Chapter 18 The Vault
THE VAULT
The world didn’t change all at once.
There was no violent shift, no jarring tear in reality like before.
Just a sudden, disorienting stillness as the pull of the portal released me, and my feet met solid ground once more.
For a moment, I didn’t move, couldn’t, because my mind hadn’t followed me through.
It was still there. Still caught in that final second, locked onto the look on his face as the door opened.
Wye.
The memory struck with a force that stole the breath straight from my lungs, his expression seared into me in a way I knew wouldn’t fade anytime soon.
The way his eyes had found mine instantly, the way everything in him had sharpened in that single moment.
And then that shift, that devastating, furious understanding as he realized what was happening.
I could still hear it, that roar of anger that had followed me through the portal, echoing in my head like something alive, something that refused to let me go.
My chest tightened painfully, the weight of it pressing down so hard it made it difficult to breathe properly. Because I hadn’t given him anything. No explanation. No warning. Nothing that might have softened what I had just done. I had simply left.
And somehow… that felt worse than anything else.
I swallowed against it, forcing the thought down before it could take hold any further. Knowing that if I let myself linger there, even for a second longer, I wouldn’t be entirely sure I’d be able to keep going.
So instead, I focused on where I was.
Cold air brushed faintly against my skin, carrying with it the distant hum of traffic and the low murmur of voices that felt weirdly normal. Too normal.
My gaze lifted slowly, almost cautiously, as though I wasn’t entirely convinced the world around me wouldn’t shift again if I moved too quickly.
But it didn’t.
Instead, what I saw only made my brows draw together in quiet confusion.
A building stood before me, large and imposing in a way that felt entirely out of place with everything I had just come from.
Old stone rose high above street level, worn slightly with age but still solid and still commanding in its presence.
The kind of structure that had clearly been built to last rather than impress.
Ornate detailing framed tall windows that stretched up toward the upper floors.
While thick columns flanked the entrance, their surfaces were carved with the kind of craftsmanship that spoke of a time when things had been made to endure rather than simply exist.
And above it all, etched deep into the stone in bold, unmissable lettering,
BANK.
I stared at it for a second longer than necessary, my thoughts still catching up with what my eyes were seeing as the disconnect settled in.
“A bank?” I said under my breath, the words slipping out before I could stop them. My voice edged with quiet disbelief as I glanced toward where Bo stood beside me, unseen by everyone else passing by without a second glance.
“You’ve brought me to a bank.”
No one reacted, but what’s more, no one even looked.
People moved past us on the pavement as though nothing had happened, as though two people hadn’t just appeared out of thin air in the middle of the street.
A couple walked by mid-conversation, a man brushed past with his phone pressed to his ear, completely unaware of how impossible that should have been.
Bo, of course, sounded entirely unbothered.
“Not just a bank,” he replied lightly, his tone carrying that same irritating calm that suggested he already knew exactly what I was looking at, even if I didn’t.
“And try not to sound so disappointed.”
“Why, are you gonna tell me your name is Gringotts and that we're currently standing in Diagon Alley?” I asked, making him frown, something that drew his bushy brows tightly together.
“What in the depths of lust are you talking about?” I rolled my eyes and said,
“Holy Goddess, I have got to educate you, so here’s the deal, we survive this, and the next time we order pizza it will be whilst doing a Harry Potter marathon,” I promised, making him ask,
“Who’s Harry Pothead?” I groaned, a sigh and repeated,
“Potter, not Pothead.”
“Oh yeah, that sounds way better… What is he, a gardener?” I released a frustrated sigh and suggested we get back on track.
“The Bank, Bo, why are we at a bank?”
“Well, it sure as shit isn’t to make a deposit… come on, and don’t worry, I don’t intend to rob the joint,” he said now walking towards the building and leaving me no choice but to follow. I also couldn’t help but wonder where in the world were we?
The heavy wooden doors at the entrance had been restored rather than replaced, maintaining the old-world character that defined the rest of the building.
