The Poisoned Veil (Accessory to Magic Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  A Note from the Author

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  How far is she willing to go?

  Connect with Kathrin

  Check out Kathrin Hutson’s Other Series

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Books by Kathrin Hutson

  ACCESSORY TO MAGIC (Dark Urban Fantasy)

  The Witching Vault

  The Cursed Fae

  The Secret Coin

  The Poisoned Veil

  The Spellcast Gate

  GYENONA’S CHILDREN (Dark Fantasy)

  Daughter of the Drackan

  Mother of the Drackan

  THE UNCLAIMED (NA Dark Fantasy)

  Sanctuary of Dehlyn

  Secret of Dehlyn

  Sacrament of Dehlyn

  BLUE HELIX (LGBTQ Dystopian Sci-Fi)

  Sleepwater Beat

  Sleepwater Static

  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  COPYRIGHT © 2021 KATHRIN Hutson

  Cover Design by Covers by Christian

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  ISBN: 978-0-578-86445-7 (Exquisite Darkness Press)

  A Note from the Author

  I’m starting to think that I may be more surprised by this journey than Jessica.

  I can’t even say how many times in my writing career I’ve rebelled against the idea of planning, plotting, outlining, and detailing every twist and turn of the next story trying to break free from my head. When I started writing the Accessory to Magic series, I’d opened my mind to the possibilities of all those things I couldn’t comprehend (as a self-proclaimed “pantser”). I planned, plotted, outlined, and detailed more than I ever have in my life.

  Was it helpful? Absolutely.

  Did I stick to the program?

  Well...

  If I’ve learned anything about the process, it’s that Jessica Northwood just doesn’t fit into a box. Her magic, maybe, sure. But not for long.

  The rest of her has absolutely no desire to be planned and plotted. Not all the way.

  Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time myself when it comes to looking farther out into the future than about a month. I’m constantly changing too, reverting to some of my old patterns and ways of thinking I’d really rather leave behind me in the dust, just like Jessica would. For me, that’s almost always easier said than done. It could be that that’s where her stubbornness comes from. But in this book, I see hope for that stubbornness in both of us to soften.

  Jessica can heal herself. The rest of us? Well, we have the ability to try our best and just keep moving forward to the next right thing, no matter how chaotic the road or how perilous the choices. And in a way, that’s its own form of healing.

  Whatever flaws Jessica carries with her through the other side of the Gateway, I see in myself. Still. (Though her full power was only recently returned a few months ago in this storyline, and I’ve been hanging on to mine after having regained it almost eleven years ago.)

  I’m learning how to be a better person, a better mom and wife, a better author through the blending of black and white in real life. More than anything, I’m realizing more than I expected that the path leading us into what we know we’re capable of achieving can sometimes be the hardest one to follow.

  But if Jessica can step through a portal into another world that wants her to fail, I can certainly keep stepping through the portal of storytelling to bring back the magic into my own life.

  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for coming with us.

  —Kathrin Hutson (April 2021)

  Dedication

  To those who see the other side and feel like it’s too far away.

  The light still exists.

  We’ll reach it one step at a time together.

  Acknowledgments

  To all the industry professionals who had a part in the creation of this book and in shouting it out to the rooftops, especially Christie Stratos, Mickey Mikkelson, Rebecca Hamilton, Rachel Rawlings, and Christian Bentulan.

  A special shout-out this time to Jennifer Laslie, who’s become something of a hero with her incredible formatting skills and working with an author like me who tends to do everything last-minute. I’m still working on improving that.

  Thank you to Hannah Baller and Stephanie Mirro, two fellow authors who have followed and anticipated this next step in Jessica’s journey with the kind of enthusiasm that makes it so easy and so necessary to keep going.

  To all my ARC readers, who have devoured Jessica’s story as quickly and intensely as it has devoured me. Their advanced feedback has become the driving force behind my ability to stay focused on this series and move through it with way more inspiration than I ever expected.

  And, as always, I must and forever will thank my husband Henry, who puts up with my one-track writer’s brain and makes it possible for this to be my sole focus. We’re almost on the other side.

  Chapter 1

  Funny how staring into the face of insanity now made Jessica Northwood feel saner than when she’d tried to be someone she wasn’t.

  Of course, trying to be someone else had almost gotten her killed. Being herself got other people killed. And now all that destruction was supposed to save two worlds.

  In her circular bedroom on the second floor of Winthrop & Dirledge Security Banking, Jessica gazed at the desperate and still somehow composed fae sitting beside her on the gray couch. “Let’s start again.”

