Page 95 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
What was I thinking, running into danger like a silent film hero? I’m no hero.
Attacking vampires was foolish, but Quinn also couldn’t leave the woman here to die. There were no good options . . . but perhaps it was better to run for help. Get Emrys. Anyone stronger than her. Turning on her heel, Quinn ran to warn someone—to do something besides watch the woman die. Unfortunately, both vampires’ had exceptional hearing, and their ears perked up. In a blink, the male was in front of her, blood dripping from his teeth. It wasn’t lost on Quinn that this was at least the third time her lack of stealthiness had gotten her in trouble.
But then again, every time she’d eavesdropped before, she was also dealing with vampires. It was an unfair advantage.
Curiosity killed the cat . . . and Quinnevere Ashelle?
“Hello, pretty little thing, you smell divine,” he said with a grotesque smile. “I wonder if you taste divine.”
Three things happened all at once. The vampire lunged, Quinn raised the severed glass bottle, and the cloaked vampire screamed, “No.”
Then, the world stilled.
The vampire yelped with pain as his fingers touched Quinn’s skin. At the exact moment, she sliced upward at his face and took a nasty chunk out. With a guttural hiss, he lunged again, and his two porcelain fangs tried to strike Quinn’s neck, but she turned into a pirouette-on attitude and kicked him in the side. His teeth scraped her shoulder. Coming out of the turn, she kicked the man in the face.
He stumbled back but jumped up far quicker than humanly possible—far faster than she expected. Black claws grew out of his fingernails, swiping and slicing at her.
She somersaulted and rolled back onto her feet, the glass shard at the ready. The creature was far too fast and strong. He pinnedher to the ground, punctured her side, and sliced down her chest with his claws.
Crimson bubbled out of her corset and spilled onto the cobblestones. A burning pain radiated through her bones.
But Quinn didn’t give up.
Clutching the glass, she stabbed him in the eye. He howled, and his claws pierced into the woman’s neck, slightly breaking the skin as his fangs plunged at her carotid. Seconds after he tore out her throat, the second vampire grabbed him and swiftly broke his neck. The attacker crumbled to the alley floor.
Darkness and mystery cloaked the second vampire’s face. Shadows and murder radiated from them as if they were the darkness itself. A beautiful, deadly darkness.
Even up close, she couldn’t distinguish their gender, possibly because the vampire was obscuring her senses with their glamour. It studied her silently, a claw outstretched.
Quinn’s heartbeat soared as the vampire slowly examined, taking in the human they’d saved.
But why?
They hovered above with preternatural stillness and grace. Without even seeing its face, Quinn knew that this creature was stunning. If not in their actual appearance, then in their enchanting essence. An essence as powerful as a shooting star.
At once, Quinn was fiercely drawn to and utterly repulsed by it—too much power in such a creature.
Quinn’s breaths came out in ragged bubbles, blood filling her mouth. Her heart played a presto tempo in her chest—working far too hard. Fear licked her spine. Was this how it all ended? Would Quinn be the next body?
Forgotten.
No.
Placing the hilt of her palm on the ground, she pulled herself away from the vampire. Her hazel gaze caught on the woman who lay still and dying. Quinn had a choice: try to run or try to save her. She inhaled sharply, the process excruciating.
Pebbles and dirt spiked at her hands as she crawled toward the woman. Blood gushed from the wound in the woman’s throat, and Quinn punched her fingers into the jagged skin, trying to feel for the rupture in the carotid artery, trying to halt the bleeding.
Success was an elusive dream. This woman was going to die, and there was nothing Quinn could do about it.
Failure coursed through her veins, and blood pooled between Quinn’s fingers as the light in the woman’s eyes faded. Only a couple years older than Quinn, the woman’s life evaporated. Just gone. Just slipped into nothing.
Tears stung at the edges of her eyes. She’d performed many autopsies and studied many dead bodies, but she hadn’t watched somebody die. Never seen the moment their spirit left forever.
Not even when her parents died, no, she’d hid under a table and squeezed her eyes shut—only seeing the dead bodies afterward.
This was the first time she saw death’s embrace.
Shock bruised Quinn’s soul, and her trembling fingers remained fixed on the dead woman’s neck.
