Chapter 39

Thirty-Nine

E very muscle in Quinn's body was as taut as a harp string.

"I see you are shocked and horrified, little dancer, but in fairness, you aren't allowed in this wing." Kordelia lounged on a chair, her feet dangling in the air. "And you brought her here, Princeling. Is she your sacrifice?"

Quinn cringed. She felt the vein in her neck budge as she took another slow step backward. "I—" she started, but she had nothing to say.

There was nothing to say.

Before Quinn could think, run, or do anything, a vampire moved with inhuman speed and trapped her against the wall, and two other vampires were on Emrys, who didn't fight back. They held him up against the opposite wall as he watched the scene unfold silently.

Shock spiked in Quinn and ripped through her flesh. Another person betrayed her. Again. And it was all too much. Had Emrys brought her as a sacrifice? Were they all working together to free their paintings and take over the city? Was it all lies?

Fear captured her tongue, and she couldn't say anything or do anything but hear the pounding of the beast in her heart, begging to break free of its cage .

Kordelia sauntered up beside them. "What should I do with a human girl who won't listen?" She clicked her tongue. "Naughty, naughty, naughty."

The vampire holding Quinn flashed her retractable fangs before biting down on one of her claws. It was sultry and disturbing all at once.

A trail of gooseflesh licked up Quinn's arms, and she felt the blood leech from her face.

"The men," Quinn uttered, not meaning to say it. Fear cut her stomach and stole her rational thoughts as her eyes rested on the blood bags.

Kordelia clicked her tongue. "Oh, don't feel bad for these men. They are all predators, every one of them." She picked at her fingernails. "We research and vet them. These are the dishonorable ones. The men and women who treat the people respectfully aren't taken to these rooms. We only do this to the vilest of men and women—although that's a much lesser number. The ones who abuse and assault innocent people. We would never do that to someone who didn't deserve it. But you aren't bad. You're a nosy human. What should we do with a nosy human?"

Quinn's heart hammered, and a tear of sweat rolled down her forehead. "Please, I—"

"Leave her be," Constance said with the steely timbre of a snake. "Although, I don't mind if you compel her to leave."

Kordelia treaded backward, obeying Constance's command, and the vampire holding Quinn loosened her grip but stood blocking the way out. "You will—"

"There is no need to compel her. She already knows about us and the council." Emrys cut in. "We came here to ask you, Constance, if you killed Jane?"

"Of course not."

"Are you willing to let us sample your fingerprints?" he asked steadily.

"Of course!" she said. "I have nothing to hide." Constance seemed to get the irony of her statement because she amended it. "Well, nothing besides this."

"Really, you have nothing to hide?" Giselle scoffed, stepping into the room from the hallway. Jevon strode in beside her, tapping his fingers on his pants. The tapping became more frequent when he was upset, and his expression painted a thousand pictures of distress.

"Then explain how we just found this hiding in your bedroom?" Giselle held up the silver sequined dress between two fingers as if it were the plague. The dress was drenched in blood, almost as if it bathed in it.

Quinn clutched the wall, her knuckles turning white. "Oh, fuck," she whispered and fell to her knees, her body crumbling under the weight of this knowledge.

There was no denying it now. Constance killed Jane. The evidence was unshakable.

Quinn's body trembled and couldn't make it stop. Everything was obscured with far too many useless feelings, and she didn't know how to think anymore or find the reason. Constance didn't just kill Jane—the closest person Quinn had to a sister—she also threatened Quinn—and had tortured and tried to kill her.

There were no words for that level of betrayal and heartache.

Quinn smashed her hands into her face, clawing at her cheeks. She hated emotions so much. Sometimes, she wished they could be removed altogether.

The second and third fears from the Mirror of Terror were coming true: public emotions and a friend's betrayal.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

But more importantly, Constance was a monster and a murderer. Jane, her parents, the girl in the alley, the reporter. So many people died at her hands.

Quinn's breaths quivered. "How could you, Constance? You're one of my best friends. And all this time we've been investigating Jane's murder together, you were responsible."

Constance took a step back, her eyebrows performing a grand jeté. "Quinn, I haven't been investigating Jane's murder with you, and as much as I love you as a friend, I would never consider you my best friend. I only dance ballet with you and only sometimes. I mean, I haven't even been at class in weeks."

"I . . . what?" Quinn flinched, confusion lighting up her core. "You've been at auditions all week, haven't you?" Was Quinn going crazy, or was Constance lying again? "I've been with you every day this week. I've known you for three years. We do almost everything together."

Quinn held her breath, her insides melting into ash. Nothing made sense. Constance was her friend . . . her best friend . . . something was wrong, and Quinn didn't think it was just an effect of the Viridian mirror anymore.

"Oh, well, that answers my suspicions." A delighted smile climbed Kordelia's porcelain cheeks. "Seren's back."

What the fuck did that mean? Quinn swallowed hot coals.

"The only thing that is relevant here is that you killed Jane and betrayed us," Giselle said. "And we have proof." She handed the pictures from the night of the murder over. "You were wearing this dress." Giselle held up the dress between her fingers. "And it was found covered in blood in your rooms."

"Like she would keep it in her rooms," Kordelia scoffed.

Constance stared down at the pictures between her fingers, her face a stone statue, unmoving, and her emotions masked. She turned her gaze to Kordelia and said, "It would seem I must apologize. You were right."

Without saying anything else, Constance handed over the photos to her sometimes-lover.

