The Cursed Fae (Accessory to Magic Book 2)

by Kathrin Hutson

  “Jessica, I would love to go over the specifics with you, but I will not do it for free.” His silver eyes finally flickered toward hers, and he unsuccessfully tried to brush his hair away from his face again. “And I really need my gúlmai.”

  “I have no idea what that is.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  She shook her head, scowling at him. “In exchange for helping you with…whatever’s going on, you’re going to show me how to do something I don’t want to do? You’re not making a very convincing case.”

  “Opening the Gateway and protecting it are not mutually exclusive, Jessica.”

  “Oh, I’d love to hear you explain how that works—”

  “It works because you have me!” Leandras stumbled over the pile of rubble left over from his brief encounter with the Matahg and hissed before catching himself on the empty shelf at his side. A roll of something that looked like a moth-eaten table runner bounced across the floor toward the desk and Jessica’s feet.

  She glanced at it, then looked slowly up at him.

  ‘Still not the most convincing argument I’ve heard,’ the bank muttered. ‘And trust me, when you’ve been a bank everyone wants to get their hands on for hundreds of years, you hear a lot of arguments.’

  I thought you said millennia.

  ‘Well, yeah. But not as a bank.’

  Time to ignore the peanut gallery.

  Jessica looked the fae man up and down. “I’d love to take you at your word, Leandras. I really would. But so far, ‘having you’ hasn’t done a whole lot of good for me. If you get my drift.”

  He nudged aside an old leather-bound book with the toe of his dress shoe—which had gone from pristinely shiny the first time they’d met to subtly scuffed now—and straightened farther against the bookshelf. Though he managed to maintain most of his composure, when his slender hands gripped the edge of the shelf behind him at hip height, his already pale fingers quickly blanched an even lighter shade. “I can’t possibly pretend to understand your perspective, Jessica. But I can appreciate it. And with that appreciation comes my promise to you this very moment that I will tell you everything you need to know—”

  “Everything I want to know.” Jessica pointed at him and tilted her head in warning.

  “Everything I know. In exchange for your cooperation. Namely the use of your establishment as a temporary safehouse until such a time as I am able to regain my strength—” Leandras’ foot came down on the side of an overturned potions vial filled with clear liquid, and he wobbled dangerously for a moment before stepping away and recapturing his tenuous balance. “And my wits.”

  ‘Ha!’

  Jessica winced at the bank’s deafening exclamation. Could you not?

  ‘He just admitted it, Jessica. No wits at all. So I’ll just ask you this. Would you trust a self-proclaimed lunatic?’

  She almost replied with a flat-out no. Then again, it seemed everyone in this town—maybe every magical in this whole world, assuming there was another one behind the creepy dungeon door upstairs acting as a portal—was a lunatic. Maybe even Jessica herself.

  You trusted Tabitha, didn’t you?

  ‘What? That’s not… I didn’t… He’s…’

  Yeah, so did I. So your logic’s a little faulty there.

  ‘Oh, yeah? Well…you’re faulty.’

  Maybe. But that didn’t change the fact that a magical Jessica loved to hate—or at least thought she did—had saved her life and now stood weakly against the shelf in her bank, asking for her help. Asking for them to come to an actual arrangement that didn’t include Leandras trying to screw with her head while he or anyone else also tried to screw with the Gateway.

  ‘You can’t guarantee that, Jessica. Neither can he.’

  No, but she could guarantee a roof over the fae’s head and a place to recoup after whatever disaster had left him in his current state. And he obviously needed both of those things as much as she did.

  Her silence must have made Leandras uneasy. He looked up at her with a grimace she really thought was supposed to be one of his more alluring smiles and managed a half-assed shrug. “Will those terms suit you, Ms. Northwood?”

  “Not if you keep calling me Ms. Northwood.”

  This time, the ghost of a genuine smile broke through his grimly set lips. “Yes, I’m quite aware you don’t enjoy the moniker. But it does seem to get your attention.”