Pale gray stone blocks rose around them, worn just enough to reveal their age, while tall, paneled windows stretched upward, adding to the sense that this place belonged to a time long before the modern world.
I exhaled slowly, pushing away the last remnants of hesitation as I stepped forward, drawn toward the entrance despite myself. The doors gave way easily beneath my hand, and the moment I crossed the threshold, the world shifted again.
The air changed first, warmer, softer even. It carried the faint hum of conversation, the distant clink of glass, and the low murmur of music that felt entirely too normal after everything that had just happened. Which was when it hit me, it wasn’t a bank at all.
It was a hotel.
Polished marble floors stretched out beneath my feet, gleaming softly under warm, golden lighting that reflected off brass fixtures and dark wood accents.
Everything about it had been carefully designed to feel expensive without needing to say it outright.
There was a quiet kind of elegance to the space.
The kind that suggested money had been spent not just on how it looked, but on how it felt to exist within it.
People moved through it easily, unbothered, dressed in everything from tailored suits to casual designer weekend wear. Their conversations blended into that same low, indistinct hum as they passed one another without a second thought.
Humans.
The realization settled in quickly, bringing with it a flicker of shock before something dangerously close to relief. Because for the first time since stepping into Wye’s world, nothing here immediately screamed otherworldly or different.
Just… normal.
Which, if anything, made me more uneasy.
My steps slowed slightly as I moved further into the lobby, my gaze flicking instinctively from one person to the next.
As though I might catch something out of place if I looked hard enough.
But there was nothing. No lingering stares, no whispered reactions, no indication that I had just stepped out of something that shouldn’t exist and into somewhere that absolutely did.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I murmured under my breath as I took in the space around me.
“It’s so… normal.”
“Other than the girl currently talking to herself, yeah, totally normal,” Bo replied dryly from beside me, and well, he wasn’t wrong, as a woman passing by slowed just enough to glance at me twice.
Oh, brilliant. Now I was the weird one. So, without thinking, I lifted my hand to my ear, tilting my head slightly as though I was listening to something through an invisible headset.
“Oh, hey, yes, I’m at the hotel, and I’m just heading there now,” I muttered under my breath, nodding faintly like I was mid-conversation. Bo let out a quiet laugh, the sound laced with amusement as he looked up at me.
“Oh yes, that’s much better, so very convincing,” he drawled sarcastically.
I shot him a look, my frown scathing as I dropped my hand back to my side, resisting the urge to say anything else out loud.
Something that included the F-word and a new, colorful name for him that referenced the part of his anatomy he sat on.
But instead of looking like someone who still had an invisible friend, I started toward the reception desk only to feel the faintest tug at the edge of my sweater. My brows drew together slightly as I glanced down.
“We’re not going that way,” Bo said before nodding in a different direction. Towards where the lighting dipped just enough to cast longer shadows across a section of the room that looked older.
It was easy to miss at first glance, tucked just beyond the main flow of guests, but once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
The vault.
The original structure had been preserved rather than removed.
Showcased into a deliberate feature and built into the design of the hotel as though it were something worth displaying rather than hiding.
Thick steel doors stood partially open, framed by velvet ropes and subtle signage that suggested it was more of an attraction than anything functional now.
A piece of history repurposed into something guests could admire without ever really understanding.
A few people lingered nearby, glancing inside with mild curiosity before moving on, seemingly unimpressed.
“That’s where we’re going?” I asked under my breath, my voice quieter now.
“Ah, now you’re paying attention,” Bo replied simply.
And just like that, normal didn’t last long as he started to lead me into the vault, making me hiss,
“I am not sure we are allowed in here.” He grunted a laugh at that and told me,
“Don’t sweat it, girly, the humans won’t see us.
” I looked around nervously before following him inside.
My steps slowed without me meaning them to as I took it in.
My gaze lifted instinctively to the walls lined from floor to ceiling with rows upon rows of safety deposit boxes.
Brass-faced, aged just enough to show it, and each one marked with numbers that caught the light in a dull, muted gleam.