunken eyes and hollowed cheekbones. “I assumed you would have had some notion of how to perform such an extraction. You seem like the kind of witch perfectly suited for the task.”

  Jessica froze and stared unblinkingly at him.

  No. He wasn’t about to come right out and say it. Not now. He had to still be screwing with her, because that was what the fae who still looked good in wrinkled, stained satin suits just liked to do. Okay, who looked good when he wasn’t dying in her armchair.

  She swallowed and muttered through clenched teeth. “Why would you assume that?”

  “Because you’re a vestrohím.”

  Fuck. He said it.

  “Don’t take it personally, Jessica. I understand the urge and even the necessity for keeping certain secrets the way they are. But you did openly use a very specific form of magic last week when we were attacked. And yes, despite my focus on disabling the magicals intent on whisking me away against my will, I most certainly noticed.”

  ‘Yup. You totally thought everyone who saw that was dead.’

  So did you.

  ‘Touché.’

  Jessica forced her breathing to remain steady and managed a thirty-second staring contest with the fae who thought he had her all figured out. At least he didn’t know about half of her magic secreted away in a box of her own.

  “We’re not talking about that either.”

  “As you wish.” Leandras started to smile again, but it morphed instantly into a grimace, and he shifted in the armchair and closed his eyes. “I do request that you get started as soon as possible. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I have very little time.”

  “Fine.” She stood from the office chair and glared at him.

  He was too consumed by his pain to open his eyes again, so she just kept going.

  “Write down everything I need to know so I can pick it apart when I get there.” She grabbed his fancy fountain pen off the desk and tossed it into his lap. “And don’t forget the address.”

  Leandras’ fingers moved slowly to close around the pen. “It won’t take me long.”

  Jessica gazed around the lobby, taking in all the destruction she hadn’t had the time to repair or clean up. “Good. Wish I could say the
same, but I have no idea what this is gonna—”

  She froze when she saw the completely darkened window at the front of the bank. It shouldn’t have been that dark right now. The sun set just before six this time of year. There was no way they’d been sitting here for two and a half hours.

  “Was there an intentional ending to that sentence,” Leandras muttered, “or am I supposed to guess?”

  Like some cosmic joke, Jessica’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, and she pulled it out to first look at the time—7:41 p.m. Not two and a half hours, then. Four and a half.

  Did you do this, bank?

  ‘No idea. Maybe. It’s kinda like a fart, I guess. Sometimes you notice it, sometimes you don’t, but it’s really hard to do it on command.’

  She clenched her eyes shut and let the outrageous analogy slide. Time had already been something of an unnaturally fluid thing since she’d taken over as the new owner. And it wasn’t even a little reassuring to know the bank had no control over it.

  Leandras let out a loud sigh. “Jessica?”

  “I’m just realizing we have less time than I thought.” It came out a little louder than a whisper, and the sound of the fae moving abruptly in the armchair made her turn around.

  He stared at her with wide eyes, finally looking as terrified as he’d apparently wanted to make her feel with all this flippant talk of wards and goddamn necromancy. “I don’t understand.”

  She gestured toward the front window. “Completely dark. Quarter past seven now, apparently. So if you were serious about not making it through the night without your little power box, we need to get moving right now.”

  Leandras slowly turned his head to gaze at the window and the black sky broken by the single streetlamp across the street. His upper lip twitched in irritation. “Yes. I suppose we do.”

  “Write it down.” Jessica glanced down at her phone as she stormed toward the back hallway.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  Somewhere else. I have to at least make it look like I have a plan.

  ‘Yeah, but that’s bullshit.’

  Of course it was. But Jessica had always been good at last-minute plans, for the most part.