Page 133 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
“I’m not giving up,” Quinn said and cupped Blood’s face. Tears painted her cheeks. “I am not giving up. I am making the choice for my family. You must understand that.”
“You can’t. You’re too young.” Blood stroked away one of Quinn’s tears.
“Seren once told me that she would do anything for love,” Quinn said. “I didn’t understand at the time, but I do now. I have to save my friends and New Swansea from Jevon.”
A surge of warm conviction spread over Quinn, and she tingled. She had to trade her soul for the paintings, but what if she got more? What if she found a way to live both a long life and protect the paintings—a way to keep them from Jevon, a way to live long enough to defeat him?
Her chest rose and fell in devastation, but she would be resilient. She would do this. Fear was a weight constricting her chest. Fear of the unknown. Fear of making a mistake. Fear of losing all control and losing herself.
But her greatest fear of all was being powerless and unable to save the ones she loved. Not again. Not like when her parents died. She was damning herself forever to a glass cage, but it was the only choice she felt comfortable making. It was a choice formed out of love.
“Here is my proposal: I’ll trade my soul for these paintings.” Quinn waved at them. “And exact duplicates of each one. Additionally, I won’t surrender my soul until I have lived a long vampiric life with no hidden consequences.”
“You’re a clever one.” A petal on the mirror’s face rose in a delighted smile. “But I cannot accept your trade. It’s too long of time. I can give you six months.”
Quinn sucked in a breath. “Agreed.”
“So it shall be.” As the last word left her mouth, the facade slipped from her body—all the flowers and puzzle pieces, leaving a girl with honey-brown hair and golden eyes. She walked over to Quinn and held out her hand.
Hesitantly, Quinn slid her fingers into the mirror’s. When their skin met, a flush cascaded through her body and on her back, a carving etching into her skin.
“You have until the last leaf falls on the tree,” the mirror said with a nod.
Quinn sucked in a breath and rolled her shoulders back. This was a worry for another time. But now she needed to get to work.
She focused on her task and greeted the real paintings. Quickly, one by one, she popped them from their frames, placed them into a pile, and once all of them were out, she gently rolled them up together. Then she ripped a long piece of her petticoat and tied the paintings to her leg, hiding them under the pouf of her bustle and skirt.
When she was finished, out of mist and magic, she swirled duplicate matching canvases.
The fake paintings she took from the frames and rolled together as well, but she kept them in her hand.
“Time to go, my Quinnevere,” Blood said. “Make sure you keep your necklace on at all times. It will protect you against mirror magic from now on.” She smiled and ran a finger through Quinn’s hair. “For your sacrifice, this is a gift I will give to you.”
“Thank you.” Quinn hugged the mirror. “I will miss you.”
“And I you.”
Quinn pulled away, and with one final glance, she whispered goodbye before stepping back out of the mirror.
Her tattoo vanished from her arm and her back, and she was met with a seething monster.
Forty-Five
“That took too long,” Jevon said through his teeth as he pressed the knife into Giselle’s neck, causing a drop of blood to run from the wound. Painful but not deadly, but her face paled from his original wound.
Fire seethed in Quinn’s stomach. She wanted to murder him for even touching Giselle—her one loyal friend. But instead, she walked over to the monster and held out the fake paintings. “As you requested.”
He didn’t take them. Instead, he asked, “What took so long?”
Emrys cut in. “How did you do it without losing your soul?”
“Who says I haven’t?” she snapped. Instinctively, she knew none of this was his fault, but it was incredibly hard watching him do absolutely nothing or, worse, hurt Giselle. Quinn knew he was compelled to do it because Jevon had his painting from the second Blood Mirror, but she still couldn’t help as anger bubbled out at the entire situation.
“What took you so long?” Jevon asked again.
The vein in her neck pulsed, but she laced a false smile on her face. “I had to convince the mirror not to take my soul immediately. It took a while.” A half-truth.
The answer seemed to appease him. “Hand me them over, and I’ll let Giselle go.”
