Page 135 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
She rubbed her legs together, and they were still fastened there. Thank the stars.
The vampires were preparing for the ball, and very soon, Quinn would be forced to undress and get into a gown.
Jevon’s plan clearly involved the ball, and he wanted them all to see whatever was going to happen. He wanted an audience. But it was still unclear what he wanted. He had the paintings. Now what?
“What is this?” Teagan asked.
Giselle snatched whatever it was back out of the vampire’s hands. “Oh, that’s my lucky gemstone, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch it.”
Giselle didn’t have a lucky anything.
But Quinn didn’t get an opportunity to ponder that riddle because Seren noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye and snapped her gaze over.
Quinn’s heart lurched as the semi-unstable vampire’s attention locked fully on her. A tension sucked the air out of the room between them, and Seren’s eyes grew to a shade darker than black, yet she didn’t say a word.
Nothing.
It wasn’t logical; it was all emotion, and Quinn didn’t know what to do in a situation that defied reason.
She opened her mouth to say something, to break the tension channeling through her body, but as she did, Seren dropped her eyes back to her book and continued to read, her feet dangling over the chair's side.
Shit.What did that even mean? Was it a psychological game?
Quinn needed a moment to think, to plan, and not be seen, but her hair shifted to a scheming forest green.Fucking Periwinkle.This was a horrible mirror cost because everyone would know the precise moment when she thought it changed to something else. She’d become as easy to read as one of Giselle’s many fiction books.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Pull yourself together. Quinn’s nails bit her palms, and she sucked in a deep breath, steadying her emotions and turning her hair back to red. Her hair color was locked to her emotions, not her mind, so she needed to control the former so that no one would discover the latter.
Quinn’s plan needed to be A) figure out what Jevon was doing and B) thwart it.You know, easy shit.
It all revolved around the ball, and Quinn would figure it all out, but she let the problem stew in the back of her mind as she decided to help Giselle.
Reaching into her pocket, Quinn pulled out her medical kit—she never went anywhere without it. Balancing the scalpel, she sawed slowly along the strings of her binds, until they all fell loose. The whole time she worked, Seren refused to look over, yet she paid full attention.
From the way her ears perked up at attention, it was clear she knew exactly what Quinn was doing but didn’t stop her, and that didn’t bode well. Because the wickedest vampire in the room didn’t even feel like Quinn was a concern.
And maybe she wasn’t, but she refused to give up.
Once the ropes were removed, Quinn walked to Giselle without being stopped. In the vampires' arrogance, they thought two humans weren’t a threat. An assumption she’d make them pay for. But that would come later. Giselle had her glitter bombs, and Quinn had her brain and the paintings.
They’d figure something out.
“Would you like me to stitch that?” Quinn pointed at Giselle’s face wound, which was covered with cotton.
“Yes.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“I know.” Giselle twitched but placed a resilient mask on. “I like pain.”
Shaking her head, Quinn made her friend sit. In a matter of minutes, she poured saline on the wound, cleaned it, and stitched it. The whole time, Giselle gritted her teeth but refused to whimper.
“It’ll leave a scar.” Quinn frowned.
“All the better.” Giselle winked. “Now, maybe people will stare at my face instead of my—”
“Oh, shut it.” Quinn laughed. “They’re still definitely going to look at your chest.”
“And ass,” Giselle added.
