Realms of Mirrors and Demons

by J. S. Malcom

  I’m about to turn away when Wendy sees me. Her face lights up and she waves me over. I almost pretend not to notice, but I just can’t do it. I head in their direction, thinking I’ll say hi and quickly beg off.

  “Hey, Cassie,” Wendy says. “You remember Alec, right?”

  She has no idea, of course, about the Shadow Order thing. At least, I’m assuming Alec wouldn’t have told her. Although, technically, it’s not like we’ve been sworn to secrecy. Come to think of it, I really need to ask about that.

  “Hey,” I say, making brief eye contact before returning my attention to Wendy.

  “Cool party, isn’t it?” Wendy says. “Do you like Walk the Moon? I really like them.”

  Until she said it, I hadn’t realized that Walk the Moon had started playing in the background. Actually, I like them too, so I guess I can chalk not noticing to the effect Alec has on me.

  “I love them,” I say. “I guess I should prob—”

  “I think you manifested this party,” Wendy says.

  Oh, boy. Here we go. Good old Wendy and her pronoia. “I think it just kind of happened,” I say.

  Wendy smiles and shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe you needed a party. That’s how it works. You wanted to be happy and the Universe threw you a party.”

  I can’t tell if she’s referring to what happened earlier, or just being Wendy. But she gestures outward with her cocktail glass and says, “To Positive Notion Potions!”

  Yep, Wendy’s definitely buzzed, but I clink her glass and then Alec does too. Wendy takes a sip just as someone bumps her from behind. She jumps as she spills her fizzling concoction onto her blouse.

  “Oh, geez,” she says. “That is cold!” She wraps an arm around herself to cover her soaked shirtfront, through which her bra now shows. Her face turns as pink as the drink she just spilled. As much as I’m not an Alec fan, Wendy is, so I can’t help but feel bad for her.

  Alec waves a hand and produces a towel from thin air. Not bad, I have to admit. He moves toward Wendy’s breasts with it, becomes aware of what he’s doing, and awkwardly thrusts the towel out to her. “Sorry, here,” he says, his face turning red now too.

  Wendy takes the towel and laughs. “Maybe I just manifested changing out of this shirt. Honestly, it’s not my favorite. I was just trying to look nice.”

  Oh, Wendy. She really is the sweetest thing. She didn’t even turn to see who bumped her.

  “I’ll just go change,” she says. “Be right back, you guys.”

  Wendy turns to go, hesitates, and tries to figure out what to do with her now empty glass. There’s nowhere to set it down, so I take it out of her hand. She giggles and sets off.

  I gesture with the glass. “I’ll just go—”

  “Got it,” Alec says, gesturing casually. The glass floats up out of my hand and across the room to gently touch down on the art deco bar. Wow. I want to hate the guy, but he just says, “I suppose I should have thought of that before.”

  “Nicely done,” I say. “I should probably get—”

  “I heard about what happened.” Alec tries and mostly fails to make eye contact. “Sorry. That sucks.”

  My face grows warm, and I look around the room. “It’s fine.”

  “My great-aunt can be a total bitch sometimes.”

  So, she’s his great-aunt, not that it really matters. “Yeah, well.”

  “But you’re not letting me off that easy,” Alec says. “Is that it?”

  His words take me totally by surprise. My face grows even warmer. “I never said—”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s not like I’m blind. I can see it in your eyes.”

  He’s dead right, but for some reason I try holding my ground. “I have no idea what you’re even—”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter,” Alec says. “I can deal with it. But I heard about the coven meeting. I’m sorry.”

  I know he’s trying to be nice, but he couldn’t have picked a worse time. And it doesn’t help that, now that I look closer, I see that he also resembles Sarah Wellingsford. He has the same tall brow, straight nose and aristocratic chin. Ten minutes ago, I was having fun. I’d nearly forgotten about being treated so cruelly, and now I’ve come full circle again. Which, irrationally, only makes me more angry at him.

