Page 80 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
She slipped into the doorway and motioned for them to follow.
In a blink of silence, Emrys had the door closed behind them. “So where to, little phantom?”
“Don’t call me that.” Giselle glowered. “The top floor.”
The house opened to a grand entrance with a spiraling staircase at the back. The place was filled with ornate mahogany and rosewood carvings, as well as luxurious crimson and black fabrics. All the wooden panels throughout the house were filled with curling vine patterns and snakes.
Giselle shivered and touched her temples for a moment. Her eyes looked haunted, and she seemed to be struggling.
Was this her childhood home?
But before Quinn could ask, Giselle slowly made her way to the stairs and climbed. Quinn followed until they reached the top landing and a solid silver door. Giselle knew the place. She found the vault too quickly, and she did not know exactly what she was looking for.
Giselle slid the key from inside her corset and into the lock.
The door opened to a night terror.
A pulsating mirror.
It was the only thing in the entire room. It must be the mirror that gave the Fantômes their tattoos.
The mirror’s surface rippled, and at its center, appeared a man with a sinister face crying liquid darkness.
“Well, that’s not ideal,” Emrys said, stepping up behind them.
“What mirror is it?” Quinn asked.
“The Mirror of Unbound Terror.” He smoothed out his lapels. “It’s the mirror that the Fantômes stole and used for all of their bargains, but I believe it also holds their secrets, and in order to reach them, you must walk through your deepest fears.”
“If it’s secrets you seek, come take a peek.” The mirror’s voice was death personified, and it rattled through Quinn’s bones.
The hairs at the nape of her neck rose. “So shall we?”
The clock on Quinn’s life was slowly ticking toward its conclusion. If she didn’t find the murderer or the mirror soon, she’d become the next victim. There was no time to waste on fear.
Besides, this mirror couldn’t be that much more terrifying than Nightshade . . . right?
But Giselle beat her to it. Without any hesitation, the brunette stepped through the liquid shadows and into the portal.
As Quinn moved to join her friend, Emrys appeared like a lightning strike in front of her, blocking her path.
“We need to talk,” he said, clutching her hand.
She forced a fake smile. “I can’t let her be alone in there.” Quinn tried to step past him.
“Even if you went in with her, your paths would be split,” he said softly. “You can’t help her now.”
Quinn cracked her neck, but she believed him. After all, he’d once bragged about going into all of the mirrors. “What is it you want to talk about then?” She huffed.
“I shouldn’t have—”
“We really don’t have to discuss that.” Quinn interrupted him. She couldn’t bear being so embarrassed again. He’d used her. He made it clear yesterday exactly why they kissed, and she absolutely didn’t need to hear it again. “We really don’t need to talk about it. As you said, you’re a rake and the . . .” She stuttered, not wanting to say it. Swallowing, she gathered her strength. “The kiss meant nothing.”
The room suddenly dropped its temperature, turning theplace into an ice cave. Or maybe it was Quinn’s heart freezing over and guarding itself. Shecouldn’tcare for this spoiled, selfish man. And she absolutely couldn’t want to kiss him again.
“I shouldn’t have—”
“It was just a kiss. I thank you for teaching me.” Her breath hitched, and she forced her smile to grow bright and filled with a thousand lies. “You’re right. It will probably help my dancing.”
