Page 27 of Sweet Nightmares (Wicked Mirrors #2)

Chapter Nineteen

I t felt like betrayal, as if her skin were coated in tar, burning and sticky.

“Red, you’re really hampering all my fun here,” Emrys said in his smooth and semi-obnoxious manner. “You look like I just pulled out one of your teeth.”

Jane was once again intentionally rifling through the morgue, disrupting evidence and placing her sister in a terrible position, yet again.

If they stole any files or accidentally touched anything they shouldn’t, Quinnevere would be blamed for it.

This was precisely what had happened after the last time Emrys and Harlowe came to the morgue together.

Emrys had lit Quinnevere’s case file on fire.

It was to protect Harlowe from a murder charge, which Jane ultimately agreed with, but it was still horrible for Quinnevere’s standing.

Not to mention, Jane had to lie to her sister after it happened.

Jane sighed. She hated lying, but unfortunately, it had become second nature to her. The last thing she wanted to do was to put her sister in harm’s way. Quinnevere could not be involved with the mafia, Blood Mirrors, or vampires. This life was just too dangerous.

She would have everything Jane originally wanted—the ballet, fame, and fortune.

Not obsessed gods, obsessed mafia bosses, and obsessed vampire kings.

Jane sighed again and glared at her new partner in crime. When Nightmare stopped talking to her, she had to turn to someone else for help in investigating her parents’ deaths. Prince Emrys Avalon seemed the best choice because he had the most interest in the case.

Her parents’ murders were tied to a Blood Mirror.

It had been destroyed the same night the Ashelles were murdered.

With considerable effort, Jane managed to extract the truth from Emrys.

The Mirrors held the vampires’ great weakness.

When vampires were created, the blood that fell during their deaths became twisted portraits of them.

That painting then held their life force, and if destroyed, they died.

During the Vampire Accords seven hundred years ago, all the remaining vampires agreed to have their paintings held in three Blood Mirrors, which would be hidden from the eyes of history.

One of them had been found. The Ashelle’s then agreed to guard it, but they were brutally murdered. But no one knows by whom.

But Jane would find the answers if it were the last thing she’d ever do.

So that was how she ended up betraying her sister and breaking into the morgue with her sister’s archnemesis.

Jane had been looking for the last two years, while Nightmare left her alone, without uncovering anything.

Unfortunately, she needed help. And if help had to come in the form of her vampire boss, then so be it.

They had come to the morgue to steal the Ashelle murder case file.

The file room was filled with rows and rows of metal cabinets that held paper reports for each case. It was one room away from the lab where Quinnevere did the majority of her autopsies.

“Shouldn’t you be able to find it with your witchy powers?” Emrys asked, shutting one of the drawers a little too harshly.

Jane rolled her eyes. That was the last time she’d tell anyone her secrets. “Shouldn’t you be able to find it with your shadow powers?”

Emrys flashed her one of his signature smiles that melted most girls and some boys, too. “If only it were that easy. But you hold the powers of ancient witches. Some say they were once gods. So be a god, Janey, and find these files for us.”

Jane shook her head and glowered at him. “You’re so very annoying.”

“You are not the first to say it.”

“Right.”

But he had a point. Jane pinched her eyes closed and listened.

Everything in life let out a frequency—everything had a magical sound and shape to it.

She just had to tap into the plane of magic.

She was fairly certain there was a realm that existed on the other side of a veil where magic roamed, and when people wanted to use it, they pulled it from there.

But it’s possible that was all in her mind.

Magic was like wildflowers, growing in twisting patterns through fields, in gardens, and along the edges of roads.

Untamable and showing up in places one didn’t expect and sometimes didn’t want.

The objective was to find those flowers, pull them out, and use them.

Each flower was different, with its own tone and heartbeat.

She just had to find the right one.

There it was. Jane opened her eyes and saw what looked like a glowing source of light surrounding a bundle of reports.

Jane pushed Emrys out of the way, and it must have been hard because he stumbled back into a shelf with a glass vase on it.

It rocked from side to side before finally falling, shattering on the floor.

A little yelp sounded from the other room.

Fuck. Quinnevere had heard.

“You couldn’t have caught that?” Jane whispered through her teeth.

Emrys shrugged like he had very much meant to let the vase shatter. Oh, Jane was going to kill him.

Turning back to the cabinet, Jane pulled out the case file, trying to get it before her sister entered the room. But when she closed the drawer, the light didn’t go away. The magic wanted her to grab something else.

