Page 120 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Kordelia returned to her throne-like chair and clicked her heels. “They may look identical, but trust me, they are worlds different. Hanging out with Seren is like hanging out with a party full of people high on Summer’s Dust—" An upper drug known for giving people false happiness and far too much energy.
“Seren disappeared over twenty years ago, leaving New Swansea and everything she’d known behind. Kordelia told me she thought she might be back, but I didn’t believe her.” Constance sat up quickly, crossed the room, filled a glass with bourbon, and returned to pacing faster than Quinn could blink. “But I should’ve known. Seren is dynamite, waiting to explode.”
“You’re drinking?” Kordelia raised a concerned brow.
“Yes,” Constance said. “It seems like a good time to start up again.”
Kordelia let out a long-suffering sigh. “You should’ve grabbed me a glass,” Kordelia pouted before standing up and grabbing one for herself. “Anyone else want a drink?”
Everyone shook their heads.
Kordelia turned to her sometimes-lover and said, “See, that’s the proper way to get yourself a drink.”
Quinn didn’t know how to process any of this information, especially the lies, so she stood in silence, her heart tumbling.
“I should have known too,” Emrys said, pulling his cravat from around his neck and removing his suit jacket. “Twenty-five years ago, Seren fell in love, but her romance ended very poorly. Her betrothed was a council member, but he wanted to have eternal youth like Seren, so they went to a mirror and bargained. The mirror gave him eternal youth, but it turned him into a monster. Or at least part of him into a monster. He was split in two—one half of him remained himself, and the other half only wanted chaos and destruction.”
“It was like a demon lurking under his skin,” Constance added. “Gideon held the demon at bay for a long time—”
“Until he didn’t.” Kordelia took a sip from her glass. “But I always thought he traded his empathy to a mirror?”
“He did, eventually,” Constance said. “Or at least parts of it.”
“What happened to him?” Jevon asked, leaning against the wall, tapping his fingers on his knee.
“He died at the hands of the council,” Emrys said. “Seren vowed her revenge, and then she disappeared. I honestly thought she was more likely to refuse to drink blood and turn to stone than do anything to hurt anyone. She was depressed, not murderous. She was always a bit erratic, but she was kind and gentle at her core.”
“So, now she is back and taking her revenge? What does that mean for the mirrors and your paintings?” Jevon asked.
“That’s the true question,” Emrys said. “What does she want, and why has she been so desperate to get it?”
“Maybe she just wants chaos.” Kordelia bit at her fingernails in a far too seductive way. “For revenge.”
Constance shifted uncomfortably. “She wants to destroy the Accords. That’s always been her goal to destroy the laws that bind vampires.”
Emrys rubbed his chin and stared at Constance, taking in her every micro movement and every one of her features, almost as if he were trying to paint her correctly in his head. “We have another problem.”
“What?” Four voices said in unison.
“Seren knows all of our plans.” He closed his eyes and sighed, almost as if he were mad at himself. “I should have known.” His face fell into a mask of shadows. “She’s been with us all along. Always one step ahead.”
Quinn curled her fingers into the feathers on her skirt. Still too frozen in shock to do anything but listen. Her best friend wasn’t who she said she was. She was a murderer, and she killed Quinn’s parents. It was too much to process.
Tears fell freely from Quinn’s eyes as she shook and shook and shook. Everyone was too preoccupied with their schemes and conversation to notice her.
“That means she knows about the glitter bombs.” Giselle squeezed her fists tight, her face red with fury. While Quinn froze, Giselle fought. “She has the upper hand.”
“No, she had the upper hand,” Emrys said. “She has no idea where you were going to place them or how they work, and now that we know her plans and what she’s been doing, we can stop her.”
“So, what do we do now?” Giselle asked, worry twisting her normally brave features.
Fear, unease, and exhaustion painted the room. Quinn was still a statue of silence.
Eventually, Emrys glanced at her distressed expression, walkedover to her, and placed a soft, gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s a lot to process. You’re allowed to be afraid and feel betrayed. You’re allowed to take a moment.”
“We don’t have a moment,” Quinn breathed. “We need to find the third Blood Mirror and lure Seren into a trap.”
“Yes.” He stroked her cheek. “But first, we have to keep up our appearances and get to the Illusion Ceremony. The entire city is waiting for me to light the pyre. And I need to be there, or it would raise questions we don’t want to be asked.”
