The Midwinter Mirror

Chapter 5

She Thinks I’m Hot

Zayne

Ialways knew there was something dodgy about Silvergate.

Now I know what that is. There’s a fucking mirror there. It’s hidden, but the hum in the air is unmistakable. Mirror magic.

But this is bad news. It means Tansy could be anywhere. I mean any-fucking-where. On another world. I already failed her once by walking away—I thought I had no choice. But there’s always a choice. Now she’s out there, probably lost and scared, and I’m failing her again.

But why? What would someone want with the children?

Shit, I have a bad feeling—a really bad feeling—about this.

And right now, I have no fucking clue what to do about it.

Josh might have ideas. He always does, since that blast of mirror magic changed him.

I need to talk to him. Fast. Because I can’t stop the sense of urgency eating away at me.

So, someone lured the children inside the mirror.

And I’m guessing it’s the same someone who murdered my mother five years ago.

With that thought, something deep inside me loosens its grip.

While I’ve always denied that my father killed her, there’s always been a little inkling of doubt.

Because Holly was there and she claimed she saw no one except my dad—ergo he must be the killer.

Or that’s the conclusion everyone jumped to.

But maybe Holly saw something that couldn’t be explained by logic, so she somehow convinced herself it couldn’t have been real. She’s always had an almost pathological denial of anything magical.

Holly’s hand grips my arm, and I pull myself away from my thoughts. The snow’s falling heavier now, blinding me—swallowing the path and the world beyond it. Beside me, Holly stumbles, only managing to stay upright because of her hand on my arm. She swears under her breath. She’s struggling.

I suppose I could shift and fly her home, but something tells me she’s not quite ready to meet Raze just yet.

She might never be ready.

I peer through the thick, almost impenetrable curtain of snow and see nothing but more snow.

The wind has risen as well, blowing the snow into our faces.

For a moment, panic grips me. People have died in storms like these.

I might have to shift after all. But then the snow clears for a moment, and I can just make out the shadowy shape of a half-ruined shepherd’s hut ahead.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder and guide her there.

It’s just crumbling walls and a roof, and a gaping doorway without a door.

But it’s good enough to keep us from freezing while we wait out the worst of the storm.

I hate waiting.

I squeeze her shoulder as I hustle her inside, then follow her into the single room. A flagged floor, cracked stone walls, and a roof with too many gaps. But it’s drier than outside, and it cuts the wind. Good enough.

“I used to come here and drink cider on a Friday night after your dad paid me,” I say to Holly.

She shakes off the snow, pulls off her hat, and her silver-blonde hair falls to her shoulders. She’s grown into a beautiful woman. “You never invited me,” she says.

“A princess drinking cider? I don’t think so. And I couldn’t afford champagne.”

The storm howls outside, but underneath it, I feel something else. A low thrum in the stone. More magic.

When I was growing up in Elderfell, I thought everybody here was crazy, the way they talked about the myths and magic as though they were real. I thought they’d been infected by the water or something. But it wasn’t the water.

There’s magic everywhere here.

Maybe some places are just like that—they draw the darkness to them. And this place hums with it. Dark, heavy. My gut twists. If I don’t move fast, I’ll likely never see Tansy again.

“I’ve been past here so many times but never came inside,” Holly says.

“Not a lot of point unless you want somewhere private to drink your cider. I guess it was an old shepherd’s hut back when there were sheep running on the moors up here.

It hasn’t been used in as long as I can remember.

Anyway, it looks like we’re stuck here until the snow stops falling.

You don’t want to be outside in a storm like this one. ”

She presses her lips together and looks away. “I know.”

The words hold a world of sadness. And I remember—her brother Oliver.

He went out in a storm, one much like this.

I’d been at the manor that night. It was Holly’s birthday party.

The snow had started to fall as it got dark and kept falling.

Oliver had been crazy to go out in that.

Something had driven him toward Silvergate.

Holly had never really gotten over it. She’d been the one to find him.

It’s strange how often she seems to stumble upon things happening at Silvergate.

In my mind, I see a flash of bright crimson against the snow. And I push the memory away. But I know that’s why her grief cuts so deep because it mirrors mine. We’ve both lost people we love, and now all I can think is Tansy, Tansy, Tansy.

