Page 75 of Nightmare's Dance

“I never expected to get to keep you once the princes came for you, but I also expected them to come much sooner than they did. If I’d have known then what I know now, I’d have given in to you much sooner. Also, I never would have let them take us a few weeks ago. I regret that.”

“Now we know. Also, they had guns.”

He nodded.

The water had warmed, and we got busy cleaning up. We were just about to get busy in other ways when someone screamed from the den.

“What the hell?”

We rushed out of the shower. I dried off just enough to not be drenched and pulled on the dream clothing I still had and formed it into a workout outfit.

Geraint struggled into a pair of sweats, and we ran out into the den.

Two kids huddled on the floor, sobbing, while an older teen comforted them.

“Monster in the mirror,” one of them gasped out, pointing.

I looked into the mirror over the fireplace. Bloody Mary appeared looking worse than normal, skin torn, leaking fluid, and showing bone. She gestured wildly and mouthed “cabin.”

Geraint and I rushed out the door, sprinting for the woods. Neither of us had extra breath for conversation, and my sides heaved by the time we made it. I clutched at the door handle, sucking in air. Geraint shoved on the door after I jiggled the knob, and we went inside.

“Princess,” Mary called from the cabin mirror. She sounded muted and far away, though her battered image was right there. “It’s Nic. He needs you.”

“What do I do?”

“Just take him from me.” Mary looked over her shoulder, eyes wide.

I reached into the mirror and felt familiar hands grab weakly at mine. A shadowy form appeared in the depths of the mirror, and I yanked.

Mary screamed in pain. Geraint grabbed me around the waist and pulled, and I refused to let go of Nic. We tumbled backward, dragging the Nightmare prince out of the mirror. He landed on top of me, feeling way lighter than he should, nearly insubstantial, as if he truly were a shadow of himself.

The mirror fractured, glass splitting loudly, almost covering the sound of Mary’s agonized screams as whatever had been after her caught up to her.

Geraint helped me untangle myself from him and Nic.

“He looks like he was drained,” I gasped, hand covering my mouth. Nic looked like a black and white drawing, no color left, flat, almost lifeless. Even the shadow that usually shifted around him was still. His hair, normally in a ponytail, was free, and I brushed some of it out of his face.

“You still carry essence, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Give it to Nic. As much as you can. He’s dying,” Geraint said urgently.

“Okay.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to Nic’s. He was cold and unresponsive, but it gave me a connection to pass the essence to him.

He took it all, and slowly, life returned to his features. His chest rose weakly, and he coughed. I helped him roll on his side.

“Nic,” I cried out.

“Ember?”

I pulled the Nightmare prince into my lap and held him while he recovered. “Are you okay?” It was a dumb question. Obviously, he wasn’t.

“I think I will recover,” he answered after an extended silence, voice labored.

“What do you need?”

“Rest,” he said, weakly. “And you.”

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