Mel finally stepped forward, but she sure as hell wasn’t smiling. She stared at Jessica with wide eyes and nervously licked her lips.
“What the hell is going on?” Jessica muttered.
“I’d like a second with her first. Any objections?” Mel asked it of the entire gathering, none of whom argued against it.
“Make it fast,” Leandras said. “We don’t have much time.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Mel stormed toward Jessica and grabbed her friend roughly by the arm, pulling her toward the far side of the warehouse where it was darker and quieter and the others were less likely to overhear.
Despite Leandras’ low voice rising from the center of the room as he engaged in his own conversation with the rest of the Laenmúr faction, Jessica thought she could feel the others’ eyes on her. But she couldn’t look away from Mel as the pink-haired witch darted urgent, terrified glances around the room.
“What are you doing here?” Jessica’s voice seeped out of her like cold sludge.
“What am I—” Mel huffed out a humorless laugh and grabbed Jessica by the shoulders. “You didn’t think to tell me you were the Guardian?”
“No. I didn’t. ’Cause you failed to tell me you’re a part of some ancient…whatever the hell this is. What the fuck, Mel?”
“Yeah, we really should’ve had this conversation somewhere else and way sooner.” The other witch looked like she was going to cry. “Jess, this isn’t a game.”
Jessica’s bark of a laugh cracked through the wide, empty warehouse, and a few of the other magicals frowned at her before returning their attention to the fae apparently laying out their game plan. “Did you really just say that? To me?”
“Okay, look. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but we—”
“You’re right.” Jessica finally found control of her own body again and folded her arms, scowling at her best friend. Or at least, that was who she’d thought Mel was. No way to tell now. “You have no idea.”
“Hey, I’m just as thrown off about this as you are, okay?”
“I seriously doubt that. You should have said something. I asked what was happening in your life, and you told me all the boring parts. Nothing about this. Nothing about—wait.” Jessica narrowed her eyes, her mouth falling open. “You knew about Jensen. The whole time.”
“Jess—”
“Didn’t you?”
Mel’s eyelids fluttered for a second, and she let out a defeated-sounding sigh. “Yeah. I did. But if I’d known you were the Guardian organizing all this for what we have to do this morning, I probably would’ve handled that a little differently.”
“I didn’t organize shit,” Jessica spat. “I was pulled into this without a fucking clue about what any of this even was. Jesus, Mel. I could’ve done so many things differently if you’d just said something.”
“Don’t put it all on me.”
“You lied to my face.”
“No, you said you were just an apprentice. I just failed to tell you the whole truth, because this isn’t exactly something you share with someone you haven’t seen in a year and a half.”
“Someone who took the fall for you and everyone else and spent a year in prison for it? Yeah.” Jessica sneered. “You’re right. I probably didn’t deserve to know.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t care.” They stared at each other for another ten seconds, then Jessica turned away from her friend and headed toward the gathering.
“Wait. Jess.” Mel snatched up her hand, and while Jessica could have easily ripped herself free, she stopped. “You know what we’re doing here, right?”
“Kicking off phase two. Yeah. After Leandras and I do my thing.”
“Wait, what?” Mel blinked quickly, then glanced around the warehouse again. “What thing?”
“Undo a seriously messed-up decision I made.”
The other witch slowly released Jessica’s hand, frowning as she leaned away. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, you will in a second.” Shaking her head, Jessica stormed across the warehouse and joined Leandras at the table.
“…need to move quickly.” The fae man acknowledged her with nothing more than a quick glance. “When he arrives, Jessica will cast the spell. Leave the Matahg to me. As soon as it’s finished, we complete the rest of the second seal.”
“What spell is she performing on her own here?” The warlock who’d addressed Leandras when they first arrived looked Jessica up and down. “If it has anything to do with our casting, we deserve to know—”
“The only thing it has to do with your casting,” Jessica interrupted, “is that I can’t help you with your spell until I complete mine. Otherwise, I’m no good to anyone.”
The warlock raised an eyebrow, then finally dipped his head in concession. “Fine. I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Steve.” She forced back a laugh and reached out to shake his hand. “Jessica.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard. It’s an honor.”
“Okay.”
How the hell was it an honor? Jessica was a broken vestrohím who’d fallen into her role as the Guardian like a stumbling puppy falling down a set of stairs. But whatever. If these Laenmúr magicals wanted to hype themselves up by believing she was some kind of powerful savior, she wasn’t about to stop them. Right now, that wasn’t even remotely what she was.
But maybe, just maybe, she could be that when she had the rest of her magic inside her again. When she could finally breathe again, knowing she was herself.
Leandras settled a gentle hand on her lower back, and instead of flinching away like she thought she would, she tensed up and glared at the wooden tabletop. “The reagents, Jessica.”
“Right.” She hauled the overnight bag onto the table and unzipped it before pulling out one black box after another. They still buzzed in her hands, but the magical energy flaring up her arms was more subdued this time. A little more muted.
Or maybe she’d just grown used to it at this point.
When all the fae’s little black boxes were laid out on the table, she withdrew her dented tin box last and took a deep breath.