I head further into the room, away from the storm, and lean against the wall, folding my arms across my chest as I let myself study her.

Warmth wraps itself around my heart. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her—my best friend, my first kiss.

.. my first grope. I grin at the memory. We’d learned so much together.

I stare at her lips, and her cheeks go pink as though she knows what I’m thinking. We gaze at each other for a long time, some feeling building between us. I give myself a shake. “So what have you been up to?” I ask, breaking the tension between us.

“I’m studying to be a vet,” she replies.

“I’m glad. It was what you wanted to do. Where do you go to college?”

“London.”

I snort. “As far away from Elderfell as you can possibly get. My foster sister was going to college in London before…” I trail off. I’m not sure how to explain where Amber has gone.

“You have a foster sister as well?”

“Had. Yeah—Amber. She’s great, though she never got to London—hooked up with this asshole instead, and they’ve gone…travelling.”

“I’m glad you found a family.”

“Me too.”

“And maybe she’ll come back and go to London. We could meet up—tell each other stories about you.”

“I shudder at the thought. But you’d like her—she was a total princess as well.”

She snorts. “Anyway, she’s missing out. I love London. It’s a different world, a different life, and I’m doing what I always wanted to do.”

Holly has always had an affinity for animals. She reminds me of Amber in that way as well. In fact, thinking about it, she reminds me of Amber in a lot of ways.

“What about you?” she asks. “What have you been up to? Where have you been living?”

“Just a little bit south of here. Not that far.”

“Your brother must still be in the foster system. What is he, eight or nine?”

“Nearly nine. And yeah—he’s in the system, but our foster parents were super crappy, so I’ve been looking out for him,” I say.

“You need to be careful. You could get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry, we’re good.” I don’t think now is the time to go into our current living arrangements. I don’t think Holly would actually understand them. I’d love to tell her about Valandria one day, but let’s get this mess with the children sorted out first.

Holly moves around the room, trailing her hands over the stones, and the hum of magic rises. She seems oblivious. Except she presses two fingers between her eyes as though to ease a pressure. So maybe she senses something.

I frown. “Can you feel that?”

She turns around to look at me. “Feel what?”

“A hum, a vibration in the air.”

She blinks and her face goes still. “You’re not still on about magic, are you? I don’t need this right now, Zayne. I need you to help me. I need you to be strong. We have to find the children and talking that sort of rubbish won’t help.”

For the first time, it occurs to me that Holly’s disbelief in magic goes way beyond normal skepticism.

It’s like she has a mental block: Magic doesn’t exist. Magic can’t exist. Maybe it was something to do with Oliver.

But it was there before then, for as long as I can remember.

We used to talk about leaving Elderfell and all the stupid mumbo-jumbo behind.

“Okay, we won’t talk about it now,” I say. “So what do you want to talk about?”

She looks at me speculatively. “You. I want to talk about you. You’ve changed, Zayne. I mean, I know it’s been five years, so of course you’ve changed—but you’re so different.” She studies me again, her head cocked to one side, and I smirk.

“Like what you see?” I ask.

“You wish. I was going to say the wildness has gone, but it hasn’t. It’s still there, maybe more so than ever. But it’s like you’ve got it under control. Like you’ve come to terms with what you are. There’s just a strength about you now.”

I shrug. “Come on, princess. You’re going to make me blush.”

She laughs. “Yeah, of course I am. But really, Zayne, what’s happened to you?”

I feel Raze wake up inside me and preen. I shrug again. “Maybe it was just getting away from Elderfell. Maybe I needed space to see things clearly.”

“And maybe you’re talking bullshit and just don’t want to tell me what you’ve been up to.”

I smirk again. “Maybe. Maybe you’re not ready to hear it yet.”

She snorts. “So, do you have a girlfriend?”

“I’ve had one or two.”

“And have you ever been in love?”

“What is this—twenty questions about my love life?” I pause, then say, “I thought so, once.” Twice, actually, but Amber had quickly stamped that idea out. And she was right. “I was wrong.”

I look away, remembering Winter. She’d been my first proper girlfriend and had betrayed us—and died for it. And then there was Laura. The werewolf. No, best not go there either.

