‘You’ll be fine.’
I don’t think so, bank. The stairs creaked beneath her as she pulled herself up with a hand on the railing, the other clutched tightly around the metal box.
‘Hey, just so we’re on the same page. When you told the self-centered fae-head that we’d cover the rest tomorrow, you weren’t actually talking about all the rest, right?’
Like her memories returning to her all at once? Like the fact that something had undone the Peddler’s careful elimination of her life-threatening memories that had kept her safe and unseen and unnoticed for the last eight years?
‘Yeah, that.’
Jessica paused at the top of the staircase and glared at the studded metal door of the Gateway nestled at the end of the hall. Tendrils of sparkling green smoke slithered from beneath the door and curled up into the air, almost as if they beckoned her to approach. A low, growling chuckle seeped out with the smoke, rattling in her chest like a sound system blasting a baseline from a block away. She stared at the Gateway.
She hated the damn thing. And she had to protect it, because no one else would.
“Don’t even fucking try it,” she spat in a harsh whisper. As soon as the words left her lips, the glowing green tendrils sucked back under the door and plunged the hallway into darkness. The rumbling chuckle she wasn’t even entirely sure she’d heard with her ears—and not inside her head—cut off instantly.
‘It’s definitely your ears,’ the bank whispered. ‘I’m the only one in your head. At least as far as I know. I’m pretty sure.’
The Gateway didn’t act up again, even when Jessica gave it a moment longer to do whatever the hell it was trying to do with the smoke trick. So all it took was a little assertiveness on her part, huh? That would’ve been nice to know a little sooner.
‘Hey, it’s not like I’ve ever had the chance to flip it off.’
Yeah, this whole thing is trial and error, isn’t it?
Jessica shot the Gateway the middle finger, then jerked open her bedroom door on the right before closing it quickly behind her. Bracing herself against it, she took another deep breath and waited.
No more green glow or laughter from whatever asshole that dark, whispering voice belonged to on the other side. No more memories racing back into her. At least for now, all the surprises had stopped crashing down onto her head.
‘I don’t think there are any more memories, Jessica. I mean, I’m looking through all this right now, and the pieces line up like walking a straight line. When you’re sober. It’s all here.’
“That’s what I’m afraid of. And it shouldn’t be.” She headed for the gray couch in the center of her circular bedroom and dropped down into it with a huff. More than anything, she had to stay calm. She couldn’t let her mind wander through those memories that weren’t supposed to be there. Because then came the fear, the panic, the uncertainty of what the hell she was supposed to do next and where she could possibly go after this. Because the fear and the panic and the uncertainty was how he found her the easiest.
‘And you’re not going anywhere.’ The bank chuckled softly, but it cut off just as quickly. ‘Right?’
“No.” Jessica looked down at the dented tin box in her lap and slowly shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not like I have a choice anyway, right?”
‘You always have a choice, Jessica. In this particular instance, only one of them is actually smart.’
“I know.”
Exhaustion overwhelmed her—not from her wounds anymore or from the endless stream of chaotic events that had made up what felt like the longest day in existence. This was worse. The idea of carrying on with the day-to-day functions of running the bank, all while dealing with a fae camped out in the office downstairs and the inevitable frustrations of needling the information she needed out of him, was exhausting. Because now she had to pull double-duty from here on out. Half of her would be learning everything she could from Leandras about what the Gateway really was and how to play her part in keeping it out of the wrong hands. And the other half of her would be focused on not thinking about home.
About the burning apartment buildings all around her. The alley dusted with shattered glass and crumbled brick. The faces in that silver cloud of mist that had chased after her far longer than just that night. The terror of what she’d done, and the shame…
‘Yeah, that’s not helping. You’re trying to keep it out of your mind, right? Think about something else.’
Jessica blinked quickly and shook her head. The bank was right. Anything else was better than walking down memory lane and opening the door for way more trouble than she could handle right now, let alone survive.
“So let’s talk about how the hell these memories came back in the first place.”
‘Oh, sure. That’s a fun topic.’
“You know something.”
‘Yep. You know, I distinctly remember telling you not that long ago that your little trickle of impossible memories had something to do with your magic. Specifically, what you’re holding in that dumb box right now. Any of this ringing a bell, or am I talking out of my nonexistent ass?’
Rolling her eyes, Jessica slumped back against the couch cushion, ignoring the bank’s sarcasm. She’d probably be talking to herself the same way if she were in the bank’s shoes. Metaphorically, of course.
“Yeah, I remember. You said that was why your magic went all screwy in the vault.”
‘Not my magic, witch. I mean, technically, it’s partially mine. But I told you. The builders had a lot of foresight when they put me together, lobby and vault and everything. Even the Gateway—’
The bank gasped in her mind, and Jessica sat up straighter on the couch to stare with wide eyes at the far wall. “Did you just…”
‘I did. Didn’t I?’
“You said ‘Gateway.’ Without sputtering out.”
‘Well screw a duck…’
She snorted. “That’s not the saying, but whatever. This is a big deal, right?”
‘Does a sentient bank talk in your head?’
