The Secret Coin (Accessory to Magic Book 3) Page 9

  But so far, Jessica had been one insanely lucky witch.

  The thought made her huff out a wry chuckle as she brushed her fingers one more time over the fresh scar. Lucky, sure. And hadn’t she always known there was a fine line between luck and stupidity?

  She half expected the bank to make some kind of witty and entirely unamusing comment about that, but the commentary never came. Instead, the bank switched off both the overhead light and the lamp on the nightstand. The blue pendant lying against her bare chest responded as well. Just a single soft pulse of blue light, but it was enough to illuminate her chest and reveal that yes, Confucius had indeed taken care of the magical burn as well.

  The attack from that orc asshole who’d brought magical fire to a drunken vestrohím fight in the alley two nights ago had spread more violently over her skin and more deeply into her than Jessica had expected. More than she’d even stopped to consider, and the bank had been trying to warn her of this all along. The bank had known, and Jessica had refused to listen.

  She had to do better from here on out. She had to quit being such a stupid, stubborn witch with a screwed-up sense of morality. Maybe that morality had gotten her through prison, but the bank sure as hell hadn’t chosen her to take Tabitha’s place because she’d stripped away her own magic and pretended to be “rehabilitated.” It had chosen her for who she was and what she could do.

  Neither of those things were much use to her if she didn’t swallow her pride and finally do what had to be done.

  ‘You know, I have to say I’m really glad to hear you thinking like this,’ the bank whispered as Jessica hauled herself onto the mattress. ‘And I get it. You gotta come to the same answers all on your own. But we’re a team. Right?’

  “Yeah, bank,” she muttered, crawling under the covers. “We’re a team.”

  Jessica closed her eyes, and for a few blissful moments, it seemed the bank had decided to leave it at that for the night. It was way too late to keep talking through all the overwhelming problems she still had to face, and she’d be getting far too few hours of sleep before her alarm went off and she had to get up and do it all over again.

  The second she felt herself drifting off, the bank’s gentle voice jolted her out of what she was sure would only be restless dozing.

  ‘Jessica.’

  What? If she could have groaned in her own mind, she would have.

  ‘We can’t stop the cost of undoing the Shattering.’

  I know. Let me sleep—

  ‘But what if there was a way to aim it? At someone specific?’

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared at the overwhelming darkness cocooning her in this circular room on the second floor that had become her only real refuge in the entire state. The only place she could just let everything disappear while she dropped into the unconsciousness of sleep.

  “Like who?” she whispered.

  ‘Like someone who deserves it.’ The dark thread of glee in the bank’s voice should have alarmed her—if she were adamant about keeping her screwed-up sense of morality, at least.

  But it didn’t. A slow smile spread across her lips as she let her heavy eyelids close again.

  Like Mickey Hargraves. There was a magical who deserved to pay the price for what he’d done. Even for what Jessica had done. And she wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt or regret over undoing the Shattering on her own magic and directing it at the Matahg who’d ripped her life to shreds. At least, the life she’d come to know as her own in the last eight years. The life she might have a chance at reclaiming, if she managed not to screw up again in the immediate future.

  ‘I like the way you think, witch.’

  Yeah. Maybe they’d found the solution after all.

  It felt like she’d barely slipped off to sleep before her alarm blared from her phone. Even with the thing still buried in the back pocket of her jeans crumpled on the floor, it was loud enough to startle Jessica awake again. She flung the covers off her body and stumbled groggily out of bed before snatching up her jeans and swatting them like an old, dusty rug before she finally found her phone.

  She could’ve broken the damn thing trying to turn off that alarm. But then the time blinked at her on the screen—6:32 a.m. A new day. A new chance to keep moving forward, and Jessica had a bank to run.

  ‘Good morning, sunshine.’ The bank sniggered. ‘I’d say you should hit the sack early tonight to catch up, but I don’t think that’s in the cards for you today.’