  Jessica held his gaze and gave them both just a little longer to reconsider. He looked like a wounded animal more than anything else. Honestly, she probably did too, and until she had the chance to sit down in private and take a look, she had to assume her own wounds were actually visible. Whatever afflicted Leandras looked a lot more like it was taking him out from the inside.

  ‘Oh, don’t get all mushy on me now,’ the bank whined. ‘There’s no way a fae cast a Shattering on himself. Come to think of it, you’re the only magical I can think of who had the balls to do something so idiotic.’

  Bravery and stupidity, bank. Fine line, right?

  ‘I…’ A heavy sigh filled her mind. ‘I have no idea how you managed to turn that around on me. Touché.’

  No, Jessica didn’t actually believe Leandras would have cast such a risky spell on himself. Not because he didn’t have the skill to do it if he wanted; anyone who could stand against Mickey like that and send the Matahg packing with his tail between his legs in under five minutes didn’t have a problem with skill.

  But she did know what it felt like to have her own magic turn against her. Just in a different form.

  “Jessica?” Leandras let out an uncertain chuckle. “You’re awfully quiet over there.”

  ‘You’re not actually considering this, are you?’

  “Yep.” A tiny smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. It was always a plus to answer both sides of her overlapping conversations with a single reply. Hell, that was a single word. “I’m still thinking.”

  ‘Great. There’s no changing your mind, is there?’

  Not unless you can give me a reason to change it.

  ‘I mean, how’s the fact that I just don’t like him?’

  Yeah, well neither do I.

  So far, though, Leandras was the only magical who claimed to know what Jessica needed to know about the Gateway and her responsibility to ensure its safety. The fae had said it himself—Tuesdays were for his friendly little chats with Tabitha. Who knew what those two had discussed in however many years of those weekly visits?

  ‘Hey, Tabitha and I talked too, you know. Fifty years.’

  No offense, but you still can’t tell me what we’re supposed to do next.

  ‘I… Fine.’

  Jessica nodded. “Fine.”

  “Fine?” Leandras raised his eyebrows, glanced cautiously around the lobby, then frowned. “As in…”

  “As in I’ll help you.”

  He sighed, and what tension remained in his shoulders seemed to seep out like air from a deflating balloon. “Jessica, I can’t tell you—”

  “But we need to lay down some ground rules first.” She pointed at him and stumbled when the small motion completely threw off her balance. But she caught herself on the desk and held the edge of it behind her, mirroring Leandras propped position against the shelves. “My ground rules. You have to agree to all of them. Got it?”

  “An entirely reasonable request.”

  “Good. Because I promise you’re not gonna like ’em.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  No. This risky fae would definitely not enjoy what Jessica was about to propose.

  Leandras blinked, and the stiffness of wary caution returned to his recently relaxed muscles. “Even with as foreboding a warning as that, Jessica, I doubt it’s enough to sway me from accepting.”

  Jessica cleared her throat. “We’re only doing this if you swear a binding.”

  The lobby fell completely silent.

  ‘Oh, shit.’ The bank’s cackling laughter echoed around inside her
head. ‘I did not see that one coming!’

  Probably because Jessica had only just thought of it herself. There were plenty of other ground rules racing through her mind, but she could sort those out later. None of them would mean shit if Leandras didn’t put his magic and his fate on the line with a binding. He could just as easily turn on her, take whatever he wanted, and—

  ‘I think he already knows he can’t just walk out of here with any old thing tucked under his arm, witch.’

  Still. She didn’t trust the fae farther than she could throw him. Which, right now, was a hell of a lot less than she could have if her vision weren’t swimming through all the pain.

  Leandras licked his cracked lips again and scanned the contents of the shelf behind him now scattered all over the floor. “Well. That was certainly unexpected.”

  “That’s the deal.” Jessica tried to lean farther back against the desk, but even that small amount of pressure on her tailbone was nearly excruciating. She clenched her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and pressed on. “If it’s too much for you, you know where the door—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “What?”