Yes. The answer was yes. They were finally getting somewhere.
Jessica stared at the tin box in her lap and absently swiped her dark hair away from her forehead. “So you can talk about the Gateway and the magic of your…builders. Tell me why my memories are linked to that.”
‘Well I didn’t bring them back, if that’s what you’re wondering.’ The bank chuckled. ‘Remember how freaked out you were the first time you put on the pendant? Man, you hated talking to me. Or even accepting that any of this was happening to you in the first place. Stubborn, bull-headed, naïve little—’
“Stick to the topic, bank. One thing at a time.”
‘See? You’re still so focused on being in control that you can’t see the bigger picture.’
Jessica allowed her mind to go blank in response; at this point, it was the only thing she could do to really let the bank know she was serious. Blasting attack spells at the only real being she could trust right now didn’t exactly build that trust in return.
Breathe in for four.
Breathe out for four.
‘Okay, okay. Come on. We’re at the verge of an epic discovery here. You know you can’t just shut me out.’
I can, she thought back directly, a slow smile spreading across her lips. But I don’t want to right now. Help me see the pieces.
‘You’re my battery. Yeah, I know you hated to hear the truth three weeks ago when it smacked you in the face. That’s kinda one of your things, isn’t it? Dissing on the truth.’
“We all have our flaws.”
The bank’s sudden and mad-sounding cackle filled her head and made her clench her eyes shut. ‘No truer words, witch! Look, you were missing two vital and ridiculously important parts of yourself. You can’t function the way you need to as a shell of who you really are. And I can’t function on a half-empty battery, capeesh?’
Jessica blinked and frowned at the box in her lap, which sud
denly felt way too heavy.
Who she really was. That was a lot more complicated now with her memories returned to her. Honestly, it was amazing she’d gotten this far without knowing the whole truth for the last eight years.
‘Yeah, no wonder you’re so screwed up. And you know the last piece of this Jessica Northwood puzzle that needs to be played. Or should I call you—’
“Don’t.” Her voice cut through the still, silent air of her bedroom with a sharp finality. “Not right now. I can’t think about any of that right now, and I know you know why.”
‘Yeah, I know. We definitely don’t need him to deal with on top of everything else. Listen, Jessica. I can do a lot to block things off in your head. I don’t know how long, but I can bury this stuff if you want. The memories. Keep ’em locked up nice and tight so you can focus on what we need to do here. And lemme tell ya, they’ll be a hell of a lot more protected than anything a tin box shoved in your underwear drawer can offer. So why don’t you just go ahead and finally open the damn thing and suck yourself back into yourself? Magically speaking.’
“I can’t.”
‘You know that’s bullshit. You just don’t want to.’
“This is where you pretending to be my conscience seriously backfires. You know that, right?”
‘I never pretended to be your conscience. But I do know that if you don’t do this, we’re screwed.’
Somewhere deep down in her gut where she’d spent so long trying not to look, she knew the bank was right. And she dreaded the thought of reversing the Shattering she’d cast on herself before getting bagged and tagged and shipped off to MJ Penitentiary.
‘Come on, Jessica. What are the chances you’ll even know who takes the hit once you do it? There are billions of life forms in this world. You can’t put all of them at risk just because one of them has to pay the price.’
A knot clenched in Jessica’s gut, and she tossed the tin box of her most powerful magic onto the couch cushion beside her. “Maybe I don’t have to.”
‘Oh, come on. Listening to your head spin around this is like watching a hairless dog chasing its tail. It’s not instinct at that point, just sheer stupidity.’
“No. Half an hour ago, you were telling me the only way to not die was to open this box and undo the Shattering. But Leandras had another way.”
The bank snorted. ‘Yeah, and did you see the hatred in his eyes when he said he didn’t have enough extra magic to heal you and do whatever he’s planning next?’
“He’s planning to honor the terms of our binding. Or he’s screwed.”
‘Well yeah, but he definitely wasn’t happy about the idea.’
“And now neither one of us had to do what we didn’t want to do.”
Because apparently, Confucius was an immortal lizard who’d been with Winthrop & Dirledge Security Banking longer than the place had existed—by the bank’s own admission—and just so happened to have an insanely powerful ability to heal magicals and bring them back from the brink of death.
‘Not magicals. Just you. You’re the Guardian. If I had to guess, I’d say the lizard finally found an opportunity to do his job. To protect you and make sure we…’ The bank gasped again.
“What?”
‘Ha! I’ve been so focused on how stupid you are, I didn’t even think about it.’
Jessica rolled her eyes.
‘That’s why your memories are back. The reptile had to take matters into his own claws because you weren’t doing your job.’
“What?”
‘He healed you, witch. Completely and wholly so you’d have your memories back and would finally call it quits on your valiantly moronic efforts to stay broken. Ha! If I had lips, I’d kiss that scaley devil and…I don’t know. Promote him or something.’
She took a deep breath, and if the lizard had been inside her bedroom in the earliest hours of the morning with her, she would have chased him back out again with renewed fury. Fury mixed with appreciation, probably. Or just understanding.
