JК
A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 123 из 338I was out of time. There was a lump in the glass, not perfect. I leaned into the mirror, pretending to check my nonexistent lipstick, blocking the view.
The first woman had opened a tiny purse and was really fixing her lipstick.
But I wasn't looking at my lips. I was watching that shadowy figure low in the mirror. I could see tiny shadow arms moving, unwrapping my message. I heard a male voice ring like a bell in the room. "Done."
The woman froze in front of the mirror. "Did you hear that?" she asked.
"What?" I asked.
"Julie, did you hear that?"
The other woman still in the stall said, "Hear what?" The toilet flushed, and Julie joined her friend at the sink.
To my horror the shadowy figure started growing larger. He was going to come out of the mirror. He was going to walk out of the freaking mirror. I didn't have enough glamour left in me to cover this. Dammit.
I tried to think of some way to distract the women, when I realized exactly what to do. I crossed the room to the light switch and flipped it off. As the darkness slammed around us like a black wall, I felt the pressure in the room change. I knew someone was crawling through the mirror as if pulling aside a thick crystalline curtain. I swallowed to clear my ears and wondered what to do with the two yelling women.
Chapter 15
I STOOD IN THE DARK, FEELING SOMEONE, SOMETHING MOVING IN THE dark, and knew it wasn't the women, and it wasn't me.
One woman said, "What the hell is going on?"
"Lights are out in the ladies' room," I said.
"Brilliant," the other woman said. "Let's get out of here, Julie." I heard the two of them stumbling toward the door in the dark.
They slid out into the hallway, a flash of brightness against the pitch black, before the door closed behind them.
A wavering yellow-green flame sprang to life in the dark. The flames cast flickering shadows on a dark, dark face.
Doyle's skin wasn't brown—it was black. He looked as if he'd been carved from ebony. His cheekbones were high and sculpted, the chin a little too sharp for my taste. He was all angles and darkness. Those angles looked deceptively delicate, like the bones of a bird, but I'd seen him be hit full in the face with a war hammer once. He'd bled, but he hadn't broken.
The moment I saw him, fear rushed through me in a wave of coldness that left my fingertips tingling. If he hadn't saved my life once already, I'd have been sure he meant my death now. He was the queen's right hand. She would say, "Where is my Darkness? Bring me my Darkness.
The first woman had opened a tiny purse and was really fixing her lipstick.
But I wasn't looking at my lips. I was watching that shadowy figure low in the mirror. I could see tiny shadow arms moving, unwrapping my message. I heard a male voice ring like a bell in the room. "Done."
The woman froze in front of the mirror. "Did you hear that?" she asked.
"What?" I asked.
"Julie, did you hear that?"
The other woman still in the stall said, "Hear what?" The toilet flushed, and Julie joined her friend at the sink.
To my horror the shadowy figure started growing larger. He was going to come out of the mirror. He was going to walk out of the freaking mirror. I didn't have enough glamour left in me to cover this. Dammit.
I tried to think of some way to distract the women, when I realized exactly what to do. I crossed the room to the light switch and flipped it off. As the darkness slammed around us like a black wall, I felt the pressure in the room change. I knew someone was crawling through the mirror as if pulling aside a thick crystalline curtain. I swallowed to clear my ears and wondered what to do with the two yelling women.
Chapter 15
I STOOD IN THE DARK, FEELING SOMEONE, SOMETHING MOVING IN THE dark, and knew it wasn't the women, and it wasn't me.
One woman said, "What the hell is going on?"
"Lights are out in the ladies' room," I said.
"Brilliant," the other woman said. "Let's get out of here, Julie." I heard the two of them stumbling toward the door in the dark.
They slid out into the hallway, a flash of brightness against the pitch black, before the door closed behind them.
A wavering yellow-green flame sprang to life in the dark. The flames cast flickering shadows on a dark, dark face.
Doyle's skin wasn't brown—it was black. He looked as if he'd been carved from ebony. His cheekbones were high and sculpted, the chin a little too sharp for my taste. He was all angles and darkness. Those angles looked deceptively delicate, like the bones of a bird, but I'd seen him be hit full in the face with a war hammer once. He'd bled, but he hadn't broken.
The moment I saw him, fear rushed through me in a wave of coldness that left my fingertips tingling. If he hadn't saved my life once already, I'd have been sure he meant my death now. He was the queen's right hand. She would say, "Where is my Darkness? Bring me my Darkness.