Kordelia—whose face was poison—glanced at the photos and said, "Yes, Seren is back and apparently more destructive than ever." Kordelia pointed to the picture. "That is not Constance."

"My camera," Giselle started.

Kordelia held up a hand, silencing everyone. "Before you argue with me, just know that I am not foolish enough to mistake my lover's twin sister for her more than once. "

"So, it did happen once?" Emrys raised a cocky, far too interested brow. "I'd love to hear that story."

"And I'd love to put a knife through your heart. I know it wouldn't kill you, but I imagine it would hurt quite a bit," Kordelia purred like a hunting lioness.

Emrys loosened his cravat. "Maybe we can play that game another time."

"Wait." Quinn's voice quivered. "Constance, you have a twin sister?"

"It would seem that her twin sister, Seren, has been impersonating her for some time now." It was Kordelia who responded. "This one is Seren." She held out a photo of Constance in a silver sequined dress. "And this one is Constance." She held out the second photo, but this time, she was in a silver velvet dress that barely sparkled.

Constance lowered herself into a chair and sighed. "Your murderer is my sister."

"Oh, holy mirrors," Quinn gasped and stared at the photos closely, her heart rupturing. Lies. So many lies. She didn't even know what to believe. Looking at the pictures now, even knowing that they were two separate people, it was hard to tell them apart. Quinn couldn't find a single difference between them.

Kordelia returned to her throne-like chair and clicked her heels. "They may look identical, but trust me, they are worlds different. Hanging out with Seren is like hanging out with a party full of people high on Summer's Dust—" An upper drug known for giving people false happiness and far too much energy.

"Seren disappeared over twenty years ago, leaving New Swansea and everything she'd known behind. Kordelia told me she thought she might be back, but I didn't believe her." Constance sat up quickly, crossed the room, filled a glass with bourbon, and returned to pacing faster than Quinn could blink. "But I should've known. Seren is dynamite, waiting to explode."

"You're drinking?" Kordelia raised a concerned brow .

"Yes," Constance said. "It seems like a good time to start up again."

Kordelia let out a long-suffering sigh. "You should've grabbed me a glass," Kordelia pouted before standing up and grabbing one for herself. "Anyone else want a drink?"

Everyone shook their heads.

Kordelia turned to her sometimes-lover and said, "See, that's the proper way to get yourself a drink."

Quinn didn't know how to process any of this information, especially the lies, so she stood in silence, her heart tumbling.

"I should have known too," Emrys said, pulling his cravat from around his neck and removing his suit jacket. "Twenty-five years ago, Seren fell in love, but her romance ended very poorly. Her betrothed was a council member, but he wanted to have eternal youth like Seren, so they went to a mirror and bargained. The mirror gave him eternal youth, but it turned him into a monster. Or at least part of him into a monster. He was split in two—one half of him remained himself, and the other half only wanted chaos and destruction."

"It was like a demon lurking under his skin," Constance added. "Gideon held the demon at bay for a long time—"

"Until he didn't." Kordelia took a sip from her glass. "But I always thought he traded his empathy to a mirror?"

"He did, eventually," Constance said. "Or at least parts of it."

"What happened to him?" Jevon asked, leaning against the wall, tapping his fingers on his knee.

"He died at the hands of the council," Emrys said. "Seren vowed her revenge, and then she disappeared. I honestly thought she was more likely to refuse to drink blood and turn to stone than do anything to hurt anyone. She was depressed, not murderous. She was always a bit erratic, but she was kind and gentle at her core."

"So, now she is back and taking her revenge? What does that mean for the mirrors and your paintings?" Jevon asked .

"That's the true question," Emrys said. "What does she want, and why has she been so desperate to get it?"

"Maybe she just wants chaos." Kordelia bit at her fingernails in a far too seductive way. "For revenge."

Constance shifted uncomfortably. "She wants to destroy the Accords. That's always been her goal to destroy the laws that bind vampires."

Emrys rubbed his chin and stared at Constance, taking in her every micro movement and every one of her features, almost as if he were trying to paint her correctly in his head. "We have another problem."

"What?" Four voices said in unison.

"Seren knows all of our plans." He closed his eyes and sighed, almost as if he were mad at himself. "I should have known." His face fell into a mask of shadows. "She's been with us all along. Always one step ahead."

Quinn curled her fingers into the feathers on her skirt. Still too frozen in shock to do anything but listen. Her best friend wasn't who she said she was. She was a murderer, and she killed Quinn's parents. It was too much to process.

Tears fell freely from Quinn's eyes as she shook and shook and shook. Everyone was too preoccupied with their schemes and conversation to notice her.

"That means she knows about the glitter bombs." Giselle squeezed her fists tight, her face red with fury. While Quinn froze, Giselle fought. "She has the upper hand."

"No, she had the upper hand," Emrys said. "She has no idea where you were going to place them or how they work, and now that we know her plans and what she's been doing, we can stop her."

"So, what do we do now?" Giselle asked, worry twisting her normally brave features.

Fear, unease, and exhaustion painted the room. Quinn was still a statue of silence.

Eventually, Emrys glanced at her distressed expression, walked over to her, and placed a soft, gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's a lot to process. You're allowed to be afraid and feel betrayed. You're allowed to take a moment."

"We don't have a moment," Quinn breathed. "We need to find the third Blood Mirror and lure Seren into a trap."

"Yes." He stroked her cheek. "But first, we have to keep up our appearances and get to the Illusion Ceremony. The entire city is waiting for me to light the pyre. And I need to be there, or it would raise questions we don't want to be asked."