Page 5 of Mirror of Vanity

The fingers dug into my flesh, and I felt bruises forming beneath their relentless pressure. Panic surged through me. My heart pounded in my ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out everything else. My lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, and black spots danced in my vision.

As my eyes slowly closed, the last thing I heard before I passed out was Maci’s cruel laughter. The chilling sound echoed in my mind, taunting me with the promise of unimaginable horrors to come. The laughter reverberated through my entire being, mixing with the pulsing pain in my head and the agonizing ache in my chest.

The world around me faded away, leaving me in a void of darkness…

CHAPTER THREE

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, shaking me gently. “Sawyer, Sawyer, wake up.” Justice’s voice was urgent but soothing, cutting through the haze of my nightmare.

My eyes fluttered open, and I stared into Justice’s concerned gaze. His brows furrowed, and his eyes searched mine for signs of distress.

With a gentle touch, he brushed a stray hair off my sweat-slicked cheek. “You’re having a nightmare. You’re safe. I promise.” His words were a comforting balm, but the lingering terror of the dream still clutched my heart, and my tattoo wouldn’t stop burning.

I nodded numbly, my throat tight and sore as my breath came in short, ragged gasps. I tried to speak, but no words came out.

Around us, the passengers frowned or cast curious glances in our direction, their expressions ranging from concern to annoyance at the disturbance.

Damon leaned over the back of my seat, his eyes wide with worry. “What the hell’s happening? What did you do to my sister?” he demanded.

Justice glanced up at him, his hand still resting reassuringly on my shoulder. “Nothing. She had a nightmare,” he explained in a calm, measured tone.

The stewardess rushed over to us, her heels clicking on the aisle floor. “Is there a problem?” she asked in a pleasant tone, but her disapproving look suggested otherwise.

“We’re fine.” Justice gripped my trembling hand. His voice was sharper than usual.

She gave me a firm look. “Please don’t do it again.”

Justice cast her one of his handsome smiles. “Could you bring us a shot of whiskey and some water?”

“Of course.” She looked at him dreamily before she cast me another disapproving glare. I scowled at her as she headed back to her station, my blood boiling. Did she think I wanted to have a fucking nightmare?

“Wait, what’s that on your throat?” Justice’s voice was laced with concern as he gently moved my hair away from my neck, his fingers brushing my skin.

I cleared my dry throat, wincing at the raw sensation. “What?” My voice came out strangled as if the demons still had their fingers wrapped around me, squeezing the life from me.

Justice’s eyes widened, his face paling. “You have red fingerprints around your throat. Were you strangled in your dream?”

A cold sweat broke out across my body, and I stiffened in my seat, my heart pounding against my ribs. I got hurt in my nightmare? That wasn’t good. At all. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. How could a dream leave marks on my body? That had never happened to me before.

I rubbed my sweaty forehead. “Shit, I feel like I just stepped out of Freddy Krueger’s Nightmare Circus.”

“Tell me what happened,” Justice urged.

Damon and Lisa leaned over the back of our seats to listen. I quickly told them about the dream.

The stewardess returned with a tiny bottle of whiskey, annoyance flickering in her eyes as she handed it to me. I didn’t normally drink whiskey, preferring wine, beer, or vodka, but I didn’t hesitate to take a shot from the small bottle. It burned my throat, the warmth spreading through my chest and belly, but it stopped me from shaking like a frightened little girl.

I felt Justice’s worried gaze on me, and Damon’s hand rested reassuringly on my shoulder from behind. The other passengers had mostly lost interest in my little drama, returning to their books, screens, and conversations. The whiskey dulled the sharp edges of my fear, but it couldn’t erase the memory of those phantom fingers around my throat or the unsettling realization that my nightmare had somehow followed me into the waking world.

“There’s one good thing about all this.” Justice took the empty bottle from me.

I swallowed the water as fast as I could. “What could possibly be good about this?”

Damon’s lips twisted into a smirk, but his gaze was steel. “Maci’s scared,” he stated simply. “You don’t go marking people and making threats unless you’re scared. Scared of what we can do, scared of losing. This shadow dragon has power, sure, but she’s throwing everything she’s got because she knows we’re onto her. We’re a threat.”

He gave my shoulder another quick squeeze. “And you know what we do to things that are scared and cornered? We push back harder. They make mistakes when they’re scared. Maci’s no different. She’s desperate, which means we’ve got her right where we want her.”

Justice nodded. “I believe he’s right.”

---