The Poisoned Veil (Accessory to Magic Book 4)

by Kathrin Hutson

  He’d found her.

  ‘Holy shit.’ The bank gulped in her mind. ‘I actually... I mean, I thought you were a goner there for a second.’

  Yeah, me too.

  It was hard enough to think back to the bank after what she’d just been through. Now, Jessica sat upright on her bed with Leandras nearly on top of her, so close she could feel his relieved breath fluttering against her cheek when he closed his eyes.

  ‘I couldn’t get to you, Jessica.’ The bank sounded truly scared and almost as ashamed as she felt. ‘I didn’t see it coming. I mean, who would guess dreams, right?’

  He did.

  ‘Well, your monster isn’t exactly like the rest of the assholes in this world, is he? Don’t worry. I’ve got you locked up tighter than the vault. At least, when you’re awake. I guess the fae’s on watch-duty when you’re asleep, now, huh?’

  What?

  ‘He brought you back. I think.’

  She wasn’t ready to look at Leandras. But she was probably even less prepared to take in the current state of her destroyed bedroom—the ceiling beams cracked and hanging askew, some parts having already crashed to the floor; the dents in the walls where her magic had lashed out, completely beyond her control; the bathroom door lying cracked against the heavy dresser; the burst seams and charred rips in the back of the couch from the same.

  I didn’t mean to trash the place.

  ‘Hey, I know that. And you can’t actually hurt me. At least not as badly as another walking, talking meat-sack. Maybe you should tell him, though.’

  Swallowing thickly, Jessica pushed herself away from Leandras and scooted backward on the bed. “Did I...”

  His eyes flew open, and he gazed at her with relief and concern and more of that off-putting remorse. At least, she hoped that was what it was.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Christ, that sounded so pathetic in her hushed, trembling voice.

  “It’s nothing.” He gazed intently at her and dipped his head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Leandras, if I did something...” Jessica puffed out another shaky sigh, but at least her breathing had slowed. “This isn’t like the time I zapped you in anger and you thought I’d take your hand off.”

  She didn’t have to say the rest of it.

  That time, her most powerful magic had still been locked up in the tin box she’d never see again. This time, they both knew her full power had been restored. Even an unintentional hit could have lasting damage now.

  “Show me,” she muttered, forcing back her fear of how bad it could actually be. If she’d slapped him with a death sentence in her dreaming battle, she had to know. They still had work to do, and no way in hell could she cross through the Gateway without him.

  Glancing at the corner of the room, Leandras slowly turned his head to expose his opposite cheek and gestured toward it with an open hand. It seemed he could barely lift that hand to gesture at all.

  A starburst of black lines like varicose veins spread through the dark welt just below his cheekbone.

  Jessica grimaced and tried to look away, but she couldn’t. “Shit.”

  “Again, Jessica, I’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “It’s a minor, unintentional side effect.” The corner of his mouth twitched, but his usually careless smirk fell completely flat. “I can handle it.”

  She clenched her teeth as he turned his head again to face her straight-on. “I’m so sorry—”

  “No.” The fae man seized both her hands and leaned toward her, his eyes flashing with silver light. “You had no control, Jessica. I can’t hold any of this against you. I won’t. All that matters is you’re here. Now. With me. And you’re safe.”

  A weak, humorless chuckle escaped her. “Only until I fall asleep again.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  Tilting her head, she slowly pulled her hands away from his grasp, and Leandras didn’t offer an ounce of resistance. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  ‘Hello? Earth to idiot. Didn’t I just tell you he’s the one who brought you back?’

  He won’t always be here.

  ‘Yeah, but for now...’

  “Jessica.”

  She looked up at him again and wanted to run away from the sincerity staring back at her.

  Fat chance when she felt like she’d just been through hell and back. Maybe that was what dreams really were. A hell she got to come back from for two-thirds of the day before she had to do it all over again.

  Leandras straightened, clearly noticing her discomfort with how close he’d been leaning toward her. His gaze flickered across her face, as if searching for answers to the questions he hadn’t yet voiced. “I know this was an attack. I’ve seen it before. Tell me what you know.”

  What she knew?

  Hell, the only thing she knew for certain right now was that she wasn’t even safe from her own mind. The bank had built a vault around her memories, and that had kept the trail cold. The Brúkii couldn’t find her through normal means. But now he’d found her in her dreams, her subconscious, and there was literally no way to work around that.

  “I...can’t.” Jessica turned away from him and clenched her eyes shut.

  She couldn’t talk about it, even with the bank’s protection in her waking mind. Retelling the horror of that night had been more than painful enough the first time, and that was only bits and pieces so the Peddler in New Mexico had enough to go on before he pulled those memories and tossed them into the void. Apparently, he hadn’t tossed them far enough to escape whatever creepily powerful magic existed inside that pain-in-the-ass lizard.

  “Jessica.” Leandras leaned forward again to hook one cold, slender finger beneath her chin. It forced her to look at him again.

  No. It reminded her that she had a choice.

  “You must tell me.” He nodded once with agonizing slowness. “We cross through the Gateway in less time than either of us can afford to spend without trusting one another. I can help you, but only if you tell me who or what attacked you.”

