Page 28 of Sweet Nightmares (Wicked Mirrors #2)

Chapter Twenty

I t had been three hundred and ninety-five days since Jane had seen Nightmare. He was a ghost haunting his own mansion. Sometimes, she felt him on the wind and moving in the shadows. Lingering. Always lingering.

But anytime Jane got too close, the presence disappeared.

She wanted to ask for his help so badly.

Jane needed him for many reasons. He was a heartless monster, but his presence was strangely calming, and now, in the absence of it, she felt empty.

They were never ones for much talking, but they didn’t need to talk to communicate.

They spoke in desperate glances, coiled muscles, and rare smiles.

Nightmare was her companion—an evil one, but hers. And for someone so wicked, he seldom hurt her—never intentionally. Jane didn’t believe he took dance from her to harm her—it was the result—he was trying to help her and trying to keep her from getting injured.

And she had lied to him.

The one thing he asked her not to do, without the compulsion.

But then, Jane hadn’t meant to hurt him either. The difference between them was the drama. Although that wasn’t fair either, she hadn’t spoken to him for a year after he’d hurt her.

Perhaps they were both wrong. Both were ridiculously stubborn—both self-sabotaging.

Jane sighed and flipped through the autopsy reports for the hundredth time.

There was something in here. She knew it.

Otherwise, why else would her magic tell her to take them?

Random murders of teens, vagrants, and ladies of the night.

They didn’t have anything in common. Not even the manner of death.

Some were drained of blood. Other victims had their throats ripped out like a dog had mauled them, and others still were stabbed or maimed in some other way. So what was the connection?

Could it be vampires?

Emrys had confirmed that none of his vampires had been attacking anyone. According to the Blood Accords, vampires were forbidden from making new vampires, at the pain of death. However, Emrys did believe that the person who killed Jane’s family was ignoring those laws.

And if Jane could find the vampires responsible for the attacks, then she might find the man responsible for killing her parents.

Jane knew it was a man because she repeatedly heard his voice in her night terrors.

But to find them, she needed to find the connection between these victims. Jane closed her eyes and tried to call upon her magic, but it was in a mood tonight. Like a crusty, infected wound: red, raw skin oozing green pus. When her magic felt like this, it never complied, but she tried anyway.

Jane curled her fingernails into her palms, forcing them to bite into the skin. A small sense of discomfort helped her appeal to her magic. She closed her eyes and asked, Show me the way. Help me see with your eyes, your strength, and your smarts.

Seducing her magic and complimenting it always did wonders. It was not a person or a being, but sometimes it acted like it and loved praise.

Her intestines tightened, her pulse quickened, and her skin prickled. Something was happening—some kind of knowing . Jane opened her eyes and scanned all the documents again, her magic thrumming. When she finally saw it, she felt so foolish.

The location.

They weren’t all found in the same place. That would have been obvious. But all had some sort of foliage on their body or nearby. Eucalyptus leaves or flowers. Notable, because they were in only one place in the city. The Nature District, located on the west side by the Lake of Mirrors.

Eucalyptus trees weren’t native to New Swansea. They came from a country far across the Kardic Ocean. So, the only place these victims could have died was the Nature District.

Jane jumped up, grabbed her tweed coat and gun, and promptly left Nightmare’s mirror. Her magic vibrated in her bones—pleased she was going on a dangerous adventure. Possibly even directing it.

Sometimes, Jane was just a little too impulsive. Running out of the mirror and taking the first cable car to the Nature District was not the smartest choice. Only one cable car station was located in the Nature District, and it transported people to the trail that led to the Lake of Mirrors.

It was still a twenty-seven-minute hike to the mirrors, and unfortunately for Jane, most of the Eucalyptus trees surrounded the mirrors.

Church bells struck midnight. The ringing was heard all the way from the Spirit District. Jane jolted at the sound. She should just turn around and go home, but as soon as she had the thought, her magic tensed, causing a sharp sensation through her body.

So, her magic was driving this mission.

It didn’t make Jane feel better. The last thing she needed was an inanimate force deciding her actions.

But here she was, so on she went, taking the trail to the mirrors. A sliver of moonlight cut through the forest canopy, formed of mostly cypress and pine trees, and illuminated the path.

