Shadowglass - The Shadowfae Chronicles Part 4

Stealthy, I craned my neck forward and peeked inside.

My big amber eye stared back at me, magnified. I blinked, and the big eye blinked, too, ash flecks huge and fluffy on my inflated lashes. I tilted the gla.s.s, and there was my nose, even huger and sharper and more crooked than in real life.

I giggled. Soft metallic laughter rippled around the room in response, and warm invisible fingers tickled the back of my neck.

"Whoa." I squinted, suspicious, but the mirror remained silent.

Curiosity and envy scratched inside me like sandpaper. Such a pretty thing. And so peculiar. Ohh, couldn't I just . . . ?

The thought hung in the air like a seductive scent. Behind me, rushing water ceased. I hesitated, itching.

Stay here, Kane finds me going through his stuff and magicks me into a h.e.l.lsp.a.w.ned newt. Or swipe the pretty shiny thing and run before he knows it's gone.

Common sense cleared its stern throat at me. Ice, are you crazy? Kane paid Indigo to steal this, and Indigo doesn't work cheap. It's important, whatever it is. Kane'll come after you, and he'll make h.e.l.lsp.a.w.ned newt seem like chocolate ice cream. Ice, are you crazy? Kane paid Indigo to steal this, and Indigo doesn't work cheap. It's important, whatever it is. Kane'll come after you, and he'll make h.e.l.lsp.a.w.ned newt seem like chocolate ice cream.

I shivered, and started to put the hideous thing down.

-Take me.- That seductive whisper again, heady with the smell of iron. That seductive whisper again, heady with the smell of iron.

I halted.

-Take me, Ice. I'm only small. He'll never know. Be my friend?- The gla.s.s winked at me, bright and precious in golden downlights, and irrational longing pierced my heart like a blade. The gla.s.s winked at me, bright and precious in golden downlights, and irrational longing pierced my heart like a blade.

Just a shiny of no importance. Kane can get his own. This one's mine. Kane can get his own. This one's mine.

My heart warmed. After tonight, I'd earned it.

And what harm ever came from something shiny?

I squeezed, and the iron petals snapped shut, seamless. Already I mourned the lost shimmer of gla.s.s. I patted the sphere carefully and stuffed it into my bag. "Bye, squidgy. See you soon." And I ran, jumped, and skidded on bare feet across the mahogany floor toward the door.

The early morning tram to the city already teemed with commuters clutching briefcases and wheeled doc.u.ment cases and bags stuffed with gym clothing. The hot yellow sun climbed rapidly to bake storm-fresh streets, and as usual, the tram's air-con was cranked up to the max. I shivered and tried to find a seat to myself, but I ended up standing at the back, clutching the little plastic handles that hang from the ceiling.

My glamour is okay, but when you're flush up against some pasty office worker, it's hard to hide wings. Some fairies-like Blaze, of course, that gifted little s.h.i.t can do everything, and no, I'm not jealous at all-some fairies can make humans forget what they see, so it doesn't matter. Others like Azure dazzle with their beauty. I'm not so lucky. People think it's easy, being fae, living in a shadow world. They should try a revolving door, or buying clothes that fit, or the dodge I have to do when some glamourblind guy slips his arm around me at the Court.

I also stank, and my glamour couldn't hide that. I was smeared in sweat and my own arousal before I even saw Kane. Now I was caked in it. Water, spit, vodka, demon come, you name it, adding up to a curious earthy reek that no one would mistake for the latest fragrance. I really needed a shower, and I almost regretted not giving Kane that last b.l.o.w. .j.o.b.

So I stood and held the plastic handle like I needed it for balance, and tried not to stretch my aching wings too much. In my bag, my new not-mirror rolled and whispered, content. Home, shower, bed. No gypsy scam today. We'd scored big last night, and even though I'd spent most of my share on booze, we still had the loot to sell this afternoon. It wasn't half what we owed, but it might keep Sonny Valenti and his charming Mafia bloodsuckers off our backs for a while. Happy days.