  ‘He’s got a point,’ the bank whispered, as if Leandras could hear him too. ‘If he’s seen this before, maybe he knows something I don’t. I mean, he’s probably as old as I am. Almost.’

  Accept the fae’s help again?

  Jessica had just left a mark on his face in her sleep, and with all she knew of her own magic, that mark would spread through him like a cancer. It would consume him, but not in the way it consumed Jessica. A minor, unintentional side effect, sure. But that didn’t make it any less deadly.

  ‘He said he could handle it.’

  He says a lot of things.

  ‘Get your head out of your ass and take the fae’s help!’

  Jessica blinked furiously at the jolt of screaming bank-voice blasting through the space behind her eyes.

  Leandras raised an eyebrow, leaning toward her again in concern.

  He wasn’t even angry. There was no possible way he could harbor any resentment, not when he looked at her like that.

  How was she supposed to bear this? All this time spent seriously mistrusting the fae wreaking havoc in her life, and as soon as she’d given him a death sentence with her uncontrolled power, he held nothing against her? And she was supposed to trust him more than her guilt?

  Hot tears brimmed in her eyes again, her nose stinging with the oncoming storm she hadn’t let herself unleash in ten years.

  “Whatever it is,” Leandras added softly, reaching out again not to take her hand but simply to cover it with his own, “I can help you. Tell me, Jessica.”

  She blinked away the tears, took a deep breath, and met his gaze with as much strength as she could muster in such a screwed-up situation.

  It was now or never, right? Jessica preferred never, but her only other option would probably kill them both if she stayed silent.

  “My name’s not Jessica.”

  Chapter 15

  Leandras frowned at her
and removed his hand, studying her face again like he had the ability to see lies written across her features.

  Maybe he did. But Jessica wasn’t lying this time.

  ‘Wow. Hell of a way to break it to him, don’t you think?’ The bank sighed. ‘Maybe you should’ve started the whole story from the beginning.’

  That is the beginning.

  ‘I meant of your monster problem, witch. Not of your life.’

  The fae man seemed to realize there was nothing in her rejection of the name she’d given him that smelled of falsehood. His frown disappeared, and he nodded. “Keep going.”

  Jesus, this was a mess.

  “I’ve never told anyone this before,” she muttered. “Not all of it.”

  Leandras remained silent, urging her to continue with nothing more than his presence and his apparent ability to recover so quickly from the shock of news he couldn’t have possibly expected.

  Or maybe he hadn’t recovered. Maybe he was just shoving it down somewhere in the deep, dark trenches of his mind, and it would flare up all over again when he least expected it. Just like it was doing right now for her.

  Jessica swallowed. “My name is Lilith Gray. At least, it was until I met the Peddler and he took that from me too. But I—”

  She shook her head.

  This was all coming out so wrong. How was she supposed to talk about any of this when she’d only rediscovered the missing pieces of her past a few weeks ago? When she couldn’t even think about it during the day because it would bring the Brúkii sniffing around that much closer?

  ‘He already found the scent.’

  I know.

  Leandras pulled away from her and shifted to sit straight on the edge of the bed, facing the decimated back of the couch and the wall instead of her.

  Great. Now he’d tell her their deal was off because he couldn’t do anything for a Guardian with a checkered past like hers.

  Forget checkered. Her life was riddled with holes—one giant smear of black vestrohím magic and blood.

  She clenched her jaw and prepared to be walked out on, maybe even to never see the fae man again. At least then she wouldn’t have to watch him wither away beneath the mark of her destruction on his cheek.

  “Try it again,” he muttered, leaning forward to prop his forearms on his thighs as he stared at the floor coated in plaster and sawdust and chunks of wall.

  “What?”

  “Sometimes, it helps to find the thread of a tale when no one is watching.” He nodded but didn’t look up at her.

  For a moment, Jessica thought he was screwing with her again. But this was as close to privacy as she was going to get, wasn’t it? Like he was turning away from her while she changed her clothes instead of bearing her past and her darkest secret that hadn’t seen the light of day for ten years.

  “Okay.” It sounded ridiculous, but this whole thing was ridiculous. Excluding the deadly Brúkii who’d been trying to find her since the night she’d left him for dead in that alley. “How... Where should I start?”

  “From the beginning.”

  ‘Told you.’

  Please don’t. Not right now.

  ‘Sorry. Force of habit. And yeah, in case you were wondering, still locked up tight. At least from anyone outside this room. Go ahead.’

  Jessica took another deep breath and let herself pick through the memories for the first time since regaining them.

  “I was fourteen. I didn’t even know what I was back then, but my parents—”

  A lump formed in her throat just talking about them, but she forced it aside. She wouldn’t get very far at all if she got hung up like that with every painful detail. They were all painful.

  “They knew something was different. They probably had their own opinions. It wasn’t like I could hide the little outbursts forever. And I guess... I guess someone else found out what I was before any of us knew for sure.”

  That sounded so blasé, like she was talking about some kind of medical diagnosis instead of her vestrohím magic with the potential to wreak far more damage than any terminal disease. On Jessica and on everyone else she touched.

