Page 60 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Blood’s eyes grew stormy—like an overcast, never-ending rainy day. “I am sorry, Midnight.”
The teen waved away the apology. “If you must insist on your answers, then yes, vampires exist.”
Quinn’s knees buckled, and her muscles grew weak and faint. She let her knees fall to the cloudy floor. Fear coiled around her throat like a snake suffocating its prey.
“Are you all right?” Blood stood up and reached for Quinn.
“Yes. I am fine.” Quinn panted as if she ran a race and lost. Before Quinn could think it through, she asked, “What are the Blood Mirrors?” Quinn knew they somehow had to be connected. Her parents had the tattoos and were murdered protecting a mirror. And Jane was murdered because of the mirrors, too.
“That’s three questions now.” Midnight tallied them on her fingers.
“The three Blood Mirrors house the vampires’ only mortal weakness,” Blood said. “And they are protected by the Council.”
Quinn desperately wanted to ask about the weakness, but she’d already bargained away three chunks of her hair, and she still didn’t know if it would ever grow back—and she didn’t even know what Midnight meant by a “small lock.” And it wasn’t that Quinn was vain, but she did like her hair. It was one of her best features.
If she asked one more question, she’d probably be fine, but she was unwilling to let go of that much more.
But what question would lead her to the most answers outside of the mirror?
Quinn finally settled on, “How can I get more answers about the Blood Council and vampires without asking a mirror?”
“A council meeting will be held at the castle tomorrow night. You should be able to get more answers then,” Blood said.
“I am assuming that was your last question?” Midnight asked, playing with a cloud kitten she’d created.
“Yes,” Quinn breathed.
“Wonderful.” Midnight’s complexion lit up. “I’ll have my prize now.”
She held out her hand. With a slight pinch at the back of Quinn’s head, the bottom half-inch of her hair fell out and appeared in Midnight’s hand.
The teen kissed the hair and rubbed it against her face before saying, “Goodbye, sweet Quinn. I did enjoy your company. Do come back for a visit!”
Quinn stiffened. That was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
Red metal climbed up Blood’s body. “It was an honor to get to see you, Quinnevere.” A tear dropped from her eye as the crimson metal captured her. Once fully covered, the woman melted into dancing liquid and flowed back into the necklace’s cage.
Then Quinn fell through darkness.
She hit the asphalt road with a thud. The mirror had tossed her out back onto the street. “Ouch.”
“How did it go?”
“At least she still looks the same.”
“She doesn’t look too tortured.”
Quinn’s mind whirled, and she didn’t know which of her friends belonged to which voice. She laid her head back against the ground and sucked in a breath. So much happened, and she was unable to process it all. The tattoo and Blood Mirrors and vampires.
It was all too much. She needed to forget about it. But she couldn’t, so after a long pause to collect her thoughts, she sat up and told her friends everything.
Twenty-Two
Ballet auditions were still postponed for another two days as an act of remembrance, but Quinn still needed practice. It was hard to dance now with Jane dead. It felt wrong. So much so that Quinn considered stopping altogether. But if Jane were alive, she’d force her friend to complete the week of auditions.
Jane wouldn’t let her quit.
So, Quinn threw her hair into a bun, in the process scratching the bald area at the nape of her neck. She groaned. So that was real. She wanted to study her reflection and see the extent of the damage, but she didn’t want to do it in front of her friends.
