Page 20 of The Midwinter Mirror
Her face goes still. She’s thinking of something else, and it’s not pleasant. Her hand comes up to rub at the spot between her eyes. “Don’t think that this makes me believe in magic,” she snaps, then shakes her head. “God, we’re back to that again. I don’t want to talk about magic and stupid mirrors.” Her eyes narrow. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That I came through some sort of magic mirror.”
That’s exactly what I think, but I suspect she doesn’t want to hear that. It occurs to me again that her disbelief in magic is almost…irrational. But it’s also starting to piss me off. She needs to get over it.
Because as soon as I’ve had that talk with Josh, we’re heading back to Silvergate.
I just shrug, and that seems to piss her off even more.
She jumps up and paces back and forth in front of me. I can almost see the steam coming out of her ears. She turns to face me, hands on her hips, full of attitude, and I have the most inconvenient urge to kiss her. But then she sniffs. “What next? Are you going to try and make me believe that monsters are real?”
I grin at that one. And it occurs to me that if I want to prove that magic—and monsters—are real, then I have the perfect way to do that. Plus, it’s probably the quickest way. Not to mention, the hardest to ignore. And maybe it’s time for Holly to learn just how much I’ve changed. Because I’ve realized something—five years ago, things got rough, and I walked away from her.
I’m not walking away from her again.
I give her a slow smile.
“What?” she snaps.
“You’d better believe the monsters are real, princess.”
“Don’t call me princess. And what do you…” She trails off and stares at me, her eyes widening. “What the…”
She can deny magic all she likes, but even she must feel the shudder in the air around us. I step back—I need space for this.
“Zayne?”
But I can’t answer because the change is sweeping over me. Raze is coming out to play. The air snaps, pressure rolling off my skin. Heat blooms along my spine as bones lengthen; leather groans; the world tilts on a hinge. Scales chase over my arms like frost, then catch—emerald, then blue. When the wings rip free, the membranes grab the cold and sing. Raze stretches, tasting the sky, and the ground seems very far away.
Holly stares up at me. I think she’s frozen in place—probably overwhelmed by my magnificence. Then she blinks once, whirls around, and races toward the house.
I launch myself into the sky.
I punch straight up through the thin winter light and hover overhead until she disappears into the outbuildings surrounding the manor house. Then I bank hard over the roofs and let the sound tear out of me—a bell of fire and thunder that rattles the gutters.
Yeah. I quite like my monster.
And I’m sure Holly will too…once she gets to know us.
Chapter 8
This Is Better Than Thinking
Holly
Irun.
I don’t think.
And I certainly don’t look up.
The snow is deep, and I’m out of breath by the time I reach the stables. I fling open the door and almost dive inside. The door slams shut behind me. The horses stamp and whicker, but I boltfor the nearest empty stall and crouch down, resting my head on my knees as I gulp in air.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image is still burned there, clawing at the edges of my brain.
Zayne wasn’t Zayne anymore. That thing…whatever it was…had been huge. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe my brain just stitched together scraps of nightmares.
His eyes—black, with yellow slits—weren’t human. Predatory. Like a snake about to strike. His body sleek and endless, scales shimmering green and blue as if they couldn’t decide what color to be. There was a jagged crest down his head and neck, like a crown carved from knives.
And those fangs—curved and white, too long, too sharp, catching the light as he opened his jaws.