  “We were eating dinner. I’d been a complete shit all night, because I was already failing most of my classes and they just wanted me to be better. We got into it at the table, and I stormed off to my room. I shouldn’t have left them there...”

  ‘Just a story, Jessica. Not a confession. It wasn’t your fault.’

  It was.

  ‘Oh, so now we’re blaming the rabbit for getting eaten by the hawk?’

  She grimaced.

  ‘Sorry. Bad analogy.’

  It wasn’t, though. It worked perfectly. And yes, Jessica had been the rabbit. Until she’d turned around and become the ultimate predator in one defining moment.

  She braced herself and kept going.

  “I had my headphones on, just to completely tune them out while they talked about me over the rest of dinner. The walls of that apartment were so thin. And everyone who lived there had their own issues, you know? Their own...fights or whatever. Looking back on it, I definitely felt the first few explosions, and I just... I thought it was someone storming around on our floor. It happened all the time. And I didn’t hear a thing.”

  The tears came again, her nose burning and a dull ache rising in her forehead.

  “Then my mom burst into my room. She actually shattered the door with some spell I didn’t know, and the fear in her eyes was... I’d never seen that before. She told me to get out. That it wasn’t safe. She wouldn’t tell me what was happening, and my dad just...stood there at the front door. Like he knew what was coming. When the front door burst open, all the flames from out in the hall—”

  Jessica clenched her eyes shut and let out a low growl, which was all she could manage instead of a groan. “The whole building was already on fire. Or most of it, I don’t know. My dad tried to fight him off. They were both screaming at me to run, and I couldn’t move. That...thing tossed my dad aside like he was nothing and went for my mom next. He took them both. Their souls or whatever. Who they were. Who they are.”

  Leandras’ back grew rigid, his shoulders pulling back from their restful slump as he listened.

  Yeah. If he’d seen something like this before, he knew exactly what came next. At least for her parents.

  And now that she’d started, Jessica couldn’t stop.

  “I tried to save them. But he was already looking for me, I guess. And attacking a thing like that only made it clear he’d found his target. I didn’t... I didn’t know how to hurt him badly enough, but it stopped him long enough for me to get out. Jesus, I’d snuck out down that fire escape more times than I can count, and my parents already knew.”

  She ran a hand through her hair and drew in a jagged breath.

  “He’d taken both buildings down already. Or at least set them on fire. People in their homes. Trapped. I don’t know if I was the only one who made it out, but it sure as hell felt like it. I burned my hands climbing down that fire escape. And they didn’t...”

  Jessica glanced down at her own palms, perfectly devoid of scars. The healing had been immediate and lasting for such a superficial wound at the time. Others since then hadn’t been so thoroughly erased from the memory of her skin, but all that came long, long after the night that sealed her fate.

  “He came after me. I thought I’d hurt him enough to get more of a head start, but knowing what I know now about what I was dealing with...”

  “A Brúkii,” Leandras muttered.

  She looked at him from the corner of her eye and swallowed. “Yeah. I had no idea what I’d already given him. Just a taste with my own magic, and he wanted more. Obviously. I thought I was gonna die when he caught up to me in that alley. I had no idea what I was doing, and that... If he’d been anything else, any other kind of magical, I would’ve been completely justified in thinking I’d murdered someone that night.”

  The fae straightened and turned slowly to look at her.
“You stopped him?”

  “No, he stopped himself. I just...facilitated.” She would have laughed if it wasn’t so damn true. “First time I learned what I could really do. I just didn’t know how to do it right. So I ran, and I didn’t stop running until I reached Colorado.”

  “He followed you.”

  “No shit he followed me.”

  Leandras raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head.

  “Sorry. Yeah. He took my magic and followed the scent like a bloodhound. I popped in and out of different safehouses for...wayward youth, I guess. The magical kind. Learned about what was really following me and that I’d never be safe as long as I kept thinking about him. As long as I remembered. So finding that Peddler in New Mexico was only half by chance, and he helped me set up the whole thing.”

  Jessica snorted.

  Help might have been the wrong word. The crippled, gap-toothed Peddler had made a deal with the young witch who had no money and no artifacts to trade for his services. But she did have a vestrohím’s power, and everyone knew the worth of that.

  “I chose my new name,” she continued. “Don’t ask me how I came up with it. I have no idea. But I wrote my new story there in that hut before I...”

  She couldn’t keep going. Not with this.

  “How old were you?”

  Closing her eyes, she let out another ragged breath and muttered, “Sixteen.”

  “Sixteen...” The fae closed his eyes. “I don’t imagine a sixteen-year-old on the run for two years had the funds to pay a Peddler’s fees.”

  Jessica scowled at him. He wasn’t looking at her, but he sure as shit was drawing it out of her like blood with all the questions and suggestive prompts. Her hands were shaking now, and she balled them into fists in her lap. “No. The bastard knew exactly what I needed and what I am. We made a deal.”

  “For a vestrohím’s magic.”

  “Yeah. If I hadn’t already been a...” She gritted her teeth. “Let’s just say it started a long string of bartering with my magic and ruining people’s lives.”

  More like taking them, and she really hoped the rest of it was implied.