“What’s that?” Steve asked.
She looked sharply up at him. “Not for you.”
Leandras leaned toward her to whisper in her ear, “And the sigil?”
“Yeah, I have it.” When she turned toward him, her magic-box clenched in one hand, she suddenly felt a hell of a lot more prepared for this. “But I’m keeping that one on me. You understand.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Of course. I only ask that you keep it at the ready. Once you and I do what must be done first, the rest should fall into place easily enough.”
“Should.” Jessica snorted and scanned the boxes lined up on the table. “You say that way too much.”
“Merely because neither of us can make any concrete promises, can we?” He obviously didn’t say it as a joke, but that somehow made it worse.
She copied his half-smirking, half-grimacing expression. “Not yet.”
“We’ll prepare for the casting, Jessica. The Laenmúr know what must be done. They’ve been waiting a very long time for this moment. So if—”
“Don’t worry. I won’t screw it up.”
Leandras chuckled softly. “I was going to say if you need time to prepare for the undoing, then I suggest you take that time for yourself now.”
“Oh.” Her grip tightened on the tin box, and she nodded. “Sure.”
“We won’t be long.” He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist—which he must have picked up at some point in the last five hours—and cocked his head. “Hopefully, the Matahg won’t keep us waiting much longer either.”
“Hopefully.” Jessica shot Steve another glance, and he nodded at her in what was either deference or permission. At this point, it could have been either. Or both.
As she turned away from the table, two more Laenmúr magicals approached Steve and Leandras to
help open the boxes and lay out the reagents in whatever arrangement was necessary for the spell to be most effective. She’d never really had the knack for ritualistic spellcasting—sigils, symbols, setting up reagents in their precise configurations for channeling the highest possible efficacy of the magic performed. Jessica’s own magic worked much differently. It was a storm inside her. An intuitive urge to reach out and destroy everything that stood in her way, and oddly enough, the more she gave into it, the easier it was to control.
But as experience had taught her over and over again, the more she gave into her own magic, the less control she wanted. Or to put it more succinctly, the less she wanted to keep the chaos at bay. The less she cared about who or what she destroyed.
Just her luck that that was what would keep the Gateway from bursting wide open to let the forces behind it come through on her own.
Apparently, in order to save anything, Jessica Northwood had to destroy a hell of a lot more than she wanted. The worst part was that once she had the full power of her magic inside her again, she knew how much she’d enjoy it. Then there was no telling whether she’d be able to control it at all.
Or stop.
Chapter Twenty-Five
This was actually happening. Jessica Northwood would be whole again in the next hour. Maybe even the next thirty minutes. She’d be the Guardian who protected the Gateway, the vestrohím who finally killed Mickey Hargraves and wiped that scumbag of a Matahg off the face of the Earth, and the witch who’d been running from her own darkness for the last eight years.
In a way, this calm before the storm felt like standing at the edge of a gaping pit and waiting for the final push to send her over the edge. In other ways—stronger ways—it felt like coming home.
She had absolutely no idea how to handle it, so she focused her attention on the spell to undo the Shattering. The bank had shown her exactly how to direct the blood-price of casting it, and if nothing else went in their favor this morning, at least she’d get rid of the Matahg who’d made her life a prison for years before she even knew what real prison was. Real prison she could handle, and she had. But living under the thumb of a high-level asshole who could rile her up and pin her back down again just because he could wasn’t a way to live at all.
Jessica had suffered through his abuse only because joining Corpus had brought her something she’d never had. Corpus had been her family, the kind that didn’t care who she was before she’d joined them or what she could do, no matter how terrifying. The family who had loved her in their own way. With all her heart, she’d loved them back.
But now they were disbanded. She’d taken the fall for all of them, trying to keep them safe, and now Mel was here as part of the goddamn Laenmúr faction working with Leandras. That was, of course, if anything the fae had told her were actually true.
Here was another moment when the bank would have said something either witty or completely inappropriate in an attempt to redirect her focus. But the sound of Mel’s voice rising in frustration on the other side of the warehouse did that instead.
The pink-haired witch stood half in the shadows along the far wall, straining against some changeling’s green-tinted hand wrapped around her wrist. The rest of the guy was still hidden within the darkness.
“Let go,” Mel hissed. “We’re not doing this right now.”
“Then when, huh?” The voice was familiar, but Jessica wasn’t thinking about placing voices she thought she knew.
She’d heard too many voices as it was, in and out of her head.
She stormed across the warehouse toward her friend, one fist fully clenched, the other tightening around the dented tin box. The magic inside it surged with renewed forced through her fingers and up her arms, begging her to take it back. Daring her.
Not yet. Not before they had everything they needed.
It only briefly occurred to her that this was probably not the right thing to focus on at the moment. Sure, she’d just stalked away from Mel to avoid having a real conversation they really didn’t have the time for, and coming back now seemed a little hypocritical.
But Mel looked pissed.
“Stop,” her friend hissed again, tugging away from the hand around her wrist but not really putting much effort into it. Like she didn’t really want to get away.
