by Alex Rivers
“Put the bloody sword down,” said Gabriel. “It’s six forty-three. We’ve got one minute before Scarlett dies.”
Roan ignored him, refusing to lower his sword. His eyes burned holes into me.
I bit my lip. The boar grunted in panic, his feet kicking.
“Six forty-four,” said Gabriel.
I moved the knife quickly, plunging it into the boar’s rear leg. He squealed, bucking violently, blood pouring from the wound onto the stone floor. Roan moved swiftly toward me, but I’d already dropped the knife.
“That’s it.” I rose. “Six forty-four. I bled the boar. That was the only thing the abductor demanded. That was all I intended to do.”
Roan stared at me, his eyes icy with a cold rage. “You just stabbed the king of the Elder Fae.” His gaze slid over the boar’s body. “More than once.”
“What would you have done differently?” I whispered. “If it was Elrine?”
Instead of answering, he moved past me, kneeling by the boar’s side. He stroked he boar’s fur, whispering in the strangely lilting fae language.
Then he noticed the metal chain around its throat. He touched it and hissed, pulling his fingers back. “Iron. That’s why he didn’t change.”
“I’ll take it off,” I said hurriedly.
“How kind of you,” Elrine sneered. “Now you’re helping, after stabbing him with iron.”
I fumbled at the clasp until I managed to unclasp it. The iron chain slipped to the stone floor, and a rush of magic burst from its body.
I stepped back, gaping as the boar began to transform before my eyes with a sound like the stretching of tendons and the snapping of bones. The boar’s body elongated, its ivory fur retracting into its skin, tusks shortening. His hind legs lengthened, and his body began to straighten. Popping sounds echoed off the stone walls, sounding as if they came from within its body, where the bones twisted and reshaped to accommodate the new body. It sounded… painful.
Finally, a man was standing before us, staring down at me. Two tusks emerged from his mouth—the only remnants of his boar form. Straight blond hair hung to his chin, and apart from the tusks, his face was almost handsome. A crown of yew sprigs sat atop his head. His back was slightly hunched, under his black and gold doublet. On his collar, he wore a golden brooch—three suns. An array of rings gleamed from his fingers. He twisted his pinkie ring, staring at me, his dark gaze powerful and penetrating. A tendril of fear coiled though my gut, and I cast a nervous glance at Gabriel, whose jaw hung open.
Roan bowed. “King Ebor.”
My gaze lowered to the king’s leg, stained crimson.
King Ebor inclined his head. “Taranis. Do you know this fortal who cut me with iron?”
“Yes. But it’s more important that we know who put the chain around you. Did you see who it was?”
He shook his head. “Someone snuck up on me in the Hawkwood Forest while I slept.” He glared at me again, his eyes darkening with shadows, and he pointed at me. “Who is that?”
At the sound of his wrathful voice, dread tightened my stomach. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” I tried to steady my voice. I’d nearly cut this man’s throat. “The person who abducted you is threatening to kill my friend if I don’t do what she wants.”
“King Ebor,” said Roan with reverence. “She’s just a pawn, a fool. She’s not your real enemy.”
Maybe he was trying to help, but his words stung.
Roan sheathed his sword. “You’re injured, Your Highness. I’ll help you return to the Hawkwood Forest.”
The king curled his lip with disgust, stepping away from me, and the three fae walked to the oak doors at the far end of the temple.
Before pushing through the doors, Roan cast a final glare at me, his expression positively glacial. Flanked by Elrine and the king, Roan pushed through the oak doors. Elrine didn’t even bother looking back at me. Just a pawn and a fool.
“Guy’s a fucking bellend,” muttered Gabriel before turning to me. “Are you okay?”
I smiled weakly. “No.”
“You took a risk, not killing that boar.”