A human girl b.u.mped into me, tilting on patent leather heels. d.a.m.n it. I lurched back, but too late. Her flowery perfume hit my nostrils, and water molecules spread, tingling like a sneeze. My eyesight dimmed, images flooding like stormwater. Glitzy soirees in glossy Yarrabank apartments, luncheon at Flemington racetrack, expensive dinners in gla.s.sy rooftop restaurants. Days spent gossiping, flipping through magazines, sunbaking with c.o.c.ktails by the pool, a glittering diamond ring, a warm and lucky boy who worships her.

She murmured an apology and sidled away, and my ears popped, the tram hovering back into focus. Envy stung my wings. Humans have everything.

It's a talent of mine I don't talk about, this witchy trick with human smells. I'm just thankful it doesn't work on my friends. I don't wanna know what they really think of me.

Across from me, a guy in a cheap black suit clutched a worn briefcase, white earphone buds dangling unused around his neck, dark hair artfully spiked. Smudges circled his eyes, his mouth tight and weary in his pale face. Even over my eau-de-s.l.u.tgirl, I could smell boredom.

He slid a scornful glance over me, his lip twisting, and resentment soured my mouth at his disdain. Just some lousy office worker. Who did he think he was, looking at me like dirt? At least I had ambition, even if the object of my desire was unattainable. If I had any guts, I'd snark this guy raw.

I swallowed bitter indignation and looked away.

A cold metal whisper slithered into my mind.-What an a.s.shole. Why don't you tell him what you think of him?- I snorted. Good idea, squidgy. Wish I had the courage. People with jobs they hate make me sick. Good idea, squidgy. Wish I had the courage. People with jobs they hate make me sick.

He stared, incredulous. "What did you say?"

My cheeks sizzled. Did I say that aloud? Did I say that aloud?

-Might as well make the best of it,-the squidgy whispered.

I shrugged, emboldened. "I said, who are you trying to impress, getting to work at six in the morning?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Didn't you get laid last night? Don't you have a better a.s.s to kiss than your boss's?"

His brow creased, and my guts churned. I couldn't believe I said that. Guess I was still drunk. But that snarky mirror murmured gla.s.sy rebellion in my ear, and the jagged urge to taunt him chewed at me like teeth. I couldn't stop. "Advice, loser. You ain't never gonna get rich opening up. You really want to impress your boss, get under the desk and suck him off."

Another fat suit across from him m.u.f.fled a laugh. My stomach hollowed. Now I'd done it. Lip like that'd get me punched in the face, or worse.

The loser gripped his case tightly and rose. "Yeah. I can see that approach has worked for you, career girl. Nice come stain, by the way. Very cla.s.sy."

I clutched the bag closer, my palms slipping. The not-mirror cooed, comforting.-He deserves it. You've taken enough s.h.i.t from his sort over the years. Time to give some back.- He stalked off to find another seat, and the fat guy laughed again, greasy gla.s.ses twinkling in bright sun. "Baby, I like your style. You can work for me any time."

"f.u.c.k off, gonzo." Embarra.s.sment sizzled my fingerpads blue, and I turned to face the window before the squidgy made me say anything else. I squeezed the handle tightly, my insides hot and watery. Everyone was staring at me, I knew it, their disapproval tainting the air, and I squirmed, my glamour shifting in discomfort.

For all I knew, Loser had three kids and a 15 percent mortgage. I still resented his att.i.tude. But what possessed me to attack him like that? First thing in the morning, in front of a tram full of strangers? He hadn't done anything to me, not really.

Gentle metal comfort clucked from the depths of my bag, and I scowled, unconvinced. Still wasted. That had to be it. Either that, or Kane really had screwed my brains out.

A giggle splurted up into my throat, and I had to plaster my hand over my mouth to keep it in.

The three stops until my transfer dragged for what felt like hours, and I slunk to the automatic doors with the fat guy's eyes glued to my grimy a.s.s and my gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

Federation Square, where seagulls dipped and swerved, and sun shone brightly on the green metal-framed facade of the film museum. Workers grabbed early coffees from fragrant black cafes. A greasy black spriggan in a trench coat crab-walked between rubbish bins, picking out cigarette b.u.t.ts and half-eaten sandwiches with gnarled yellow claws. A grinning firefairy clung to a pa.s.sing tram's roof, wings trailing flames in the breeze, cackling in delight as sparks rolled over her naked back.