  “I hardly think that’s necessary.” Leandras ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. “We’ve already been through everything from the beginning. Perhaps it’s best to continue looking forward to the future without turning around to dig through the past.”

  She barked out a laugh. “Leandras, the past is what got us here. Sure, I just obliterated a huge chunk of it a few hours ago, but that doesn’t mean we can ignore everything that’s happened.”

  No. She couldn’t ignore what she’d done to Mickey Hargraves the Matahg in an abandoned warehouse less than twenty minutes away in Lakewood, Colorado. Trying to run from something like that was about as useful as not having faced him at all. Not having finally released herself from the impossible prison of her own making, the bars created by a Shattering spell and a dented tin box.

  Leandras took a deep breath. “A lack of scrutiny is not synonymous with ignorance, Jessica.”
<
br />   “Depends on who’s being ignorant and who’s being scrutinized.” She folded her arms and stared at him, and when the fae’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, Jessica sighed. “Sorry. I’m just...trying to wrap my head around this.”

  “I understand. I’m sure it isn’t a particularly easy thing to hear.”

  “What, that as the Guardian, I’m the only one who can escort you through the Gateway so you can roll through a dying world, gather even more fun magical toys to bring back with us, and try to stop a high-level bastard from tearing apart this world too?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Honestly, I’m starting to get used to hearing things like this.”

  “But you don’t enjoy hearing it.”

  “Who does?”

  Leandras gazed at her for another ten seconds that felt like eternity, then the corner of his mouth twitched in a tired, slightly amused smile. “High-level bastard. That’s an apt description in the simplest terms.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had my fair share of dealing with assholes.” She shrugged. “Maybe not as world-ending as this Dalu’Rázj guy, but they felt like it at the time.”

  “That Matahg was no exception.” The fae turned away from her to lean back against the couch and stared at the blank wall facing them. “Perhaps I misspoke.”

  Jessica couldn’t hold in a wry laugh. “That’s a first.”

  “Perhaps turning to the past may help you move forward. Or at least serve as a momentary distraction until you’ve had enough time to consider my request.”

  His request. There was no conceivable way to call it that. It wasn’t a favor or just the cherry on top of this life-or-death sundae. They’d just completed an intensely powerful and almost deadly spell to kick off the second phase of the reckoning, renounced first rights to the influential and moronic magical organizations who’d tried to bribe and threaten their way into Jessica’s good graces, and then staked Jessica’s claim on the Gateway door at the end of that hall outside to apparently whip it into shape.

  The Guardian was in control now. Jessica still had time before any important and most likely irreversible decisions had to be made. Only now, this fae who’d been her biggest headache over the last few weeks and her greatest advocate during the last few days had one more thing to ask of her. She couldn’t very well say no when the fate of an entire world on this side of the Gateway still faced the darkness that had taken over the world on the other side.

  Xahar’áhsh. Leandras’ home. The source of magic and every magical for countless generations who called Earth their home now too.

  “Jessica?”

  “What?” She blinked quickly and shot him a sidelong glance.

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  Puffing out a sigh through loose lips, Jessica leaned her head against the back of the couch and stared at the wooden beams crossing the ceiling of her room. “Talk about what?”

  “The Matahg. Your past. Your friends.”

  The grin spreading across her lips was tight and fueled only by the self-deprecating humor she’d learned to master so well. How else was she to protect herself in a world that seemed intent on digging up constant danger?

  “No, Leandras. I think that might have the opposite effect.”

  “I see. Because bottling yourself up all this time has obviously been the most successful route.”

  Jessica snorted. “I don’t need a therapist, thanks. Especially not one I’d probably just end up—”

  What? End up leaning on for emotional support? End up trusting?

  ‘End up in bed with?’

  She almost choked on her own thoughts repeated back to her in the bank’s eternally amused voice.

  I thought I told you to butt out.

  ‘Well, yeah. I did. But then the conversation just got way too interesting. I had to jump in, because holy shit. The stuff going through your head is nuts!’

  “End up what?” Leandras asked, his eyes wide with curiosity as he leaned toward her.

  “Nothing.” Jessica shook her head. “I don’t need to talk about anything.”

  “I see. So your firm stance on not ignoring everything that’s happened in the last few days doesn’t apply to your past or the huge chunk of it you obliterated.”

  “Okay, now you’re twisting my words.”

  “I believe that was verbatim.”

  ‘He’s right, witch. I mean, hey. If you wanna talk about it with me, that’s cool. But I already know everything in your head.’ The bank tsked. ‘Probably not as useful for you and your emotional stability—’

  “I’m fine,” she told them both.