A shiver runs through Holly, and she pulls her coat tighter around her shoulders.

I push myself off the wall and walk towards her.

Then I step close, wrap my arms around her, and pull her against me.

She rests her head on my chest. I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive her—I might never be, but god, this feels right. ..

She shivers again, and I hold her closer, and she settles against me for a minute. “Gosh, you’re hot,” she murmurs against my chest.

I chuckle against her. “I’m glad you noticed.” It’s my shifter blood.

“Not that sort of hot.” She pulls back and punches me in the shoulder. “Radiator-hot.” Then she takes another step back. She looks a little flustered. “Thanks,” she mutters. “I needed a hug. It’s been a tough morning. My mum—” She trails off.

“Your mum what?”

“She just said these things about the snow taking Milo, and her baby, and the Hunt, and it all brought back everything about Oliver. I’ve been trying not to think about him. I mean, it’s not the same, not at all.”

I go still. My gut twists because I know that guilt.

The kind that never lets go. Tansy’s face flashes in my head—her laugh, her little hand gripping mine.

What if she’s already gone? What if she’s out there dying while I waste time hiding from the snow?

I take a deep breath. “No, it’s not the same.

We’ll find them. You have to have faith. ”

She peers up at me. “I’m glad you’re back.” Then she sniffs. “Even if you’re not staying.”

“Come on, princess. You’re not staying either. You got the hell away from this place as fast as you could.”

“I know, but I didn’t break off all the ties.”

“I had to, you know that. I couldn’t—” I don’t want to relive those feelings.

For a long time, I thought that maybe I was insane as well.

I had all this anger inside me, just like my dad.

And now something occurs to me: I became a shifter after I was bitten by the shadowguard—Lucifer’s army of twisted monsters.

But that was only because I had Astrali blood inside me.

Raze was already there, deep inside me. And if I have Astrali blood, then maybe my dad did as well.

Maybe his anger issues stemmed from having a beast inside him that had nowhere to go.

And he had to live with that all his life until it became too much…

“Hey,” she says. “Don’t look so sad.”

I give myself a shake. “I’m not sad. I’m worried. But you know, despite all this, it’s good to see you, Holly.”

She blinks. “Really? I mean, I know you must hate me for what I said, but Zayne, I—”

“Drop it, princess. We have enough to worry about without dragging up the past.”

“But—”

“Hush. I don’t hate you.” For a while, I thought I did, but I know now that I could never hate her.

Her mouth curves into a small smile. Then she puts her hands on my shoulders, stands on tiptoes, and for long moments, she stares into my eyes.

I stare back. Hers are pale, like ice—she’s my snow queen.

I’d never thought that before, but she fits here among the snow: silver hair and silver eyes, pale skin.

I drop my gaze from her eyes to her lips. They part slightly, and I see her breath misting in the cold air. I lower my head, slow, certain. I’m going to kiss her. My heart stutters—slows, then kicks hard. Panic grips me. What if she hates it? What if—

As if impatient with my bullshit, she slides a hand around my neck and yanks me down, closing the last inches.

And as our lips touch, the world steadies.

Rightness floods through me, burning away the fear.

Heat pours through my blood, and I lift my hands to cup her cheeks, tilting her face so I can deepen the kiss.

Her lips part under mine, and my tongue slides inside.

She tastes of coffee and cinnamon—sweet, warm, addictive. I could stay here forever, lost in her.

But then she stiffens, the spell shattering. I pull back slowly.

Her eyes are wide, panicked. She blinks, shakes her head, swallows. “I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s too soon, or maybe that’s not it. I don’t know you anymore.”

“You know me, princess.” The word tastes bitter and sweet all at once. I sigh. “But I can wait. That’s something else I’ve learned how to do.” I shrug. “Don’t look so worried. It’s not as though it’s the first time we’ve kissed.”

That last year, we’d kissed every opportunity we got. It sometimes seemed we could spend hours just kissing. Though we never did much more. Like we knew we weren't ready for more. Or maybe we knew, even as kids, that sex would change everything, and we didn’t want things to change.

They changed anyway.

She searches my face, then gives a nod. “I think the snow is slowing down.”

I turn to look out of the doorway, and she’s right.

Time to get back to reality.