Page 98 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Her body was too weak to move, so she let her head fall to the street.
This was how she would die.
Just like her second fear in the Mirror of Terror.
A thud hit her chest. One of the spirit cats pounced on her, and the other ran down the street. Quinn’s vision blurred, her body hardening to ice. She was so cold.
Death was at her doorstep, ready to accept her into his realm.
“Hadleigh, get to a rotary and call him.” A distant voice rang through the air. The face of a brunette man hovered above her head, and someone’s hands were trying to staunch the blood. “Hold on, your prince is coming, and he will fix this.”
Quinn’s eyes fluttered, and her vision evaporated once again. She was just so tired, and she needed to sleep . . .
Death’s cold fingers snaked up her body and invited her home. Darkness welcomed her like an old friend returning from a long, gruesome war.
“Quinn?”Hisvoice seemed so, so far away. “Oh, fucking mirrors, Quinnevere,you’re dying.”
“That seems pretty obvious, prince charming.” Her words were soft and barely enunciated.
Emrys’s chestnut eyes appeared above her head, and they looked so . . . so concerned, like two pools of brown-coated fear. Her chest warmed, and for maybe the first time in her life, she was happy to see the Playboy Prince.
“Has anyone ever told you that seeing your face makes them want to die?” Her words slurred together.
Emrys chuckled, but the fear never left his eyes. “I should have guessed dying wouldn’t change your feelings or your terrible sense of humor.”
A bit too drunk from the blood loss, Quinn breathed, “Did you know you're so, so pretty? You’re like a painting . . . a pretty, pretty . . . painting.”
Her head fell sideways, and her eyelids fluttered shut.
“Quinn.” He slapped her cheek. “Stay with me, you brilliant nightmare.”
Quinn’s eyes opened, and the disorientation flooded back in. She was staring at Emrys Avalon. The Playboy Prince, and richest man in New Swansea. A vampire. Her nemesis. Or maybe not a nemesis anymore . . .
“Humph. No. I have no interest in staying with you,” she slurred and tried to roll away from him.
“Oh, god, your touch is revolting.” Emrys pinched his eyes shut as he put pressure on her wounds.
“Very charmi—” Quinn’s head tilted. It was too heavy to hold up. She would have been insulted by his words, if she weren’t dy—blackness erupted through her mind.
With another jolt to her face, Quinn regained consciousness. “You need to stay awake, Quinn.” Emrys fumbled, trying to find a way to save her, but he had no idea what he was doing, or at least that was what it seemed like from his franti—
“Quinn, please, stay with me.” He held her limp head up by the neck.
“I don’t think I have—” Quinn breathed, her body growing cold.
“Do you want to live?” Emrys asked. He was desperation—a man with no options.
“No.” She tried to say it sarcastically, but with her throat so sore from strain and utterly dry, it came out as a sad and pathetic statement. Not at all how she intended it. “Yes, of course, I want to live.”
Words were torture.
“Are you willing to accept the consequences?” He squeezed her hand, his gaze cutting into her.
“What are—” she trailed off, gray flowing back into her vision. She blinked to correct it.
“An eternity of dealing with me.” He hesitated, despair spilling over a nonchalant mask he was trying to hold. “And possibly eternal damnation.”
“Those are fun consequ—”