My tram came, and I shambled on, half-asleep and headachy. I wanted my bed, warm and comforting and alone, where no one could hurt me or laugh at me.

The mirror burbled to me as we swayed along clicking tracks, my bag vibrating alarmingly under my palm. Secretly, I supposed it was kinda cool. I wanted to take it out, admire the gla.s.s shining in the sun, peek inside and see what I could see. But I didn't dare, not here, after what it maybe made me say.

But I remembered the disbelieving look on that guy's face, and a naughty smile flavored my lips. Yeah, that was kinda cool, too. I patted my bag absently. Crafty, clever little squidgy. We'll be friends. Crafty, clever little squidgy. We'll be friends.

-Mmm,- the mirror whispered, and I smiled to myself and daydreamed the rest of the way to my stop, of a new and delicious world where I said what I wanted and wasn't scared anymore. the mirror whispered, and I smiled to myself and daydreamed the rest of the way to my stop, of a new and delicious world where I said what I wanted and wasn't scared anymore.

Swanston Street, gla.s.s skysc.r.a.pers and retail cantilevers giving way to dirty office buildings and car parks, the university, my suburb with its bluestone gutters and cracked pavements and broken-down student houses. I drifted off the tram and flitted the last few blocks in a daze, blinking in the sunlight, my bare feet stinging on rough concrete.

I tumbled the squidgy over in my hands as I dawdled. Sunlight glinted on scratches in the rust, and underneath it showed all silvery and nice. I stroked it, and the thing inside purred. "So, squidgy, what exactly are you?"

-I'm you. We're us. You're me.- The voice chimed pleasantly, like bells or rushing water. The voice chimed pleasantly, like bells or rushing water.

"Okay, so that didn't make sense. Who's in there? Are you a boy or a girl? How come you're telling me all these weird things to say? I mean, it's brave and cool and awesome of you. But-"

-I want us to be happy.- The squidgy rolled anxiously, caressing my fingers.- The squidgy rolled anxiously, caressing my fingers.-Be my friend. Please. Don't break my heart.- "Okay, okay. Don't twist your knickers. Here's home. You like it?"

Our squat, a moldy white weatherboard, dirt where the lawn should be, a broken veranda with a dusty couch and a few dead potted plants, front window broken and boarded, magpies squawking on the rusty gutters.

We're not proud. We like it here. Why spend money on rent when you can party? Besides, we owe most of what we make to the Valenti clan. In the middle of an ongoing gang war, protection doesn't come cheap, even for a two-bit con like ours. Should've asked Kane to put in a good word for me with Sonny V.

Sure. Kane had probably already forgotten I existed. Probably did a different girl every night, trying to forget about his weird-a.s.s girlfriend.

I flapped up onto the creaking porch, slipping the not-mirror back in my bag. Stale heat dried my lungs as I staggered into the lounge. No air-conditioning, and we swung from the ceiling fans and broke them long ago. Jewelry, crumpled cash, and broken gla.s.s littered the thin carpet, yesterday's spoils. Crusty yellow custard splashed the peeling green wallpaper and the TV screen, and our big orange beanbag was speckled with mashed jelly beans and popcorn. We'd had a bit of a party before we went out. No doubt Blaze would cheat at paper, scissors, rock and I'd end up cleaning again.

The mirror snorted.-Tell him to clean up his own custard. Just 'cause you're a girl doesn't mean you do housework, right?- Yeah. Try telling Blaze that. He tries to be a New Age guy-he cleans his teeth and wears eye shadow and everything-but he's got that convenient boy gene that just doesn't see the mess, even when he put it there.

Ladylike snoring rattled from Azure's doorway, and I stuck my head in to see her tucked happily in bed, green hair brushed, wings clean and neatly folded under the quilt.

