Page 41 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Hadleigh did as commanded, grabbing Giselle and roughly throwing her at her friend. Quinn caught her and stumbled back, her face coming dangerously close to a crystal. Clasping hands, the girls stared at the Fantômes in a silence so deep the cave threatened to swallow it.
“Why are you riffling through our things?” the leader asked.
Quinn’s tongue seized up, and no words formed. She had no idea what to say. So she clenched her hands into fists and tried to feel her feet upon the wood. A grounding exercise. She needed to get her breathing and heart rate under control. It was the only way to fight.
Instead of answering, Quinn finally settled on, “You’re blood traffickers?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, playing with his pistol.
“You’re vampires.” As she said the words, she knew they didn’t make sense. First, vampires were extinct—although the building evidence might suggest otherwise. And second, all of them had both a gang tattoo and a Mirror-Blessed tattoo. They couldn’t be vampires . . . unless vampires could bargain with the mirrors. Right?
That was a horrifying thought.
“No.” He smiled; a grin filled with toxins. “We are the supply. It’s a very profitable business model.”
“Supply for vampires?” Quinn’s fingers shook as she grasped onto Giselle.
The man shrugged. “All things are possible in the land of mirrors.”
It was not an answer, and Quinn knew she wasn’t going to get one, so instead, she asked, “And the casino is a front?”
“The casino is, as it turns out, a casino.” His eyes had a wicked twinkle. “Although perhaps we might also do some Mirror Market business from time to time.” He winked. “Do let me know if you are in the market for anything forbidden.” That last bit was definitely directed at Giselle, and Quinn was fairly certain it was some kind of innuendo, but that was Giselle’s specialty, not hers. “We have many things in the market that might be to your tastes.”
The Mirror Market was a black market for highly dangerous mirror magic goods that were banned by Castle Hill and the police.
Turning to Giselle, Quinn asked, “Did you know about the role in the Mirror Market?”
“No—” Giselle pinched her friend in a way that said,shut your mouth now, please.
“Why would she know about it?” Hadleigh asked.
Giselle’s nostrils flared, and she ran a finger along her necklace, thinking, “I am a private investigator. My job is to uncover secrets.”
The leader’s lips turned up. “You seem tooobviousto have that type of job. There isn’t a room you would be in where I wouldn’t notice you.” His eyes flashed for a moment over her curves.
“And you seem young to run a gang. I much preferred your old leader,” Giselle spat back.
His smile grew larger. “I grow tired of you. Maybe we should throw you in the pool.” The man faked a yawn. “Or maybe I’ll just shoot you and leave you for carrion birds.”
“Carrion birds in your casino? It doesn’t even make sense.”
“Do you have a death wish, girl?”
“Are you going to murder me? Really?” Giselle squared her shoulders and glared directly into the leader’s eyes. “You can’t, can you? We aren’t gang members. The police would instantly knowif you did, and I am sure they are dying for a reason to lock you away on the Rock with your old leader.”
He let out a deep laugh and strolled up to Giselle, putting his face in hers. “If I wanted to kill you, girl, I’d do it and brand you with our symbol after you were dead.” Fire crackled between them, but both remained resolute. Either Giselle was not afraid of him or wouldn’t allow her fear to show on her face. He grasped her by the chin. “Or maybe I would do it before you died so that I could watch you scream. Not all our members get their markings from a mirror. Some take the iron.”
“I am sure you would enjoy me screaming,” Giselle said with a soft, dangerous lilt. “Maybe we could schedule another time when I could reciprocate the favor.”
He let out a low chuckle, and a glimmer of warm delight danced in his eyes. “I am sure I would enjoy that more than I would like to admit.” He sighed. “But alas, I have to kill you. You know our secrets.”
Quinn’s heart pounded in fast violin strokes, but she pulled upon Giselle’s bravery and said, “No one would believe we joined a gang, and even if they did, the branding wouldn’t be healed, and no decent medical examiner would miss that. They would suspect you planted it.”
“Good point.” He turned his coal eyes on Quinn. “Maybe I’ll just hold you hostage long enough for your marking to heal. Meanwhile, I’ll torture you and your pretty friend.”
“I am sure I would enjoy the torture too much, and it would devalue the whole point of doing it.” Giselle held her chin high, still intensely studying him.
The man’s gaze dipped to her chest, and his smirk turned feral. “You do make rather a good point. Perhaps you would be more valuable to me alive.”