  Leandras nodded slowly, his gaze racing back and forth across the lobby floor. Now he really did look like he’d lost, like he’d finally given in, but there wasn’t a way around it for either of them. “I’ll swear the binding, Jessica. If that’s what it takes. It doesn’t change my decision, but I do hope you’ll be swearing one with me.”

  ‘Sneaky bastard.’

  Well, that’s how this works.

  “Yeah, I will.” She brushed the hair out of her eyes and immediately slapped her hand back down on the desk to keep herself standing upright. “Gotta make sure we’re not gonna kill each other somehow.”

  A wry laugh burst from Leandras’ dry, split lips. “I have not once entertained the thought of killing you. But I won’t hold it against you if you can’t say the same.”

  Jessica stared him down until she was sure the realization dawned on him that she was purposefully leaving that one unanswered. His eyes widened, and she spun away from him to face the desk.

  “Okay—” Another wave of dizziness overwhelmed her, and she hung her head between her shoulders until it passed. “No time like…the present. Right?”

  “Agreed.”

  At least they finally agreed on something. This was weird.

  “Just, um…” Jessica gestured behind herself with a fluttering hand before she had to brace it on the desk again. “Pull up a chair or something. I guess.”

  “I see only one—”

  “Well, the floor works too.”

  She hadn’t meant it to come out sounding so pissed off. That was just the nonstop pain finally getting to her. But the second she said it, the screech of wood scraping against wood rose from the front of the lobby.

  Jessica looked up just in time to see one of the armchairs flashing with blue light and careening across the room toward her. It blew past the desk and settled with a thump right beside Leandras, scattering more spilled merchandise in a wider arc.

  Before she could do anything else, the rolling office chair behind her pulsed with a softer blue glow and rolled toward her.

  Looks like someone’s not completely opposed to a temporary truce.

  ‘Doesn’t mean that someone won’t be watching that fae like a hawk. A huge, bank-shaped hawk…without wings. But still.’

  It’s fine.

  Jessica released her grip on the edge of the desk and pulled the office chair closer before gingerly lowering herself into it. Every muscle in her back, neck, and shoulders protested with fiery bursts, but that could wait. It had to.

  You don’t have to trust him.

  The bank snorted. ‘Of course I don’t. But something about making him swear a binding just feels right, so I’m rolling with it. Ha. Get it? ’Cause your chair’s on wheels…’

  Blinking quickly, Jessica looked up at Leandras, who slowly lowered himself into the armchair with wide eyes.

  “I must say I’m impressed,” the fae muttered. “You don’t look capable of holding a knife, let alone summoning a piece of furniture across the room.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve.”

  Now that she thought about it, though, Jessica wondered if she even would be able to hold the ritual knife needed for the binding. And where the hell was she supposed to find one in this mess when she could barely stand?

  ‘Behind you. Center drawer. You really couldn’t put that one together?’

  Right.

  Jessica spun the chair around toward the desk, and her gaze fell on the welded lump of melted and re-hardened brass that used to be the lock on the center drawer.

  ‘Oh…’

  Yeah. Oh. No way in hell was she undoing that hunk of metal just to pull out Tabitha’s old ritual knife. Not with the coin that had started this whole mess sealed up inside.

  “Um…” She turned the chair halfway back toward Leandras and grimaced. “Any chance you have a knife on you?”

  He leaned back in the armchair and closed his eyes. “I must have left it in my other suit.”

  Despite the awkwardness of this temporary truce they were about to make official with blades and blood and the binding on her terms, Jessica snorted. “You should pay more attention next time.”

  “Indeed.”

  So now what? She could go to the kitchen, but that would add an extra half hour to the task. She probably wouldn’t even make it to the hallway entrance in this state—

  A loud thump came from the desk, and she spun around in the chair so fast it made her groan.