  “Let’s talk about it some other time,” I say. “Okay?”

  His eyes meet mine for just a moment before they flick away. I figure it for just the way he is, but then he narrows his gaze and says, “What the hell is that thing?”

  He’s looking at a mirror across the room. I see only the reflections of those at the party, but my heart starts hammering. “What did you see?”

  Alec shakes his head. “Just a shadow, I guess. But for a moment, I could have sworn it followed —” He shakes his head again. “Never mind.”

  Without thinking about it, I grab hold of his arm and say, “We need to go. Right now!”

  CHAPTER 31

  We take the steps two at a time as we run upstairs, and then down the second floor hall. I don't even try knocking on Wendy's door, or check to see if it's locked. I pull up my combat magic and blow the door off its hinges. We charge into the living room to find it empty, and from there run into the bedroom. Amazingly, none of that's enough to faze Wendy, who stands facing a mirror. She’s reaching toward her own reflection and speaking softly.

  “They're so beautiful,” she says. “I didn't think I even could manifest something like this.”

  I have no idea what she’s seeing, but she’s definitely not seeing herself. She must be experiencing some sort of spell-induced hallucination. On the other hand, I see a portal opening between where Wendy now stands and that mirror on her wall. The gap flickers and pulses orange as she moves toward it.

  “Wendy, stop!”

  My words have no effect. She steps forward again, the opening starting to close around her.

  I hear Alec cry out, “What do we do?”

  But I'm already moving, instinctively knowing there’s nothing we can do together. Alec may be magically powerful, but I'm the veil witch. I plunge in before that portal swallows Wendy.

  What I encounter next can only be another illusion, one meant just for me. We’ve entered a portal house of mirrors, where I see both Wendy and myself reflected dozens of times. She keeps venturing further into the labyrinth, where light flickers fiery orange, and there's no way to tell which one is really her. I keep calling Wendy’s name, but it does nothing to break the spell.

  Panic rises inside me, and all I can think to do is lash out with magic. I start hurling fireballs at any mirror pane not holding Wendy’s image. All I can hope is that if there are fewer reflections, then maybe I can find her. The mirrors explode against my strikes, not as illusions but as real glass. Shards shoot through the air and I feel the sting of lacerations upon my face and arms. Each magical punch opens a hole, behind which a reddish glow pulsates. Instinctively, I know we're in a tunnel, one bridging between realms. I also know I have but seconds to find Wendy before she’s lost.

  Something flashes in my peripheral vision and I turn to see a different image this time. Now, it’s Bethany’s visage that spreads out in a kaleidoscopic pattern, a hundred times reflected through the hall. The illusion works as intended. In my distraction, I lose track of Wendy. I spin around lost, frantically trying to find her, and then start to run while once again calling her name. I tell myself to ignore Bethany’s image. Once again instinct tells me she’s not in this passage, that it’s a trick meant to overwhelm my senses.

  Suddenly, my eyes lock onto Wendy again just as she turns a corner. Still, I can’t tell if it’s her or just another reflection. I punch out more empty panes as, fists clenched, I let out a scream of rage. Finding her is impossible. The illusion is just too strong. Whoever created this must have unearthly powers.

  Then suddenly it occurs to me—the same thought that made me plunge into this hell. I’m a veil witch, which means I’m equipped with abilities made for this nightmare
. I shift my vision to veil witch mode. As the orange flickering fades, I soon see a small pulsing orb. It’s white tinged with blue. Only one light looks like that—the glow of a human life force. That nonphysical orb that can’t exist within a reflection. I run toward it, only shifting my vision again as I latch onto Wendy’s arm. I let out another furious scream and thrust out my hand, unleashing all of my magic. The resulting force hurls us backward through the air as the illusion explodes into fragments. We tumble out into Wendy’s apartment, where we slide across the floor.

  Alec stands waiting, his face a mask of panic. “What the hell happened to you two? Where did you go?”

