Page 67 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
“The difference being that if a human gets drunk and mouthy and tells their secrets to the world, they don’t get themselves and their entire kind executed for it,” Teagan said. “Not to mention, it’s not just the vampires who can’t tell a soul. Every single person in this room must remain silent. If any of you were vindictive enough, you could print the secret in the papers, and within seconds of the truth escaping, we would all be dead.”
“Don’t give them any ideas,” the unknown man muttered.
“We are bound by the accords too. If one of us let slip thesecret, it would be our heads, too,” a woman from the center of the room, presumably a human, said.
The argument went on for what felt like hours with no resolution. Vampires stood for and against the laws, but not a single person had any clue to any major suspects for the serial murders.
But Quinn’s suspect list was growing. It now included:
Francois and Hadleigh, the unknown young man, Countess Teagan Atwater, and Lady Annabelle Ravenscroft.
All of them seemed to have some motive for either destroying the accords or framing vampires.
Eventually, the conversation turned to other topics.
“Lady DeWinter, how does your operation fair?” the queen asked, clutching the arm of her throne.
DeWinter. There was only one person Quinn knew who went by the name DeWinter.
Constance.
A cloaked figure ambled to the center and slowly removed her hood, allowing her midnight locks to spill down her shoulders and her mahogany eyes to sparkle in the sconce light. “As always, the Viridian’s true business thrives as well as its ostentatious one.”
Constance’s voice echoed through the chambers of Quinn’s heart, slicing tiny lacerations with each wave of sound. If she weren’t already on her knees, Quinn would have crumbled to the ground. The force of this betrayal was visceral and disorienting.
Constance. One of her closest friends had lied to her and kept one of the most important secrets imaginable. She was a council member, and this whole time, she’d known about the tattoos and the connections to the murders. She’d known everything and withheld it.
“Good, and all of your shipments are running smoothly?” the queen asked.
“In the last four hundred years that I’ve run the Viridian, have we ever let this council down?” Kordelia, the owner of the Viridian, prowled to the center, her voice liquid fire.
“No.”
“Then that is your answer.” Kordelia scowled before clutching Constance’s arm and leaving the center.
The meeting continued as Quinn’s mind stormed, betrayal and confusion dancing a pas de deux.
Eventually, the meeting adjourned, and the council members trickled out of the room, except Uncle Matias, who remained glaring at Emrys, who still lounged on his throne.
When everyone was nearly gone, Uncle Matias rounded on the prince—slow and stalking like a bird of prey. “That stunt you pulled today in my lab will never happen again.”
“I was having a bit of fun.” Emrys smiled like a tiger.
“You and your fun. That’s all you ever think about.”
Emrys raised a brow, which clearly indicated that it was not all he hadthought about.
“Stay away from my niece.” Uncle Matias’s anger, as usual, was dull and guttural—even more painful for its lack of sharpness.
“She is a council member, and now that Jane is dead, Quinn is the last of her line, and she deserves to know everything.”
Uncle Matias raised one terrifying brow and said in a voice filled with danger, “She deserves to know only what I want her to know.”
“Yes, you have made that clear many, many times.” The words swished off Emrys’s tongue in a leisurely, bored manner as he picked a piece of lint from his vest.
“Stay away from my niece,” Uncle Matias said again, this time marking his every word with poison. “I do not want you anywhere near her.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Emrys said mockingly, giving an over-the-top bow. As he returned to his full height, his eyes flicked up to meet Quinn’s, and she ducked once more behind the railing.