  Not now. This was literally the worst time for that coin to start acting up again. Leandras probably had some kind of soul-shard connection to the thing, or at least an inanimate binding of some kind. He’d know exactly where she’d been keeping it after this, and then everything they were about to do would be a waste of both their time.

  The top right-hand drawer shot open with a flash of blue light, and the bank sniggered.

  ‘Anyone ever tell you you’re a worrywart?’

  Literally never.

  ‘Huh. Guess I’m just bringing out the worst in you. And the best, obviously.’

  Jessica peered over the side of the drawer and found Tabitha’s ritual dagger gleaming at her from atop the stack of disheveled paperwork the scryer probably hadn’t touched since shoving it all in there the first time.

  “Is there an issue?” Leandras muttered.

  She shot him a quick look and found the fae nestled against the back of the armchair, his hands hanging limply from the ends of the armrests, his eyes closed.

  If she hadn’t just seen for herself how weak he really was, she would have called his tone outrageously condescending. But no, he was just as exhausted as she was.

  “No issue.” She grabbed the handle of the blade, then only managed to shut the drawer halfway again before the strength of her arm gave out.

  This was ridiculous.

  ‘And yet here you are, still ignoring your fleshly needs just to get a fae’s unbreakable vow in blood. Must suck to be a body bag.’

  Definitely not the right term, bank.

  ‘Hey, you gonna get him to swear his undying loyalty to you too?’

  Shut up.

  Jessica swiveled slowly around in the chair again, careful not to jolt herself too harshly. When she faced Leandras, she was on the verge of telling him to buck up so they could get this done. But they still didn’t have everything they needed.

  “Crap.”

  He smirked, his eyes still closed. “A term used decidedly for declarations of an obstacle at hand.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Say again?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Damnit, nothing’s wrong. Why are you so— What are you doing?”

  Leandras’ hand was already hidden within the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and he sighed before pulling out a small spiral-bound notepad and a gliste
ning black-capped pen. “Taking it upon myself to be slightly more useful to you. Will this suffice?”

  He slowly uncapped the expensive-looking fountain pen before leaning forward to extend them both toward her.

  “Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” She swallowed before taking the last necessary items for setting down her terms and the terms of the binding. The pen was oddly warm.

  ‘Yeesh. I’d hate to see how you’d react if he pulled out his wallet instead of a pen.’

  You know what? When pretty much everything anyone’s pulled out in the last few weeks has the potential to hurt me or is actually used to hurt me, yeah. I’m a little skeptical.

  ‘More like jumpy. Relax, okay? I’m not tapped out anymore. If he tries anything, I’m on him like…like a bank on a fae.’

  Good one.

  Jessica stared at the tip of the fountain pen pressed lightly against the paper and bit her lip.

  “I can wait,” Leandras muttered, leaning back and closing his eyes one more time. “Though the longer this takes, the more difficult it will be to complete the necessary steps. For both of us, I imagine.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Thanks.”

  No, the binding wouldn’t necessarily make either of them recover any faster, but it would at least eliminate the stress of hanging out in static uncertainty around what either party might do to the other. She had no idea what was really at stake for Leandras, but Jessica wanted her answers. And she had to make sure she wrote this all out in a way that made it impossible for him to weasel his way out of fulfilling his end of the deal.

  Forget making it foolproof. The binding’s terms had to be fae-proof.

  ‘Maybe cut it out with the wordplay and get to writing this down, huh?’

  Why? You have an important meeting to get to?

  ‘Very funny. I’m not going anywhere, Jessica. But if you pass out before you two boneheads can finish this, we’re screwed all over again.’

  So quit distracting me.

  For twenty painstaking minutes, Jessica wrote out line after careful line of each item on her list of terms, paying close attention to exactly how she wanted each one to be phrased. Any room left for interpretation would give Leandras an opening to twist even the magical laws of the binding to his own advantage. Which she still didn’t fully believe would also be to her advantage, no matter how sincere he’d sounded about being “on her side.”