  I ignore him and pull Wendy up into a sitting position. Her head hangs back, her mouth gaping as her eyes roll up into their sockets.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Alec cries. “What happened?”

  Again, I ignore him as I shake Wendy, trying to revive her. “Come on, girl. You can do it,” I say. “Come on, come on, come on!”

  Another moment passes, my heart hammering in my chest. Finally, Wendy lurches forward. With a great heave, she gasps for air. She grabs onto me, shaking her head as she tries to focus.

  “What happened?” she says. “I was just…” Wendy looks around again. “How did you guys get here?” I can tell she’s both confused and embarrassed, but she still smiles at seeing Alec behind me.

  Despite everything we just went through, I can’t help but smile too. Wendy may not remember the danger she was in, and she may never remember me saving her. That’s okay. I wouldn’t wish that on her anyway. What matters is that she’s back and we’ve broken the spell.

  I turn to Alec and say, “I think she needs you.”

  Alec drops to his knees beside her. He brushes the hair back from her face. “Hey, you,” he says. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  Wendy lets go of me to sag against him, sighing as Alec wraps her in his arms.

  I climb to my feet, checking myself for cuts and expecting to see blood. But those wounds are gone now, another part of the spell that’s been broken. All the same, the stinging pain remains as a solid reminder of the magic I just faced. The kind that can bend minds and alter reality. And I can’t help but wonder if it might just have been the magic of a mage.

  CHAPTER 32

  Strangely, while I go to bed that night shaken, I also feel relieved. After all, I won two rounds that day—first by clearing the ghost from Martha Sander’s house, and then by saving Wendy from that trap. Obviously, saving Wendy means more, but the combined two victories leaves me feeling hopeful. I also must be exhausted, since I fall asleep fast and sleep hard. It almost defies belief, but I don’t have nightmares. In fact, I don’t remember a thing until I wake up sensing light against my eyelids. I open my eyes to see that light floating through my room. It pulsates rapidly, a surprisingly bright glare flickering across the walls. What the hell is that thing?

  Suddenly, my phone buzzes against my nightstand. I snatch it up to see that Beatrice is calling. I answer, and she says, “I guess you saw my beacon.”

  Beacon? The flashing light winks out. Okay, so that’s what that was. How it got in here will have to wait, not to mention how Beatrice knew it woke me.

  I sit up in bed, pulling my hair back from my face. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll need your key,” Beatrice says.

  My Idris Elba key? This must be some sort of practice drill, and I’m in no mood to drive halfway across town right now. Never mind go to California. I sigh and say, “Seriously, can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

  “Technically, it is tomorrow. I also recalibrated your key. Just get it and open your door.”

  To go along or tell her to screw off? That is the question. But the urgency I heard in her voice makes me decide to do as I’ve been told. I get out of bed and climb into my jeans. Then I notice that Beatrice is right—it must be morning, since a faint light now seeps past my curtains. I’m already wearing a t-shirt, and I think about leaving it at that. Then again, showing up braless and smelly might not be the best plan. I put on a bra, as well as a fresh shirt. Then I grab my key, go into the living room and open my front door.

  I lurch back at seeing Beatrice waiting in the hall. Not my hall. The front hall of the Shadow Order headquarters. She turns, starts walking and says, “I beckoned you as soon as I found out.”

  I freeze for a moment, disoriented and confused. Then I follow her, trotting to catch up. “Found out what?”

  Beatrice looks over at me, her grim expression confirming that this isn’t a drill. “Vampires were killed last night. Several in one location.”

  I shake my head, now even more confused. “So, that’s bad news?”

  We turn a corner and start walking down another hall. “As you already know, not all vampire are our enemies. But in this case, yes. It’s particularly bad news.”

  I struggle to both wake up and keep up. “Why?”

  “Because only one kind of witch could eradicate a group of vampires in one fell swoop.”

  So that’s what this is about. “But I didn’t—”

  “Exactly, plenty of people know where you were last night. Both at the coven meeting and then home later. I already checked.”