  Jessica staggered toward her dresser, dropped her phone on it, and rubbed the heavy remnants of sleep from her eyes. “That’s literally the worst conversation starter first thing in the morning.”

  ‘Okay, fine. I’ll change it, then. Wanna talk about the fae making himself at home in my kitchen?’

  She froze at her open shirt drawer and let out a long, irritated sigh. “Well, the binding never said anything about staying out of the kitchen. Our kitchen, by the way. You can’t even use it.”

  ‘Arguing semantics with you is like trying to explain quantum mechanics to a toddler.’

  Ignoring the bank’s chipper insults, she snatched up a t-shirt, tugged it on, and rifled through her pants drawer next until she pulled out an old pair of jeans with rips in the knees. Not as a fashion statement but from one too many jobs where she’d slid across the floor on her knees to avoid magical blasts from security wards or a wayward attack from some dumbass guard who thought he could take on Corpus in their prime, armed only with low-level protection spells.

  ‘One too many? Come on, Jessica. You spent way more time on your knees than that for your so-called profession.’ The bank sniggered. ‘Hey, now that was a century-appropriate play on words. Worked for the last few centuries before this too. What’s that called? Inawindow? Inyouwent…though?’

  “Innuendo.” Jessica zipped up her jeans and stuffed her feet into her gray Converses before heading to the bathroom. “And you’re falling a little short if you’re trying to rile me up with that one.”

  ‘Just trying to lighten the mood.’

  She rushed through combing out her hair and tying it back in a loose ponytail, splashed water on her face, and brushed her teeth in record time. Then she gave herself a moment to study the scar on her lower back and the complete lack of raw, red, angry streaks racing across her chest and neck when she pulled down her shirt collar.

  The same way Leandras had last night, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with her.

  ‘You know, for the long list of weird shit you’ve done in the bedroom with…whoever, you’d think a half-dead fae peering down your shirt wouldn’t even make the bottom three.’

  “It doesn’t. Shut up.”

  Jessica took one final glance in the mirror and wrinkled her nose. Yeah, she looked exhausted. Like she’d been through hell and survived. But the dark circles under her eyes were gone—mostly—and a little color had returned to her cheeks.

  Good enough.

  “He still in the kitchen?”

  ‘Yep. Don’t bother trying to surprise him with a good morning and breakfast in bed or anything. Hey, we didn’t even give him a bed.’

  “I know. He can handle it.” She hurried out of the bathroom toward the dresser to grab her phone off its surface. “You can see where he is all the time and what he’s doing, right?”

  ‘That’s a dumb question.’

  Okay, so yes.

  “When I’m not in the same room with him, I want you to keep me updated. Got it?”

  ‘Ooh. Guardian and spy. I like it…’

  Rolling her eyes, Jessica shoved her phone into her back pocket and headed for the door.

  ‘Um…excuse you.’ The top drawer of her dresser jerked open with a thud. ‘I believe you’re forgetting the most important accessory of the day, witch.’

  She glanced briefly at her open underwear drawer and shook her head. “Not yet. If it’s really possible to aim the blowback from reversing the Shattering, I need you to find out what that is first. And
we have to make sure we have it down perfectly. Then we find Mickey.”

  ‘And if the ghost from your recently nonexistent past comes blasting through the doors before that? What then?’

  That wouldn’t happen. She’d had six years to give him the slip, and that night when she was fourteen had started the domino effect halfway across the country. They still had time.

  “Put up whatever block around those memories you said you could put up. Then figure out exactly what needs to happen so I can take my magic back with a clear conscience.”

  Jessica sharply twisted the doorknob, opened the door, and stepped into the short hallway before closing back up behind herself.

  ‘Listen to you. Giving clear-cut orders like you actually know what you’re doing. I like this side of you, Jessica.’

  Well, it was a step in the right direction, at least. And this side of her still had work to do before Jessica Northwood had all sides of her intact again.