“Hey!” Jessica shouted, black sparks shooting from her clenched fist. “She said stop.”
Mel’s eyes widened, and she stopped struggling altogether. “Jess, you don’t have to—”
“This asshole obviously doesn’t realize no means no.”
“This asshole is having a private conversation.” The changeling stepped fully into the already dim light from the center of the warehouse. “With his girlfriend.”
Jessica stopped short, and the magic tingling down her arms and ready to be unleashed—for however weak it was—snuffed out instantly. Because the changeling now releasing Mel’s wrist to wrap his arm around her shoulders was Cedrick. “What the fuck?”
“Good to see you too, Jess.” He clearly tried to smile, but the firm press of his lips and the frown darkening his brow just made him look angry. “Looks like you’re doing better.”
She narrowed her eyes and couldn’t believe she was seeing this. “Physically, yeah.”
“Wait, what?” Mel glanced back and forth between them, craning her neck to study Cedrick’s profile. “When did you guys see each other?”
Jessica lips twitched into a humorless smirk. “You didn’t tell her.”
“You told me not to.” Cedrick’s hardball stare wavered when Mel slipped out from under his arm and stepped aside. He tried to reach for her again, but she took another step back and glared at him.
“Not to tell me what?”
“I guess that would be up to Jess to decide. Right?” Cedrick shrugged, looking a lot less confident now that the existence of lies was out in the open.
Jessica couldn’t settle on a single thought, so she just went with the first. “This is the guy?”
Mel huffed out a sigh. “This really isn’t the right time, guys. Okay?”
“This is the guy you didn’t want me to meet? Cedrick?”
“Because I knew you’d do this.” Mel gestured toward the changeling and let her hand drop down against her thigh. “Yeah. It’s him.”
“Jesus Christ, Mel.”
“Wait.” Cedrick folded his arms and scowled at the pink-haired witch, blinking slowly. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Neither did you. Obviously.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t come up in conversation the last time we saw each other. That’s not what happened with you two.”
“Cool.” Jessica nodded, huffing out a wry laugh. That laugh stuffed everything she felt about both her friends way deep down in the darkest corner of her heart, because actually paying attention to it was way more painful than she could handle right now. “Anything else we should get out in the open before, you know, we all cast this gigantic spell that either works or destroys two worlds?”
Mel’s lips pressed together so tightly, they trembled. “We don’t have time for that.”
“Sure we do.” Jessica nodded toward Leandras and Steve and the other Laenmúr magicals gathering around the center table. “They’re still setting up, and we’re waiting for one more asshole to step into this warehouse before we start. Plenty of time.”
“One more asshole?” Cedrick glanced around the dimly lit room halfway obscured in darkness. “Who—”
“Here. I’ll get the ball rolling.” Jessica pointed at Leandras. “You guys know that fae?”
Her friends exchanged a quick glance.
“Wow. That’s a yes.”
“Jess, he came to us. To the Laenmúr.” Mel’s obviously desperate attempt to smooth this over really wasn’t doing her any favors. “Some of the old-timers already knew him, but we’d been a part of this for…I don’t know. Six months before Leandras showed up?”
“And you know his name.”
; “So do you.”
“How long?”
“What?” Mel tossed her bright-pink bangs out of her eyes.
“How long have you known the fae standing at that table who came to you?” Jessica wanted to explode. If she’d had her full magic in that moment, maybe she would have.
“I don’t know. Two months, maybe.”
“Something like that, yeah,” Cedrick added.
Leandras had known exactly who Mel was when he’d found that picture of them in Jessica’s room. More lies. More truths everyone else thought she couldn’t handle.
“And Jensen.” Jessica stepped away from her friends as the realization sank in completely. “You’ve known the whole time.”
The other witch dropped her gaze to the dusty floor. “Not the whole time. But most of it.”
“And you actually let me think you were absolutely clueless. That I needed to protect you—”
“You already gave up everything you had to protect us,” Mel snapped. “And we figured out how to do the rest of it on our own. Without you.”
“Are you seriously blaming me for that?” Jessica barked out a laugh. “Because I left you?”
“We know you didn’t leave,” Cedrick put in. “We all know what happened, and none of us blame you for it. Obviously. We went with you to…”
He sucked in a sharp breath when Mel shot him a scathing look. “Went with her where?”
“Shit.”
“Last week,” Jessica muttered, scowling as she breathed heavily through her nose and tried to keep everything from boiling up to the surface. Maybe this really wasn’t the right time, but she couldn’t stop now. “I got ahold of Anthony, and they helped me with a job.”
“Who?” Mel still glared at Cedrick—her boyfriend, the guy, and how the hell was Jessica supposed to wrap her mind around that?
The changeling shrugged and couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “Everyone.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“Again, because Jessica told us not to, and she’s the one who brought us the job—”
“What fucking job?” Mel shouted. Her voice echoed through the dusty warehouse, and the other low conversations around the room faded beneath the outburst. The witch blinked furiously but didn’t turn around to acknowledge the two dozen Laenmúr members staring at her. So they went back to their own work.
The Secret Coin (Accessory to Magic Book 3) Page 23