Page 101

Magic shimmers in the air. Something is happening, I’m just not sure what. Then a mirror slowly takes form. It’s different from the other mirrors I’ve seen, but then it’s mine. It’s about six feet tall, and the frame is ornate gold, the glass is black, with ripples of silver.

“That’s impressive,” Khaosti says.

“You like it? It’s my first.”

He looks a little alarmed at that. “Will it take us to the Chamber of Mirrors?”

“Nope. It will take us directly where we need to go.” I hope. Because otherwise we could end up anywhere, under the sea, or a mile up in the air, or…

There’s only one way to find out. “Follow me,” I murmur.

Then I step toward the mirror. It recognizes me and the ripples intensify. I take the last step, and I’m sucked in and shot out the other side. I’m expecting it and manage—just— to stay on my feet. A second later, Khaos stumbles into me, and we both go down.

I lie still for a moment, feeling his weight on top of me, his arms around me. But the ground is damp, and we have things to do.

I wriggle, and he pushes himself off me. Getting to my feet, I brush myself down, then look around. It’s nighttime here but I can see we’re in the right place. Light is spilling from the downstairs window of Pete and Lissa’s house. I glance at the drive and see Pete’s big, black truck parked there. Shit. I’d really hoped he wasn’t going to be here. But it’s not an insurmountable problem. I can always stick him with my sword or burn him with my celestial fire. I’m so tempted.

“Where are we?” Khaosti asks.

“The home of the universe’s biggest asshole. Come say hi to my lovely foster parents.”

“You hid Lucifer’s Mirror here?” He sounds…disbelieving.

“Yeah. In my bedroom”

“You left Lucifer’s Mirror, the mirror that Lucifer and all his minions have been hunting for. In your bedroom.” He shakes his head. “And you think it will still be here?”

I don’t answer, but just head for the front door. He follows behind me. I’ve only been gone a few weeks, but the place looks even more dilapidated. Paint is peeling from the door and windows and the whole place has a sad, depressing feel. I push open the front door. It’s never locked—no one would botherbreaking into this shithole. Inside, the air is stale, and the place stinks of greasy food and cigarette smoke.

Should I just ignore them and head straight downstairs? But while I’m still considering the matter, the door to the living room swings open and Pete stands there in his usual uniform of low-slung jeans and grubby white vest, a bottle of beer dangling from his hand.

A look of fear flashes through his eyes, before he remembers I’m only a pathetic little girl he can bully. “Well, if it isn’t the freak come back.” He takes a swallow of beer. “Why don’t you piss off to wherever you’ve been hiding. You’re not wanted here.” Then his eyes narrow. I think he might have spotted Nightfall. “Are you off to a fucking fancy dress party?”

“No, it’s a real sword,” I say.

“So is this one.” Khaosti comes up beside me and draws his sword. He holds it out and pokes Pete in the belly.

He drops his bottle of beer and stumbles backwards. “What the…”

Lissa appears behind him. “Amber.” She actually smiles—she must be high. “Have you seen Josh? He hasn’t come home for…a while.”

I shake my head. She isn’t going to be winning any best-mom awards anytime soon.

Pete is standing there, a dazed look on his face. I whirl around and kick him in the chest. He crashes backward into Lissa and they both go down in a tangle of messy limbs. I step forward, pull the door closed on them and whisper a locking spell. If they want out, they’ll have to climb through the window, and I know for a fact that it’s nailed shut. They’re out of the way for a while.

That was fun.

I lead Khaosti into the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement. I can feel the pulse of magic.

“This place feels…off in some way,” Khaosti says.

“I spelled it to discourage Pete or Lissa coming down here.” I get to the door of my bedroom and speak the spell to unlock it, then usher Khaos inside and close it behind us.

I head to the corner of the room where the mirror stands draped in a blanket where I left it. Taking a deep breath, I grab the corner of the blanket and rip it off. Behind me, Khaosti gasps.

The mirror is seven feet tall, the frame black and ornately carved. A demon’s head hangs in the top center, emerald-green eyes gleaming with malice. Wings of black metal sprout from the sides. The thing looks alive. The glass is a blank, but as I stare into the Stygian darkness, crimson flames curl and flicker.

There’s no putting this off, because if I give myself time to think about it, I’ll probably run away screaming.