  Leandras’ gaze prickled across her face as she stared at the ceiling. He looked at her like that way too much, like he was trying to solve some kind of puzzle. And that would be pretty hard for him right now, seeing as Jessica’s puzzle pieces had all just been scrambled, re-scrambled, and reassembled into what she’d never thought she’d become again.

  The bank sniggered. ‘You mean a hot mess?’

  “I know it wasn’t easy to do what you did this morning,” Leandras said softly. “And I don’t mean the technical aspects of our spell with the Laenmúr faction.”

  “See, that’s the thing. It was easy. Once I started, it was easier than anything I’ve done in a long time.” She turned to meet his dark gaze with the faint silver glow illuminating those eyes from within. Her lips stretched tight in a humorless, grimacing smile. “I wanted to kill him. And I did. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Very few things are that simple.” Leandras lifted his hand toward her face, as if he meant to brush her cheek or run his fingers through her hair.

  Jessica leaned slightly away from him but held his gaze. “It was simple with Mickey.”

  Despite how much she didn’t want to talk about it, despite how weird it felt to be sitting here with the fae like they actually knew each other and had done this a million times before, the urge to let it all out still bubbled up inside her.

  ‘So let it out. He just said you’ve got time.’

  And give him more ammo to use against me if something doesn’t go his way? No thanks.

  “Very well.” Leandras stood and brushed invisible lint of his dress slacks. “I imagine you’d like some time to think all this over. I’ll leave you and...the bank to discuss it.”

  A sly smirk bloomed on his lips when he shot her a sidelong glance.

  ‘Hey, he’s catching on.’

  “We don’t need to discuss it,” Jessica replied.

  ‘Wait, we don’t? Come on. Don’t tell me after everything you just did all on your lonesome, you’re gonna sit here and refuse to—’

  “I’ll take you,” she said.

  Both Leandras and the bank were finally blissfully silent. Then the fae cleared his throat. “I don’t expect you to make any rash decisions, Jessica—”

  “It’s not rash. You haven’t said a thing about the risks, but I’m a lot less worried about those at this point.” She pushed herself off the couch and nodded. “But you told me what might happen if someone doesn’t do something to stop this Lord Destructo on the other side.”

  The bank sniggered. ‘You and your nicknames.’

  Yeah, you too.

  Leandras dipped his head. “It’s an eventuality. Not a probability.”

  “Okay, well, even better, then.” Jessica ran a hand through her hair. “Look, it took enough last-minute survival just to finish what we started this morning. We’re lucky no one died in that warehouse. I mean, no one on our side.”

  The fae’s eyes narrowed at that. “Our side. Yes.”

  And that was exactly why she didn’t completely trust him. Leandras said weird shit like, and it made her question everything he’d shown her. In all likelihood, what he’d shown her was only what he wanted her to see and nothing more. But the Gateway rippling and bulging half an hour ago in the hallway like a balloon about to burst hadn’t been Leandras’ doing. Neither had the cripplingly tight and intoxicating hold that for
ce behind the glowing green door had claimed over her just a few days before.

  Jessica knew there was something awful on the other side of that dungeon door that opened a portal into another world. Without a doubt. And she’d base her decisions on that, if nothing else.

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured, Jessica.”

  “Please.” She gave him a wry laugh. “You’ve been pressuring me since we met. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life holed up in here, waiting for that door to explode someday so the hell on the other side can coming swarming through into my bank. And beyond. So we’ll do it.”

  “Excellent.” The fae held her gaze with a vicelike ferocity, and his eyes pulsed once with silver light. “I assure you you won’t regret it.”

  “Yeah, don’t make any promises you can’t keep.”

  ‘You’re doing the right thing, witch.’

  We both are.

  Leandras spread his arms and dipped his head toward her in what would have looked like complete agreement and concession in anyone else. Coming from him, though, it still just looked like he was mocking her.

  Jessica glanced at the ceiling to finally break his gaze. “So how long do we have?”

  “Give me a day to gather what I need. I don’t imagine you’re familiar with the Hruandir Influence.”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Then I’ll guide you through it. It’s on a bit of a timer, if you will. Just under forty-eight hours to...incubate. More or less. And then the Gateway opens without first rights and at the Guardian’s sole discretion.”

  “Great.” She pointed at him in warning. “Unless someone else walks through that front door downstairs and can prove they have a better idea, you have three days to convince me I’m not seriously screwing up with this.”

  Leandras let out a low, humming chuckle. “I hardly think you need convincing. But I will do my best not to make the next three days any more difficult than they have to be.”