“I did,” Millie says with a nod.
“And you were so frustrated with Brielle and me,” I say and smile when Brielle turns a surprised look at me.
“Us? Why us?”
“Because we didn’t believe,” I reply. “We didn’t understand what was going on. Therefore, Millie and Lucien failed each time—and lost another lifetime.”
“Well, that sucks,” Brielle says. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s happening the way it’s supposed to,” Millie insists and refills our glasses.
Without even leaving her seat. No bottle needed appartently, as my glass is magically full again.
“I think you just like to show off your witchy skills,” Brielle says, making our sister laugh.
I narrow my eyes on Millie as she sips her glass of merlot. “You got your hair done.”
“Actually, I didn’t. I just have a new tool. It’s one of those blow dryers with a brush thingie. And I have to tell you, it shaves lots of minutes off my hair time. And it looks like I went to the salon for a blowout.”
“I think my curly hair would just get tangled in it,” I say with a pout. “I like the highlights, too.”
“Oh, I used the purple shampoo this morning,” Millie says, brushing her fingers through her long, blonde hair as Brielle looks on, sipping her wine. “It was getting brassy, and I don’t like brassy hair. I know that because my veins are blue. I’m supposed to look good in warm tones, but I like the cool tones better.”
“What color would your veins be if they weren’t blue?” I ask with a frown.
“Greenish. If your veins look green, you should wear cool tones,” Millie informs us as we stare at our wrists, trying to figure out if our veins are blue or green.
“I’m sure it’s not an exact science,” I say philosophically. “So, if you like cool tones, go for it. I like it.”
“Speaking of that,” Brielle says, “Did you know that the perfect shade of lipstick for you is the same color as your nipples?”
We blink, stare at each other, and then all three of us lift our shirts to look down at our breasts.
That’s how the guys find us seconds later.
“Are we interrupting something?” Cash asks lazily.
“Apparently,” I say, not looking up at him, “my perfect shade of lipstick is the same shade as my nipples.”
There’s a stunned silence.
“I think you all need to stop drinking the wine,” Jackson says at last.
“It’s true,” Brielle says. “I read it in Cosmo.”
“Well, then, it’s definitely true.” Lucien scoops Millie up and plops her down on his lap. “Let’s go to bed, my beloved.”
“Will you check out my nipples for my perfect lipstick shade?”
“It’s a burden I’m willing to carry.”
“It’s so slow today,” I say with a frown. It’s been a few days since we all settled into Millie and Lucien’s house, and it’s been quiet. Maybe too quiet. “I’m never this slow on a Saturday. It’s just…weird. There’s not even any traffic on the street.”
“Maybe there’s a festival or something going on that has everyone’s interest,” Jackson suggests.
“We’re already past Mardi Gras,” I remind him. “Ah, well, I guess we can use this time to rearrange some things. I need to dust and vacuum the rugs under the furniture. It’ll be a catch-up day.”
I turn to find my dust wand and glance up at the wall of mirrors, then gasp in horror.
“Oh, Goddess.”
“Daph?”
“Oh, hell no. Just go away.”
I’m backing up, but suddenly, Jackson is behind me, his strong arms wrapped around me.
“Talk to me, Daph. What do you see?”
“My father,” I whisper. He’s in every mirror, grinning at me in that horrible way he does, with those awful teeth. But he’s different in every one. In some, he’s laughing. In others, he’s angry. “And none of them are the same. Shit, Jack.”
“I got you,” he says. “Remember the spell Miss Sophia told us to use last night?”
I nod, but I can’t take my eyes off those mirrors.
“What if he comes through?” I ask. Every cell in my body is cold with fear. “What if he can get to me?”
“He can’t,” Jackson assures me. “He can’t hurt you, Daphne. Say the spell with me.”
“I-I-I don’t remember it.”
“Yes, you do. I’ll start, and then you join me, okay?”
“Okay.” I try to take a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Lord and Lady, lend me your might.
Guardians of the watchtowers, make this right.
Ancestors and guides, hear my plea.
Toxic energy there will no longer be.
Evil and darkness be out of my life.
Leave my space with only light.”
We recite the spell over and over again until, finally, he’s gone from every mirror.
I spin in Jack’s arms and cling to him, nauseous and overcome by fear.
“That’s an image I never needed to have in my head.”
“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“What if you weren’t here?” I pull back, just far enough to look up into his face. “What would I have done?”
“You never have to know,” he says simply. “Because I am here, and I’m not going anywhere. I think, for the time being, these mirrors should be covered.”
“Yeah, I agree.”
Suddenly, the nausea is back, so much worse than before, and I know.
I don’t know how, I just do.
“Shit,” I whisper and quickly move to the door.
But rather than a photograph on the stoop, there’s a man.
A body.
Missing his eyes.
I stumble backward, screaming in terror.
I can hear Jackson speaking. Is he talking to me? No, he’s on the phone.
I can’t look away from the dead man on the doorstep.
“Get here. Fast.”
He tosses his phone onto a nearby chair and yanks me to him.
“He was distracting us,” I say into Jackson’s chest. “So he could leave this here.”
“I know.” He strokes his hand down my hair. “I know, baby. They’re on their way. They’ll be here in minutes. They were all at Witches Brew.”
I nod and stare down at him. “I don’t know him.”
Someone slashed his throat. His mouth gapes open. And, like the Polaroids, he’s missing his eyes.
My goddess, why the eyes? It’s so damn fucking creepy.
Jack’s right. The others arrive quickly, and I hear Cash speaking into his phone, already barking out orders.
“Gods,” Lucien says and turns to Millie. “We need to cast a spell so passersby can’t see this.”
“Let’s do it,” Millie says, and I watch as they join hands and cast the circle. They’re beautiful to watch together.
“What happened, exactly?” Cash asks.
We recount everything that happened over the past few minutes. “And then I opened the door and found him. I screamed a lot.”