Moving slowly and purposefully, she tried to get as far along the trail as possible while avoiding cracking sticks and crunching foliage beneath her feet—she did not need to attract the monsters hiding in the Nature District.

The Nature District was a hunting ground.

Jane swallowed past the lump in her throat. The area devoted to parks and wildlife was no place for a reasonable person to be after dusk. Black market dealings and gangs canvased the Verona Forest. The good news was that she, too, was a gangster—an armed one.

Yet, danger still lingered on the wind.

Insects buzzed, and low grumbling howls and owl hoots echoed through the trees, their branches scratching the heavens. The trees, shadows, and midnight hid all that should not be seen. All that should not be done.

Her stomach grumbled loudly at the sight of twinberries, her mouth watering.

Her limbs weakened, and a daze hit like a boulder as she realized she’d not eaten in hours.

Unfortunately, twinberries were toxic, and would kill her most unpleasantly.

So she trekked on, searching for any sign of vampires.

What she would do if she found one, she had no idea. Because, like a fool, Jane hadn’t thought this through.

Which was so unlike her.

Jane was meticulous and reasonable. She wasn’t impulsive or reckless.

But her magic was.

It was hungry for something. It was directing her actions, and senselessly, she was listening.

When an owl cry came from next to her ear, Jane’s heart stumbled. The forest was not a safe place for a woman at night. Jane really should have brought Emrys or, if not Emrys, then at the very least, Francois and some of the Fant?mes’ guards.

Jane reached a clearing and was met with the face of a tortured statue. Hundreds of such statues surrounded a vast and glamorous mirror. She was here.

Sweat dripped from Jane’s temple, and her left calf spasmed. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she sucked in a labored breath.

The Lake of Mirrors was a lake formed from seven separate mirrors. The most well-known of which was the Mirror of Chaos.

When mirrors were sleeping or inactive, they were simply mirrors—solid silver glass.

Hence, they got their names as mirrors—not doors, which Jane honestly thought would have been a better name for them.

When mirrors were active, they swirled with magic and pulsed like living, breathing things, taking on the personalities of the gods that rested inside them.

Nightmare had a massive, commanding personality, and so too did his mirror.

Enthralling.

The Lake of Mirrors were all dormant. But they sparkled with a heavy darkness. It was an attraction that people often came to look at, because while it was dormant, it was still beautiful and sinister.

It was truly an experience to behold them.

The Lake of Mirrors glimmered. A sea of pink peonies, white roses, and ice-blue forget-me-nots laced the silver and was lined with diamonds—all frozen under an expanse of ice.

It was the cursed crown jewel of New Swansea.

An intricately crafted tiara, jewel after jewel, rose after rose, banded together into a magnificent creation.

But in its beauty lurked a dangerous power.

Jane tried not to get distracted by the mirrors because she needed to search the Eucalyptus trees for evidence. Luckily, they were now in sight. It only took her five minutes to find a clue—a cave set into the rock at the western edge of the district. Voices dripped from inside it.

Curiosity climbed up her throat, and she took a step closer—but sometimes, it felt like Jane must be forged from bad luck, because she immediately stepped on a twig.

In a blink, Jane was surrounded by ten people—vampires. Seven men and three women. All looking starved.

Fuck.

Well, magic, you got us into this mess. You better get us out of it.

The ringleader—presumably—stepped toward her and sniffed the air. “You smell… Strange.”

“What a compliment.” Jane smiled. “A woman always loves to hear that she smells strange. I know it’s not because I am on my cycle.” Jane took a step back from him but ran into one of his minions behind her.

Her heart stormed, pounding like a thunderclap. The worst part was that they could hear it, too, with their vampiric hearing.

“Just out of curiosity, do vampires like it when a woman is on their cycle? I have always meant to ask Emrys, but I always manage to forget.”

The ringleader cocked his head. “Ah, so you know what we are. Curious, since humans are not supposed to know of our existence.”

Jane held up her arm, its blood-painted tattoo visible. “I am a Council Member.” Though, Jane had only gone to three council meetings, and they were boring and filled with useless information Emrys and Nightmare had already shared with her.

“The Blood Council,” he seethed, clutching her chin tightly. It was not pleasurable, like when Nightmare did it.

Jane smiled through the fear ticking in her chest. “I would not recommend it. The meetings are very tedious.”