Because she couldn’t keep pretending she could do this all on her own. Not when she remembered everything she’d done and why she’d had her memories plucked from her subconscious in the first place. Not when she knew exactly who’d been hunting her across the country since that night her fourteen-year-old self had lost everything.
‘Now you’re getting it. Damn. The reptile doesn’t have to say a damn thing, does he? Just heal you right up, put all your shriveled, scattered parts back together again, and bam. Message received.’
“Yeah, maybe you should take a page out of Confucius’ book,” she muttered.
The bank tittered. ‘Naw. Why send you convoluted messages with healing magic when I can just say it right to your face. You can’t face the Brúkii as an empty vestrohím husk, Jessica. You know it. I know it. The damn lizard knows it. Do what you have to do.’
Jessica glanced at her tin box. A small shimmer of black light seeped between the seams of the dented metal, humming with power the way Leandras’ gúlmai had hummed, only this was darker. More primal. Calling her to break her promise to herself and everyone she’d let down—including Mel and especially Rufus, despite the fact that neither of them would ever know what she’d done. Because she’d never told Mel, and Rufus was dead.
‘You gotta stop blaming yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.’
“But I should’ve had more control…” It came out of her in a whisper.
‘Hey, you have me now. If anyone knows how to control you, it’s this bank right here. Remember?’
With agonizing slowness, Jessica reached out for the box of her magic and brushed her fingers against the dented and scuffed tin. The buzz of her magic longing to return to her sent a jolt of maddening pleasure up her arm.
If she were really being honest with herself, she wanted that power back inside her more than anything. Jessica wanted to be whole. Every day spent without the full scope of her magic made her feel even more broken and scattered than missing a two-year chunk of her teenage memories.
‘So do it,’ the bank whispered. ‘Just let go of trying to be so damn strong all the time, Jessica. You’ll never be as strong as you know you are with all of you put back in place.’
Of course she knew. Now, thanks to the damn lizard, she remembered exactly how strong she’d been that night, when he came bursting through her front door and ripped everything she’d ever loved right out from under her in the course of a single breath. Jessica had done the impossible that night, precisely because she had been that strong. Stronger than she’d ever realized until she was forced to face the terrifying truth of what she could really do with that magic she’d locked up. Stronger than everyone who thought they knew Jessica Northwood could have possibly imagined.
But Jessica Northwood didn’t really exist, did she?
Not the way she’d always assumed.
‘It doesn’t matter what your name is,’ the bank coaxed. ‘Let it come home.’
Home. That word had lost its meaning so long ago.
Jessica’s fingers trembled against the surface of that tin box.
If she let it all come home the way she wanted, the way her magic wanted, she’d be completely unstoppable.
And that was the problem. Because once she started and fully gave in to what she now remembered she could do, she knew she’d never stop.
Chapter Nine
The pull of her own magic was too strong. It called to Jessica with more force than ever since she’d cast the Shattering on herself. And yes, she wanted it very much.
‘So stop denying yourself and do it…’
The second the bank offered its final bit of encouragement, a brief flash of green light flickered beneath the edge of her closed bedroom door. The Gateway’s dark, alluring chuckle echoed faintly in the hallway—and it if didn’t belong to the Gateway itself, then it belonged to someone on the other side who most certainly wanted to see her fail.
That realization snapped her out of what any
one else might have called a trance. Jessica sucked in a harsh breath and snatched up the box before standing briskly from the couch. “Not yet.”
The bank groaned. ‘Are you kidding me right now? You’re this close. You know you want it. And the more you put this off, the more time he has to get the slip on both of us. For once in your life, Jessica, you need to lock up this warped sense of morality. Not your damn magic!’
She walked briskly toward her dresser, jerked open the top drawer, and buried her removed magic one more time beneath the scattered piles of her underwear and bras. “Not until I figure out how to reverse the Shattering without making someone else pay for my mistakes.”
The door slammed shut again with a note of finality, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to look away from the old wood and the dull metal knobs.
‘It’s impossible. And if you don’t do it, it won’t just be some random sad sap bearing the brunt of this one decision, Jessica. It’ll be all of us.’
“I’m done talking about this. I need to think.”
‘No, that’s your problem. You think too much. You need to do.’
And you need to stop so I can sleep.
So she could buy herself just a little more time to figure out a workaround. Nobody else should have to pay the price of the decisions she made, whether or not she ever knew who would take the fall for it when she finally embraced herself again.
If she ever did.
Jessica kicked off her shoes and stripped one layer of clothing at a time as she made her way to her bed. The gauze pad one of her Corpus friends had quickly and effectively applied to the knife wound in her lower back and just above her hip was crusted with dry blood and peeled away like an old sock worn too long. She reached back to feel along the hot, puckered flesh of the mostly healed wound, which would absolutely leave a scar and only add to the long list of them she’d gained over the years. Like a map of all her close calls. If that troll had stuck her just a few inches higher and closer to her spine, there would’ve been no coming back from a ruptured kidney.
The Secret Coin (Accessory to Magic Book 3) Page 8