I shook my head. “We had to show the abductor that she needs to talk to us. Now she knows that as long as she doesn’t talk to us directly, she isn’t in complete control. And that’s what she really wants. Complete control.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I heaved a breath, turning to leave through the doors—but something shimmered in the corner of my eye. I turned, watching one of the silver cups glimmer with a moving image. Frozen in place, I looked at it, my heart beating wildly. As before, I couldn’t feel the reflection, couldn’t bond with it. It belonged to someone else.
“Gabriel,” I breathed, picking up the chalice. On its surface, an image appeared of Scarlett, sitting in the same room as before, just below the mirror, her hands tied, mouth gagged. Except this time, her left foot was bare. Something glimmered underneath. It took me a moment to realize what it was—a round mirror.
I tried to take in all the details I could, but once again, the abductor had placed the mirror I was looking through too close for me to take in any details. Just a stone floor, a dimly lit room.
Then, a figure stepped into the reflection, next to Scarlett. I couldn’t see her face—a dark fog floated around her, obscuring her features, barely showing her silhouette. Through the murky fog around her body, one of her hands materialized, holding a pair of garden shears.
The woman turned away from me, and I could see Scarlett’s eyes widen in fear at the sight of the shears. I’d never seen Scarlett scared before—and she looked terrified of this woman.
“Gabriel,” I breathed again, my heart stopping. “Something terrible is about to happen.”
Gabriel leaned over my shoulder, watching the images on the silver surface. He touched my back, as if trying to soothe me.
I clenched the chalice tightly, sweat dampening my palms. Frantically, I tried to feel for the reflection, to jump through, to help my friend. I could have tried to jump through a wall for all the good it did.
I stared as the woman knelt by Scarlett, and grabbed her foot with one hand.
“No,” I said, choking.
“It’s going to be okay, Cassandra,” said Gabriel, but by the tone of his voice, I could tell he knew it wasn’t.
The woman slid the curved blades of the shears slid around Scarlett’s toe. A drop of blood dropped on the mirror under Scarlett’s foot.
“No!” I screamed at the reflection.
The woman snapped the shears shut, and Scarlett’s toe dropped on the mirror’s surface, blood streaming from the wound. Scarlett threw back her head, screaming silently, her eyes wide with pain.
My world tilted, and I faltered. Gabriel slid a hand around my waist to steady me. I was trembling, aghast, feeling Gabriel’s hands around me as he tried to pull the chalice from my hand. I pushed him off roughly.
White hot fury blazed through my body. “I will find you, and I will put you in the ground. I will put you in the ground!”
Her face clouded in dark mist, the figure turned to look at me, even though reflections didn’t carry sound. Then she looked down at Scarlett’s foot, still bleeding profusely on the mirror. The figure touched the bloody mirror, dipping her finger in the blood.
And it was gone. The mirror was clean, its surface gleaming. Another spurt of blood from Scarlett’s toe stump splashed on the mirror’s surface, only to disappear completely. What the hell?
Then I realized what she had done. Mirror magic let one connect between two reflections, enabling objects to be sent from one to the other.
Somewhere in London, blood was pouring through a reflective surface. A puddle, a window, a car mirror, soaked in Scarlett’s blood. And the abductor didn’t have to clean a single drop of blood on the floor. An efficient, clean job.
Gabriel grabbed me as my knees went weak. The chalice’s surface went dark, my own horrified face reflec
ted back at me. My mind lunged at it, searching for a bond with the reflection. Frantically, I searched for Scarlett, for the abductor, for that dimly lit room… but I found nothing.
“I think the abductor just clarified what happens if we stand up to her.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I tried, Gabriel. I tried to do what needs to be done. And look what happened.”
“Come on.” Still supporting me, he nodded at the door. “We have to get out of here.”
I walked a few steps, and then felt something wet dripping on my leg. Staring down, I looked uncomprehending at the red stain soaking through my pants, sticking to my thigh.
“What is it?” Gabriel asked.
I touched my pants, then raised my fingers, frowning at the blood that stained them red.
Gabriel frowned. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my ankle,” I said in confusion. I traced the trail of blood with my fingers upwards until they brushed the bottom of my bag.