Affection warmed me. No doubt she'd made sweet, safe, sober love to a clean, respectable fae boy in his nice clean house, slipped out of bed (yeah, Ice, bed bed -not over the couch or up against the door -not over the couch or up against the door) despite his protests and showered before she came home. Before daylight. With all her clothes intact. By taxi, because she hadn't spent all her cash getting plastered. Without making a d.i.c.khead of herself, insulting some random guy on the way.

I looked down at my stained clothes, the blue bruises blotting my arms from harsh demon fingers, the stinky shimmer wafting from my skin. Weary envy tugged at my blood. Some girls have cla.s.s, Ice. You're not one of them. Some girls have cla.s.s, Ice. You're not one of them.

I tossed my bag into my doorway and pa.s.sed Blaze's match-scented room without looking in. He wouldn't be there. If he got home before lunchtime, it'd be a first. So many besotted girls, so little time.

I stumbled into the stuffy gray bathroom and peeled off my clothes. Blaze had squirted shampoo all over the tiles again, and scarlet hair clogged the drain. I fumbled the tap on and leaned my head on my forearm, letting lukewarm water slide over me until I drifted asleep and woke up with a jerk. Water off, find a towel, make an effort at drying myself, stagger naked back to my room with an aching head and stinging eyes.

My room, torn lace curtains, silk flowers, and Kevin, my gla.s.s-eyed teddy bear, on the bedside table. My bed looked wonderful, the crumpled feather quilt inviting in its rainbow cover. I didn't even bother to shut the window to keep the magpie noise out. I fell into the quilt facefirst, the pillow soft and sugar-scented, dripping green hair cool on my back. Diamonds clinked gently on my wrists, comforting. The not-mirror rolled out of my bag, singing a sweet metal lullaby, and I cradled it in my hand as I dozed off.

My life. Take it or leave it. There's more than this, but I'll never see it. I'm just a silly fae girl. Not a person, with a job or a family or a life. A foolish, scared, useless fairy girl with aspirations beyond her means. Fancy that.

I fell asleep dreaming, of thieving a h.e.l.lburnt demon's cave where the air stinks of pain and fire, my companion a deep blue shadow with warm copper claws. Dread thickens the air like hot fog, but I'm not scared. We creep hand in quivering hand over black blood-scorched earth, so stealthy past slumbering sharp-scaled h.e.l.l-sp.a.w.n, drifting over hidden trip wires and spike-riddled traps with a flutter of warm silver wings. The treasure chest is rusted, the lock trapped with poison. We steal the mirror in a shower of black sparks and flee. He wraps velvet blue arms around me, brushing his soft wings against mine, and the lips that burn my mouth taste of iron.

5.

Feather-light kisses dusted the small of my back, and I groaned in deliciousness, rubbing my cheek into the soft pillow. I'm naked in his bed, and he'll kiss me all over with that sinful silver-blue mouth, kiss me until my wing tips curl and my nipples spring tight and my legs melt like hot caramel, and then he'll climb onto my back and slide inside me, deep and slow, and he'll crush my fingers on the sheet and lick between my wing joints while we make love.

Gentle pleasure built and broke in my belly, and I shuddered and groaned in delight.

Naughty fingers yanked knots into my hair. I snapped awake, warm honey sensation slipping away. Red sparks showered onto my pillow from a low giggle, and the smell of matches tickled my nose.

Did I just come in my sleep? d.a.m.n it. I sighed, burying my face in iron-scented warmth, but too late. Hot midday sunlight cracked between my eyelids, and the dream broke. "Get lost, Blaze. I'm asleep." I sighed, burying my face in iron-scented warmth, but too late. Hot midday sunlight cracked between my eyelids, and the dream broke. "Get lost, Blaze. I'm asleep."

"I'm bored. Wake up." The mattress dipped, and curious claws scratched at my knuckles. "What's this?"

Warning clanged. My squidgy. Mine. My squidgy. Mine.

I jerked up and tugged the sweaty sheet around me, pulling the squidgy away. "Mine. You can't see it. Get your own."

