Page 43 of Sweet Nightmares
It was a symbol of his deepening trust for her. It would also piss off Harlowe Merriwether, which was why bile climbed up her throat.
Harlowe was a vicious monster. But maybe Jane might become one just as frightening.
Chapter Fifteen
Age 27.
Jane’s life was one of service. Serving and servicing powerful men. Working for the Mirror Mafia was no different. She didn’t have to touch any of these men, but she did follow their every command.
Tonight was no different, except it was a Gilded Alliance meeting. This gathering of the most influential people discussed top-secret issues, including vampires, Blood Mirrors, and long-dead evils that were brewing. It was a meeting of rivals, enemies, and forced allies.
The list of attendees tonight included three powerful mirrors: Nightmare, Nightshade, and Midnight. Names that were far too close and far too confusing for their good. Why did the three most powerful mirrors all have the word night in their nicknames? That was just silly. But try telling them that.
Also in attendance were François, Emrys, Constance, Kordelia, and the leaders of the other four gangs in the city.
Jane, surprisingly, was the newest member of their group, and she was fairly certain she was only invited because she was Nightmare’s wife.
The meeting took place in one of the curtained alcoves of the Viridian Nightclub. A sentient building that catered to one’s greatest desires. A club of sin and nighttime pleasures. The place was decorated with peacock colors and decor, and everything about the building caused one’s heart to race and other regions to become hot and bothered.
“We have many things to discuss tonight. Shall we get started?” Emrys cut through the group’s side chatter. But as soon as he spoke, Nightshade, an extremely tall Mirror God formed from muscles, growled and glared like he might cut the prince’s head off.
Nightmare was intentionally placed in between them to keep the peace. “Darcy,” Nightmare reprimanded.
Nightshade—also known as the Mirror of Beautiful Decay—aka Darcy’s deadly glare flashed toward Nightmare, who simply shrugged it off.
Emrys ignored the outburst. “I would like to discuss the last two remaining Blood Mirrors. I am becoming more and more convinced that whoever killed the Ashelles and destroyed the first Blood Mirror is out there creating vampires and preying on the weak.”
Every muscle in Jane’s body went tense like a harp string, and she inhaled sharply. Nightmare, out of protective instinct, ran a possessive hand down her thigh and squeezed.
“You have no evidence of that,” said the leader of the Cobra Lilies—another Mirror Mafia, and rival to the Fantômes. Thankfully, he was not a member of the gang that had tortured and kidnapped Jane. If he had been, his life would not be safe from Nightmare.
“If I had solid evidence, I wouldn’t be asking for the Gilded Alliance’s help. I would just handle the matter myself.” Emrys crossed his muscular arms across his chest.
“What does your pretty little ballerina know? Wasn’t she there when her parents were murdered?” Kordelia leaned forward and stroked the arm of her chair like a jungle cat.
Emrys’s mouth fell into a flat line. “Nothing, she was four when her parents were murdered.”
“Perhaps you could dig around in her mind and find out?”
Jane sat forward, reading to attack or do something, but she didn’t need to because, for the first time ever, Emrys and her were aligned on the topic.
“I will not.” Emrys’s tone was riddled with rotting shadows as he picked up a glass of whiskey and took a sip.
Kordelia clicked her tongue. “Then what would you have us do? If you can’t even do the one thing that might give you the answers you seek?”
“I would have you protect our city. Evil is brewing, and it’s going after the second two Blood Mirrors, and since we so brilliantly stripped their locations from everyone’s memories, I have no way of protecting them and their contents.”
“That is not my problem,” Kordelia said.
Emrys’s knuckles went white from how hard he was clutching his glass. “If the villain gets hold of the contents of those mirrors, it’s everyone’s problem.”
“Why not go to your precious Blood Council for help?”
“You and I both know that the Blood Council is a farce. A body that thinks they hold power in this city but don’t,” Emrys said harshly. “The people in this room are the ones who truly control the city, so I am asking you for help.”
Jane bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to intrude, resisting the urge to interrupt the flow of information—a flow of information that was directly related to herself.
The Mirror of Midnight sat forward, her bubblegum-pink hair bouncing with her movement. “It is a quandary. How does one find something that cannot be found?” Midnight—also called Periwinkle—spoke with the voice of an eerie child, and had the face of a seventeen-year-old while being over a thousand.
