Page 6 of The Mirror

“The way you looked at the mirror, Son, I knew, Iknewyou saw something I didn’t. I couldn’t. Then, oh, such relief, I heard Yoda barking, then the other dogs. I heard them running, and I told you to wait. ‘Please, just wait.’ Trey and Owen rushed in, the dogs, too. And you woke up.”

“I don’t remember any of that. Or… some, like a dream that’s blurry and faded when you wake up. I heard you tell me to wait. I think. And the dogs barking. I felt half-in, half-out, I guess. Then I was awake and standing in front of the mirror.”

She shifted to Owen. “You saw what I saw in it.”

“Light, movement, color.”

“Trey and I didn’t. We’re not Pooles. It’s a portal,” Cleo said with absolute certainty. “But not for everyone. You said it was pulling you.”

“It was. There was music. I heard music.”

“Yeah,” Owen confirmed. “I didn’t feel that pull, but I saw something, heard something.”

“You didn’t feel it, but you went with me.”

This time Owen’s phone sang out with “We Are Family.”

“One weird trip,” Owen said, and poured himself another shot of whiskey. “Five minutes, ten tops, but memorable.”

“Closer to an hour,” Trey corrected. “Fifty-six minutes.”

“It couldn’t have been.” Shaking her head, Sonya looked at Owen for confirmation. “Just a few minutes.”

“That just says time’s different here than wherever you were. Where the hell were you?” Cleo demanded.

“Lisbeth Poole’s wedding reception. In the ballroom, in 1916,” Sonya said, and told them.

“She didn’t expect us.” Nudging her glass away, Sonya sat back. “When I called out, it threw her off. I… I don’t think she saw us, but she heard me. And I think it scared her, for a minute. Half a minute. But it didn’t stop her.”

“It was already too late.” Owen frowned into his glass. “No way to stop it, stop her.”

“I thought if I could get to the ring first. Take Lisbeth’s ring so Dobbs couldn’t. But—”

“You flew,” Owen said. “She didn’t aim at me, but dead on at you. Shot you back, ten, twelve feet, and right through people who were running forward.”

He picked up his glass a last time, drained the whiskey. “That’s something you don’t see every day. The spider was different.”

“The one whose guts are on your shoe?” Trey asked.

“That’s the one. Bigger than a wolf spider, but with black widow markings. People went right through it, as it went straight for Sonya. Fast fucker, too. I stomped its ugly ass, and we got the hell out of there.

“Lisbeth Poole was dead,” he said to Sonya, “as she’s always going to be dead on that night in 1916.”

“Then what’s the point of all this?” Sonya demanded, shoving impatiently at her long brown hair. “If it’s always going to be too late, if there’s no stopping her from killing them, what’s the point?”

Cleo’s phone played Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings.”

“It’s never been about saving those brides, those women, Son.” Cleo spoke gently. “It’s about finding their rings, the seven rings, and breaking the curse. Expelling Hester Dobbs from this house, and breaking her curse.”

“Dobbs has the damn rings.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Trey laid a hand over hers. “We’ll figure it out,” he repeated, “but we won’t figure it out tonight.”

“This morning,” Owen corrected. “I’ve got to be at work in…” He tapped his phone for the time. “Shit, about an hour and a half. And I need some damn shoes. I’m scrambling some eggs.” He pushed up. “Got bacon?”

“You’re scrambling eggs?”

“Cousin, if I’m awake to see the sunrise, I want breakfast. I’ll take care of the bacon.”

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