Page 71 of Jay's Silence

Probably?

It’s changing your vision, right?

But it’s not giving me more access to my mates’ powers.

Move past what you don’t have and focus on what you do.

I snapped my head up. Fuck me, my third eye.

I stood and crept toward the bend. A peek around it revealed the manhole opened. Light from the activities above occasionally spilled into the tunnel. A bit of yellow police tape dangled down.

All of London was after me. A few months ago, I clearly broke into a mundane and well-loved human museum, used magic to hurt Joe Schmos, and stole another piece of Gorm’s casket. My magic was on video, which was one of the big no-nos of the magical world. To make things worse, I literally came back and did it a second time, though with less stealing this time. Adding to my list of offenses, I incited a magical brawl between dragon shifters, Orcs, and demons.

I don’t think your fortune’s going to get you out of this one.

The Orcs were not my fault. They should have known better than to be out in plain sight.

It’s still getting pinned on you.

My accountant will love this one.

Unlike Dublin, London had high-security, magical holding cells made to contain gods. Even with my magic, I’d be hard-pressed to get out. Long story short, I needed to leave London, and this particular manhole wasn’t an option.

I needed to find another.

Story of your life?

I snickered before groaning.

Keeping a hand on the wall, I crept back to my spot around the corner. Third eyes were weird because they weren’t innately magical. Even humans had third eyes, though most didn’t know how to open them. Part of opening your third eye was believing in yourself and how much you were truly capable of.

You’re definitely not doing well on that front.

Because the other part is being magical, and currently, I’m not.

Once a person's third eye was opened, they could see magic. How much magic, again, depended on skills and training. Until recently, I could literally see everything.

You still have two dragons to bang before you can see everything. You’ve only done half.

True, true.

And you can’t see the curse on you or how to break it.

If I could scowl at myself, I would.

The point is the barrier to Under London should recognize me as magical with my third eye opened.

I pulled the pack off my back. The straps scraped against my road rash-covered side, and I bit back a hiss. I fished out my phone, honestly amazed it survived the brawl. Hooding the flash, I clicked on the flashlight app and explored.

It didn’t take me long to find another manhole. The woosh of air let me know it led into one of the undergrounds, most likely with working trains.

If I was wrong about my eye, my blind leap would land me on live tracks instead of Under London.

If I was right, I would at least be in the same general vicinity as my mates. Without my magic, we’d all be trapped down there, but we’d be together. My heart squeezed. My mates. Fuck me. Ten minutes apart and I already pined like a teenager.

Resettling the phone in my pack, I tightened the straps and opened my third eye. A kaleidoscope of colors churned under me—the border between London and Under London. Before I could think my way out of this, I squeezed my human eyes shut and jumped.

I am magical. I believe in myself. Fuck, I promise I do.