Page 104 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
He pinched his lips in confusion. “Of course, I have a vacuum.”
“Do you have thirteen vacuums?” Quinn wrinkled her nose. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but Giselle needed motors, and one vacuum would not be enough. “Or access to motors? Vacuum motors would be the easiest to convert. Or possibly a camera. How many cameras and clocks do you have?”
Emrys stroked his lapel. It seemed to be something he did when he was nervous or confused or needed to center himself. “What are you going to make?”
“Silver confetti bombs,” Giselle said.
“That could work,” he said. “At least it would slow a vampire down long enough for any humans to get to safety.”
“It’s brilliant, Giselle. I’ll help you make them,” Quinn said.
“No,I'llbe making them while you work out whatever it is you two need to work out.” Giselle waved a hand, motioning between Quinn and the prince, her annoyance on full display.
“What do you mean?” Quinn raised an eyebrow, confusion licking at her core.
“Oh, come on, Quinn. You two obviously have a lot to talk aboutin private,” Giselle said, cocking her head and examing the grandfather clock as if looking for the best way to gut it.
Emrys locked his gaze on Quinn as he slid his hands into his pockets. “We do have things to talk about.”
Quinn knew this, but she didn’t know if she was ready to find out the consequences of him saving her life again. The lack of callouses on her feet indicated she wasn’t going to like what she heard.
Thirty-Five
While Constance and Jevon helped Giselle create glitter bombs, Emrys and Quinn strolled through the palace in quiet. The only noise was the clicking of her heels against marble. But the prince’s footfalls left no sound.
Eerie.
If the tension between the two were a noise, it would be a string quartet playing a somber melody at the climax of a ballet. A dark and bone-chilling song.
Emrys creaked open a door, the wood echoing old and forgotten tones. The ballroom was vastly different than the last time. Almost like the palace was sentient and in a terrible mood. There were seventeen well-known sentient buildings in New Swansea City. And given that when the Viridian’s mirror was in a bad mood, the club's walls cried, Quinn was not counting against the possibility that the castle was alive.
Quinn’s Mary Jane heels clicked against the marble floor as she glided through the room. The lights flickered in the wall sconces, singing a harmony of unease. The castle dimmed, and shadows danced with enchantment, some large and forbidding. Others were soft and small. And some a ghostly echo. The windows were covered in thick curtains, keeping out the light.
Whips of smoke lingered in the air like a myriad of candles had just blown out.
Emrys walked into the center of the room, but she didn’t follow, preferring to stand at the edges of the darkness.
A chill licked Quinn’s arms and down her spine. Eventually unable to wait any longer, she said, “What is it that we need to speak about?” Her chest rose with her deep breaths. “You look like you’re leading me to my execution.”
He chuckled. “I think it would be far more accurate to say it ismyexecution.”
“Why?”
Emrys whipped around, and mist and shadows quickly engulfed him as he disappeared. A gust of wind stroked Quinn’s skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. She reached out to the place he’d just been standing, and her fingers slid through thin air.
Vampire speed or something else?
Quinn pivoted, searching.
“Because you are going to hate me after I tell you,” the shadows whispered. Emrys controlled them. They pulsed with each of his words. Was that a vampire power?
He appeared behind her, his breath mingling with her crimson hair. The distance between them felt like a physical, visceral thing.
It was a gnawing tension, begging to be released.
Quinn shivered, and her thoughts immediately drew to their kiss and how much she desperately wanted him to touch her like that again. Touch her with more than just his fingers.
“I had to mark you.” His throat caught and brought her back to the moment.