He grinned, sleepy-eyed, scarlet hair sticky in the heat. Still dressed in skin-tight leather and pirate velvet, only he smelled of girly perfume, light and flowery. A fetching yellow bruise adorned his narrow chin, and he'd lost an earring.

-He's cute,- the squidgy observed helpfully. the squidgy observed helpfully.

I squinted. "Where you been, naughty boy?"

"d.a.m.ned if I know. I woke up beside my clothes in an elevator, there's chocolate in my hair, and my d.i.c.k hurts. Musta had a good night."

He ruffled his sparking hair, and the squidgy giggled. -Ooh, he's really cute.- -Ooh, he's really cute.- I giggled, too. Squidgy's a girl after all. "You're such a wh.o.r.e, Blaze."

"Someone's gotta do it. You stink. Where've you been?"

Nowhere. Doesn't matter. It's boring. You wouldn't be interested.

The cowardly words floated on my lips, but the sleepy mirror clicked its tongue at me.-Why are you ashamed? Be proud. Tell the truth. You really care what people think?- Right. Yeah. Of course not. I fluffed my bedraggled hair, n.o.ble. "Why, with a demon lord, since you ask." I fluffed my bedraggled hair, n.o.ble. "Why, with a demon lord, since you ask."

The squidgy laughed, and warm pleasure spread in my blood, unexpected. So that's what truth feels like. So that's what truth feels like.

Blaze laughed, and smacked a kiss on my cheek. "No s.h.i.t. How was it?"

His lips felt strange, soft and sugary, not burnt like Kane's or rusted and mysterious like my dream lover's. I grinned. "Weird. Excruciating. I came about eight times. Wanna know how we did it?"

Blaze winked, and slunk crafty white fingers across my hip toward the mirror. "So was it twue wuv? Didya get his phone number?"

I squirmed away, and he followed, burrowing after me under the quilt in a flurry of crimson wings. He rubbed his head on my shoulder like a cat in our warm rainbow-stained shelter, and I giggled. "No. But I did get this."

I held it up and squeezed, and the petals sprang open. My mirror glinted at me, and I grinned back. "h.e.l.lo, squidgy."

-Well, h.e.l.lo.- Slinky, like a hungry cat. Slinky, like a hungry cat.

Blaze craned his neck and peered inside, and his dark eyes shimmered. "Oh, that's nice, Icy. Lemme see." His voice took on that seductive gleam that gives me shivers in all the wrong places, and he stretched out his hand.

I rolled away, teasing, cuddling the squidgy to my chest. "No. It's mine. You'll just break it."

"No, I won't. Give." He scrabbled for my rib cage and tickled, claws and all.

"Ah! Stop it!" My skin twitched all over, my wings jerking helplessly. I shrieked laughter and squirmed, but the quilt trapped me and I folded against his body, kicking and beating at him with my wings as I held the spiky mirror tighter to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He felt hard, supple, clever against my back. Good, in fact. Really good. His hot smell of woodflame licked me, creeping inside my mouth. My throat tightened. "Let go, you brute. Get off me. d.a.m.n, you smell fantastic."

Oops. That one just slipped out. A little too much truth. The mirror giggled, and I flushed, hot water burning through my skin. G.o.d, if I'd just flooded in his lap, I'd kill myself.

But he just laughed and rolled me over toward him, trapping my wings under me so I couldn't move. His sultry black gaze drifted over my chest, not at all innocent. "Yeah? Wanna taste me, too?"

The mirror laughed, sharp.-Oh, yes. Yes, we do.- Oh, no, we don't.

With a fresh flush, I remembered I was naked. He'd seen me enough times, at the beach in winter, or between the shower and my bedroom, or that time when some fairy-hating sc.u.mbags wired me to a streetlamp and ripped my dress off. But this was different. Those were my b.r.e.a.s.t.s he was staring at, my skin all damp and blue with excitement. Naughty, h.o.r.n.y little fae girl. I laughed uneasily and pushed at him, trying to pretend my nipples weren't scrunched so tight, they hurt. "Get your hand off it, Blaze. You're not serious."

"Why not? You were." He circled my wrists one by one and forced them over my head.