It felt wet.
Fingers shaking, I opened the bag, staring inside.
Blood pooled in my bag, streaming from one of my hand mirrors, staining everything red. And between a blood-soaked gum pack and my keys, I could just glimpse a small, pale toe.
Chapter 19
Some images can’t be forgotten, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how hard you try. The memory of my bag, and Scarlett’s small toe in it, would be etched in my mind until the day I died. It would haunt me in my quiet moments and my nightmares.
I couldn’t remember getting back to the car, or watching the temple walls disappear around us. I dimly remembered Gabriel taking my bag from me and putting it in the car’s trunk, which was probably for the best. I’d wanted it as far from me as possible.
As we drove back to Gabriel’s home, the only thing that pierced my fog of horror was the strangely discordant sight of people dancing in the streets. While dread was eating a hole in my chest, every few blocks, someone was dancing ecstatically on the street corners. Probably a stupid flash-mob, I guessed, their jubilation completely at odds with the endless screaming in my head. If Scarlett’s toe in my handbag had this effect on me, how terrified must she be right now? Her suffering at the hand of this lunatic was more than I wanted to think about.
When we reached Gabriel’s home, I went straight to the guest room and pulled off my bloody clothes, shoving them into the trash. I tried to clear my mind as I hurried to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the bathroom fill with steam. Smears of blood from the abductor’s first message still stained the mirror, and I tried not to look at them. If I was going to get Scarlett back, I needed to stay in control of my emotions.
I stepped into the scalding shower, feeling the hot water wash over my skin. Blood and water mingled over the porcelain, and I scrubbed my skin violently. After a few minutes, I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, keeping my gaze off the bloodied mirror.
At least I had proof that Scarlett was alive. And that the abductor really had her.
Naked, I crossed into the guest room and pulled out a clean pair of underwear from the pile of clothes on my bed, then slipped a black sundress over my head. My hands shaking, I hoisted my suitcase onto the bed and opened it, hastily throwing everything I had into it. As I packed, hot tears slid down my cheeks, and I clenched my jaw, trying to think clearly.
My best friend had been mutilated because of me. I wouldn’t have Gabriel targeted by the CIA or the fae because of me, too. He’d already done enough for me, and it was time to leave. I was an FBI agent, and I could figure out how to get Scarlett back on my own.
It took depressingly little time for me to pack my belongings. Once I had everything stuffed into my tiny suitcase, I grabbed it off my bed and headed out to the living room.
Gabriel sat on the sofa, leaning over his coffee table. While I’d been in the shower, he’d been cleaning the contents of my bag, laying them out to dry on a towel.
“I cleaned everything I could,” he said apologetically. “And, uh… I put Scarlett’s…” He cleared his throat. “In some ice.”
I nodded numbly, wondering if we’d get her back in time for that to do any good.
“I’m leaving,” I said quietly. “I can’t stay here. The CIA is looking for me, and they’ll find out we’re connected.”
“What if the abductor contacts you here?”
I shook my head. “She knows to find me. There are mirrors everywhere. Thanks for everything you’ve done.”
I walked over to the table and picked up the pouch, my purse, and my keys, and shoved them into the pocket of my suitcase.
I hesitated, looking at the knife. “Did you touch it?” I asked.
Gabriel shook his head. “I used gloves. And even with them I could feel its… voice. Why do you keep it?”
“I don’t know.” I picked up the knife. Instantly, it began whispering in my skull. Whore. Filthy pixie whore.
Ignoring its voice, I slid it into my suitcase pocket. Then I took the rest of my possessions, leaving the phone and the mirrors on the towel. “You can throw out everything else. The phone should probably go. I don’t need the CIA tracing me.”
“What’s your plan?” Gabriel asked.
“I don’t have a plan.”
“Cassandra—”
“Thanks for all your help, Gabriel.”
He rose, his eyes glinting with sadness. “I’ll take you to a hotel.”
I shook my head. “It’s better if you don’t.”