  She cast the Gateway door a scathing glance, but whatever green-glowing joker existed on the other side didn’t bother trying to mess with her right now. It was too early for that crap anyway.

  Before she got even a quarter of the way down the staircase, the scent of coffee and bacon assaulted her. Her mouth watered instantly, but she paused on the steps and scowled.

  Leandras was making her breakfast.

  Somehow, it felt like a complete violation.

  ‘Aw. You’re getting territorial. That’s so cute.’

  No, I’m getting suspicious.

  Chapter Ten

  Jessica hurried down the rest of the stairs, making sure her footsteps fell loud and clear and purposefully stepping in all the right spots to make the old, worn wood creak and groan to maximum effect.

  ‘You’re suspicious about a little coffee and bacon? Come on. Last I checked, that was the most benign thing in the world.’

  “We don’t even have bacon,” she muttered as she reached the bottom landing.

  “Your fridge says otherwise.” Leandras’ voice rose from the kitchen with the sizzle of bacon fat and the last burble of a coffeepot finishing a nice fresh pot of hot coffee.

  Frowning, she slowly approached the entryway to the kitchen and peered around the doorless frame.

  Leandras stood in front of the stove beside the sink, still in his silver satin suit pants, but he’d removed the jacket. His white button-up shirt was tucked into his pants, the cuffs unbuttoned and rolled in crisp lines halfway up his forearms. The fae’s entire getup had done a complete one-eighty from the night before—no char marks, no burned hems, no coat of dust or scuffs along his black dress shoes. His arm moved easily over the frying pan as he flipped the bacon with a pair of tongs, completely unconcerned by that particular food’s propensity to splatter grease all over the white shirt. Somehow, there wasn’t any splattering grease at all.

  He turned his head to look at her and flashed her a wide, glistening grin. It should have made Jessica furious, that grin. Part of it did, but only because of the flutter in her chest at the sight of it. Leandras looked more now like the fae she’d met that first day he’d walked into the bank, expecting Tabitha and finding Jessica behind the lobby’s desk instead. He looked like the infuriatingly calm, collected, carefree, gorgeous magical she would have had no problem sitting down with over a few drinks.

  If Jessica could still drink without completely losing all self-control. If they’d had anything else to talk about other than the bank and the Gateway and both their parts to play in all of it.

  “Good morning.” Leandras widened his eyes. They’d lost their completely silver aura and had now returned to the dark, alluring fae eyes with a faint silver glow when she didn’t look directly at them. He flipped another piece of bacon without looking away from her, still grinning.

  Like this was some kind of morning-after ritual of theirs, where he made her breakfast and she came down looking groggy and pissed before he swept her away in his arms again.

  Yeah, right.

  “You look…better.” It was the only thing she could think of to say.

  Leandras’ gaze didn’t stray from her face. “So do you.”

  “Yeah, well, I blame the immortal lizard.” Jessica slipped into the narrow kitchen and sidled her way between the fae at the stove and the opposite counter, trying not to get too close. “Um…do you mind?”

  “What can I do for you?”

  ‘Wow. He’s really laying it on thick, isn’t he?’

  Some other fae trick up his sleeve? Yeah, probably.

  Jessica glanced at his bare forearms. “You made coffee, and the cups are up there, so—”

  “Clean mugs by the coffeemaker. Give me two minutes, and I’ll be finished with breakfast.”

  Scowling, she headed for the coffeepot and found that yes, he’d also made himself at home enough in her kitchen to not only make bacon and coffee but to also lay out all the fixings for coffee. What was this?

  She poured herself a cup, set the coffeepot back on the burner, then paused before fixing the rest of her drink. “Okay, I thought we made the binding terms perfectly clear. You get one room, and that’s where you are outside normal business hours.”

  “Yes, Jessica.” Leandras lowered the heat of the burner slightly and wiggled the frying pan over the flames. “And that I am to stay out of sight of customers and clientele at all times.”

  “It’s not even seven. How’d you get into the kitchen?”