She opened the drawer again, and three more files lit up like a floating lantern. Once again, she grabbed them and closed the file cabinet, but as she did, three more cabinets lit up. Jane was unable to get to them because the door slowly opened as Emrys said, “Don’t worry. I’ll distract her.”

He wrapped Jane in shadows, but she waved them off and disappeared into the air instead.

“Impressive.” He smiled and faced the door.

Quinnevere gasped at the sound of his voice, opened the door all the way, and walked in, clicking it behind her, leaving them in the room alone, or at least that’s what she thought. “What’s impressive?”

“I am… obviously.” Emrys waved at his body.

Quinnevere’s face fell. “Oh, you. Have you not done enough damage here already?”

“There will never be a time when I have done enough damage.” He slowly strolled toward her as if to block her gaze from seeing Jane, but he also did it like a cat on the prowl. It was a sign for Jane to continue her goal.

Jane’s gaze moved back to the magic lights. Slowly, methodically, she moved to the first cabinet and inched it open. Of course, it made a sound, which Emrys tried to cover up with his “flirting.”

Quinnevere’s gaze shifted behind him, but he stepped in closer to her and leaned into her, placing his elbow on the door above her head. With his pointer finger, he moved her chin to look up at him. “Eyes on me, Ginger. I don’t like to be ignored.”

“Is there someone back there?” She tried to lean over and look behind him.

Jane held her breath.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He moved so Quinnevere could see behind him. “It’s probably just a rat.”

“The morgue doesn’t have rats.”

“Really? You’d think they would be drawn to dead bodies.”

“Maybe I could make another dead body,” Quinnevere said under her breath, and Jane had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

Emrys did laugh, and stepped back into Quinnevere, blocking her view once more. “Don’t threaten me with a fun time.”

Jane gagged.

“Hilarious.”

“I can be. Would you like to find out?”

Quinnevere crossed her arms protectively across her chest. “What would that consist of?”

He tipped her chin up and whispered something into her ear that Jane could not hear and, frankly, was glad she didn’t. Sexual tension dripped between them, like a flame in slow motion etching toward the fuse of dynamite.

And that was the last thing Jane needed or wanted to see.

So, she fully threw her attention back into her task, and within a minute, she had all the files within her grasp.

“I’m done,” she whispered, low enough that only one with near-perfect hearing could hear it as she turned back to her sister and the prince, holding all the files.

Emrys stepped back and clapped his hands together. “Well, it’s time for me to get going.”

“Wait, why were you in here?” Quinnevere asked, blocking their exit.

“Quickly, I can’t hold my invisibility much longer,” Jane whispered once more to the vampire.

Emrys shrugged. “I was just poking around. I like to do that.”

“You better not have stolen anything.”

“Do you want to pat me down?”

Quinnevere’s mouth dropped open, but her gaze traced his body, undressing him with her eyes. “No, of course not.”

“Your eyes would beg to differ.”

“My eyes were checking to ensure you didn’t steal a file.”

A dark laugh rumbled in his chest. “Sure. Now, if you could get out of my way, I’ll be going.”

Quinnevere glowered at him one more time, but then she grabbed the door handle and walked out, waiting for Emrys to follow. He held open the door so that Jane could slip out before him.

“See you next time, Ginger,” Emrys said, sauntering to the exit like he knew Quinnevere was watching.

Quinnevere pinched her eyes shut. “Please, never come again.”

“Now, where would the fun be in that?”

Five minutes later, Jane and Emrys were full out of the morgue and walking to University Square’s flying gondola. She rounded on him. “Leave my sister alone.”

“Ah, so she is your sister.”

Well, fuck.

“You didn’t hear that.”

He made a zipper motion over his lips. “Hear what?”

“Stay away from her.”

“Why?” He shifted his weight onto one leg. “I have so much fun teasing her.”

“Which is precisely why you need to stay away,” Jane said. “You are going to hurt her.”

He shifted his weight again and let out a lazy, exaggerated shrug. “Maybe.”

“Touch her, and I will kill you.”

“I can’t die.”

Jane shook her head. “Oh, but you can. I can find your Blood Painting and light it on fire.”

Emrys held up his hands in surrender. “Gods, Jane, I was just joking. No need to threaten me so seriously.”

“Then stay away.”

“Fine, fine.” His eyebrows crinkled. “You know you can be quite terrifying.”

“I am Nightmare’s wife. What else would you expect?”