“You’re in no shape to be alone right now. I’m taking you.”
I looked at him tiredly. He was wrong. He thought I was falling apart. Maybe that was true, just a little. I’d heard people claim the human body was made of ninety percent water, which couldn’t be true. But right now, I was ninety percent sorrow.
But underneath it all, there was something else simmering.
Molten rage.
I could feel it kindling, knowing that it would take a few hours to become full blown, an inferno of anger. I could wait. I needed that rage. “Fine. Take me to a hotel. Somewhere at least a few miles away.”
He nodded, pulling the suitcase from my hand—the perfect gentleman. I followed him down the stairs, endlessly grateful for his presence in my life.
Downstairs, he pulled open the back door of his car and slid my suitcase into the back seat. I plopped down in the passenger seat, my body racked by fatigue.
As my mind drifted, simmering with anger, Gabriel started the car, taking off through the dark East London streets. I stared out the window, feeling the anger slowly boiling through my veins. I could already feel it in my jaw, clenched tightly, my teeth grinding. My dentist used to say that I would eventually grind my teeth to dust. Right now, it felt likely.
As we pulled onto Bethnal Green Road, I stared out the window at a crowd of dancing people. This time, I studied them more closely, my pulse speeding up. What I’d thought had been an ecstatic expression before wasn’t—not at all. Their mouths were wide open. But they weren’t smiling—they were grimacing, their movements strangely jerky, faces glistening with a sheen of sweat.
Their heads lolled, a haunted look in their eyes. One of the dancers we passed by was an old lady. She flailed and twitched in her spot, her face a mask of pain. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“What the hell?” said Gabriel.
“Are you seeing this?” I asked.
“I’m seeing this.” He slowed down his car, and we rolled slowly past the sidewalk. “I thought they were dancing before. This seems like a… like a spell or something, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I took a shaky breath. “And it probably affects humans, so I wouldn’t slow down too much.”
We drove on in silence. Despite my warnings, Gabriel pulled over twice, to ask two different dancers if they needed help. He didn’t get a response either time. When he pulled up close to the dancers, I could feel their fear pulsing wildly, igniting my body with power. I drank it in without hesitation. I felt a flicker of
guilt at feeding off their terror, but I’d need all the power I could get to get my best friend back.
* * *
The pretty brunette receptionist at the Tower Bridge Hilton found me a single room. At this point, I had no idea how much money I owed Gabriel, but as soon as I got access to my bank account again, I was going to pay him back with interest. While I was checking in, Gabriel’s cell phone rang, and he stepped outside to take it. I was sure someone was reporting exactly what we’d seen on our drive here.
The receptionist handed me my keycard, and I rolled my suitcase to the elevator.
As it carried me up to the third floor, I closed my eyes, my body humming with that wild energy that came from the fear I’d absorbed. The elevator doors opened, and I walked a few doors down the white-walled hallway. At room 303, I inserted my keycard, getting a high-pitched squeak as a reward.
When I pushed the door open and flicked on the lights, I found the message from the abductor already waiting for me on the room’s body-sized mirror.
I stared at it in horror, my heart slamming against my ribs, then quickly shut the door behind me. I read the text, understanding the basics almost immediately. I still didn’t have a phone, so instead I snatched a pen and paper off the bedside table, then hurriedly copied the message. Moving as quickly as I could, I rushed to the bathroom, grabbing a small towel. I rinsed it in the sink, then hurried into the room to clean the message off the mirror before Gabriel found his way to my room.
When I’d cleaned half of it from the mirror, a knock interrupted me.
“Cassandra?” Gabriel’s voice.
“Just a second!” I called, panic rising in my chest. “I’m in the bathroom!”
As fast as I could, I finished wiping the mirror, then shoved the blood-stained towel in the cupboard under the bathroom sink. I rushed back to the door and opened it, barring the way with my body.
Gabriel stood in the doorway, concern etched across his features. “Everything okay? You still look quite shaken.”