  That made him pause, and he slowly turned to study her. “I walked out of that dusty closet you call a room and entered this one. And I’m quite sure that if I’d attempted anything against the terms of our binding, I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you. Not in this form, at the very least.”

  “But it’s Thursday.”

  Leandras chuckled. “You seem much improved physically, but I’m starting to have my doubts about your mental state this morning.”

  She glared at him, but he’d fully returned to the last round of bacon flips, looking completely unaffected by her frustration.

  How had the fae found a loophole with that one? Business hours were business hours. She’d be opening up the bank in less that fifteen minutes, and—

  ‘There…might be a small loophole,’ the bank whispered.

  Jessica snatched up the spoon resting beside the carton of milk and bowl of sugar on the counter, gritting her teeth. Care to elaborate?

  ‘I mean, technically, the earliest opening time is six-thirty.’

  On Tuesdays.

  ‘Yeah, I know that. But you didn’t exactly specify operating hours in the binding. You just said operating hours.’

  Well, wasn’t that just the best way to start their first official full day with the binding in full effect and both of them in good health?

  ‘You’d be in better shape with the rest of your magic—’

  I already told you, bank. I’ll undo the Shattering when we figure out how to aim the effects. So shouldn’t you be getting to work figuring that out?

  ‘I can multitask, Jessica. You should know that by now.’

  She’d poured way more milk into her coffee than she’d intended and slammed the carton back down on the counter. Two furiously heaping spoonfuls of sugar followed, and as the hissing sizzle of frying bacon died down now that the fae was satisfied, the kitchen filled with the obnoxious clink of the spoon knocking against the sides of her mug as she stirred.

  Leandras casually plated the bacon and finally cast Jessica a cautious glance. “I don’t usually find myself taking pity on inanimate objects, but I might be making an exception for that spoon.”

  “My spoons are just fine, thank you.” She let the spoon clatter to the counter, then headed down the opposite end of the kitchen to avoid having to step past the amused fae delicately ripping off plies of paper towels.

  This was all just a joke to him, wasn’t it? They’d almost died last night, and here he was, making himself at home and mocking her in her own house—business, build
ing, bank, whatever—like they didn’t have a care in the world.

  Sipping tentatively at the hot and admittedly delicious coffee, Jessica had to walk past the open and slightly charred door of the office that was now Leandras own private sanctuary inside Winthrop & Dirledge. The urge to glance inside was much too strong, and when she did, she found the gúlmai resting right there on the floor of the office, front and center.

  It was completely empty.

  No purple and silver glow. No buzz of magical energy flaring up through the glass panels that couldn’t have been mere glass. Just an empty box.

  ‘Well, I guess that’s one mystery solved. No more extra magic lying around for the fae to have to protect or consume or send you on errands to retrieve.’

  She ignored the bank’s running commentary and headed toward the desk. Before she could even sit down in the rolling office chair, Leandras entered the lobby from the back hallway, a cup of coffee in one hand and the plate of bacon in the other.

  “This seemed the most appropriate selection. You don’t have eggs, and… Well, I won’t say I’m a fan of Pop-Tarts.”

  The mention of Pop-Tarts made Jessica swallow thickly. Yes, she’d kept a box of them stocked in the kitchen cupboard. For emergencies.

  ‘Aw, don’t try to rationalize it.’ The bank chuckled. ‘You keep those weird cookies because they remind you of Tabitha. Hey, I get it. I feel like she’s right here with us too when you drop those gooey crumbs all over the floor.’

  Okay, sure. That was another reason.

  Jessica pressed her lips together and watched the fae set the bacon on the desk like he’d done it a million times—like this was their own special breakfast nook, and now they’d be sitting here, drinking coffee together on a cloudy fall morning before business started.

  But they had a different kind of business to get down to this morning. And for some reason, the first thing that popped out of her mouth as a semblance of an opener was, “I didn’t see you bring a change of clothes.”