  My pulse escalates as her meaning sinks in. “But my sister wouldn’t—”

  “But she could have,” Beatrice says. “That’s all that matters right now.”

  We stop when we come to a door, which Beatrice swings open. It’s the same conference room I saw before, where members of the Shadow Order met with supernatural beings. The room is empty but somehow, even now, some of that energy lingers. It doesn’t seem quite possible, but I can’t ignore what I feel. My skin tingles as an edginess creeps through my body.

  “Please,” Beatrice says, gesturing for me to enter the room with her.

  It’s dark in there, the room lit by only one red bulb on the back wall. It glows dimly from within a thick glass casing. Beneath it, there’s another door. In the corner of the ceiling, I notice a surveillance camera that must be used to monitor meetings. Beatrice takes a seat at the table, apparently unconcerned with how dark it is in there. Again, she gestures for me to do the same.

  I take a seat and brace myself, since clearly we’ve come here to talk. “Tell me,” I say.

  Beatrice brings her gaze to mine. “I’m sorry,” she says. “Your sister has been charged and taken in. Once her—”

  “Taken in by who?” I say, anger flaring inside me. “What does that even mean?”

  Beatrice holds up her hand, signaling for patience. She takes a breath and starts again. “The city coven has charged her for the crime. Once—”

  “What crime?” It takes everything I have not to jump out of my seat. “We're veil witches. We’re supposed to kill vampires.”

  It may not be the right thing to say in the moment, but it's true. As veil witches, striking down supernatural intruders is our primary function. Not that I think for one moment that Autumn went out vampire hunting last night. She never goes vampire hunting. I go vampire hunting. Except even I’ve stopped doing that lately.

  “As I'm sure you know, we've had a truce with the vampires for some time now. There have been some rocky moments but, all in all, the peace has held.”

  I try to remain calm, which isn't easy. Especially given that, if anything, the supernatural energy seems to be getting stronger. That has to be my imagination. “What about evidence? What do they even have?”

  As soon as I say it, I know the answer, which Beatrice soon confirms. “In the human world, physical evidence would be needed. In our world, magic is evidence.”

  Right, of course. Again, the kind of magic that can only be used by veil witches. I grit my teeth and say, “Where's my sister?”

  “My understanding is that she'll be released soon,” Beatrice says. “Once her powers have been bound. After that, she'll have to stand trial.”

  My mind reels as I try to process what I’ve been told. I perch forward in
my seat. “Who's binding her powers? Can that even be done? What do you mean by trial?”

  “Yes, a binding can be done. Typically, performing one requires at least two witches. Possibly a group, depending on the strength of the witch.”

  I narrow my eyes. “I'm guessing they'll need a group for my sister.”

  Beatrice nods. “Quite possibly.”

  Last night comes back to me in a vivid rush. That room full of witches, their fear and anxiety, and their readiness to make accusations. With that memory comes a sense of certainty. “And I'm assuming this group is led by Sarah Wellingsford.”

  Again, Beatrice nods. “That's correct. She's one of the coven’s most prominent witches. When they learned of what happened, the vampire clan dispatched a representative demanding justice. Evidently, that's when Sarah decided to bring charges against your sister.”

  Yeah, I bet she did. Given the level of paranoia last night, I can guess where this is going. Things were already destabilizing fast, and now there’s this threat to the supernatural balance. An event that could lead to a supernatural war, not to mention one providing the very excuse Sarah must have been hoping for. This way, she can start with one of us and then move onto the next.

  I bring my eyes back to Beatrice's. “You said Autumn will have to stand trial. What happens if she's found guilty?”

  Beatrice hesitates, and it seems like she's having difficulty maintaining eye contact. “In that case, she'd be given to the vampires. They’d be the ones to exact justice.”

  Tears prick at my eyes, blurring my vision. “What do you mean, kill her?”

  With her powers bound, Autumn would be defenseless. The vampires could literally tear her apart.

  “They could,” Beatrice says. “Or they could choose to turn her.”