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  Evie answered with a soft and certain, “bullshit.”

  “You think?” He kept his composure, but his eyes narrowed to cruel slits. He pried open her angry fist and pressed the rose to her palm, curling her fingers tight around the thorny stem. “This is just the way love is, just the way life is. You take chances reaching out for roses, you better be prepared to feel the sting of the thorns.”

  Evie shrugged, pretending a calm she did not feel. “That’s life for boys too then.” She raised her hand and stabbed his shoulder with the sharp stem of the rose.

  He fell back, clutching the wound. Blood leaked out, an angry red against pale skin. Evie pushed past him to the door, but he recovered, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her back. She held on to the rose as she tripped onto the floor. Coins skittered across the room, like a metal explosion.

  He leaned over her, his hands reaching for her skirts. Evie twisted away, swinging the rose like a weapon, but he dodged her swipes, grinning. He yanked to gown to expose her legs.

  She wanted to scream when his flesh touched her flesh. He blocked out the street light, casting her into darkness.

  “Wait!” he shouted the word himself, and sat back, letting light reach her again. It took a few second to remember where she was, remember that he was two sins in one body, and she had to escape. She saw him twist the glass ring off, and he grabbed her free hand and shoved it onto her ring finger. It was too big, and almost slipped off. Given the circumstances Evie couldn’t believe that she curled her hands, managing to stop it.

  He chuckled, a low, disgusting sound. “We have to make this somewhat legitimate. Rings always do the trick.”

  Evie made her body relax. Laid her head back and stared at the ring as if entranced. She held the two sins in her hand, and yet he still believed she was the victim.

  Thinking she was giving up, he leaned down to kiss her lips. She slid her left leg up, planting her knee firmly between his legs. Then she lashed out with the rose, waving it before his face as he fell back. He rolled over and vomited with the pain.

  Evie dragged herself to her feet. It felt as if her legs had disappeared and she was floating out the door and down the stairs. When she reached the street, pins and needles erupted in her feet but she kept going to the edge of the alley though it felt like running on spikes.

  Out on the normal streets of London, the rose and ring turned to mirror glass. Her blood already smeared the piece that had been the rose, and she pressed the two together. They repaired themselves, and Evie collapsed to her knees, the entire night from Lou to Bran falling in on her at once.

  An icy wind whistled through the street and slammed against her, stealing her breath and drying the tears on her cheek, letting her know it still wasn’t over.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Trix hurried towards Evie’s house, trying not to spill her takeout coffee. She took another sip, but the sight of Auran pounding down the street towards her made her dribble it out on her chin. She quickly wiped it with her free hand, drying it on her skirt and hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  “She is not home,” he fumed.

  Trix’s heart dropped through her chest. “What? Lou picked her up from mine last night.”

  Auran raked his hand through his bangs. “I told her to stay with you, did I not?”

  Trix threw her coffee carton in a nearby litterbin. “Lou called after we had some dinner, said she wanted to talk things through.”

  “No one seems to have any sense around here,” he muttered, and began to march towards the High Street.

  Trix followed, jogging to keep pace with him. “Didn’t Lou say what happened?”

  He shrugged. “She didn’t say much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The stupid girl must have gone back to Clandestine.”

  “Why would she have done that?” She grabbed his arm, trying to make him slow and explain what was going on. It was useless, he just kept charging on, dragging her with him. His gold-blonde braids twined down his back like a mass of snakes, and she considered grabbing them to see if he would stop.

  The arrival of a group of strangely tall and thin men in black armour saved her the trouble.

  Auran halted mid-step on seeing them.

  They bowed to him in unison, before one stepped forward. “Highness, an urgent letter from Seelie.”

  “Seelie?” Auran said, snatching the parchment from the knight. He looked younger than Auran, but there was something familiar about him. His hair was a similar colour, though it came only to his shoulders and was spiky in front, giving him a modern look that clashed with his medieval attire. As Auran unfolded the letter Trix saw a look flicker between the two men, a wary understanding.

  The anger in Auran’s eyes faded as he scanned the parchment, softening into something between love and worry. Trix wondered if the letter was from a lover.

  She peered over his shoulder, but the script was alien to her.

  “Have you a pen?” Auran asked, and the knight produced a white feather quill, pulling it from the scabbard at his belt with a small smile.

  Auran scribbled on the back of the letter, and refolded it. “Take this back to the princess. Personally.”

  “Is it bad?” the knight asked, and his voice lowered to whisper. The two men stepped back, distancing themselves from the other knights, who still waited at attention. Trix moved closer to hear them.

  “You must go yourself,” Auran urged. “I cannot come yet, but I hope I shall be free enough when this is through tonight. Tell her I will come.”

  “I will not go. I can be of assistance tonight, if you will let me. Send one of them.” The young knight motioned to the other faeries.

  Auran shoved the parchment into the knight’s chest, giving him no option but to take it back. “I will not send them. You will go where I tell you. You are sworn to serve me.”

  The knight narrowed his eyes. “Highness, I swore to serve you, not abandon you. Why send away the only one of your men who cares what happens to you? Where is the sense in that?”

  Auran pushed the younger man back. “I have no time to stand here arguing with you. I will order you by oath to obey, if I must.”

  “And throw my loyalty in my face.”

  Auran drew back his hand and slapped the knight. It was sudden and violent, and completely unexpected. The others shifted uncomfortably, but Trix thought she saw one give a satisfied smirk. Auran took the parchment back and threw it at the smiling knight, “Take this to Seelie. Deliver it personally into the hands of the princess, and tell her I send my reassurance.”

  The smile slipped from the man’s face, shrinking to a thin-lipped frown. “What use am I to my king tonight in Seelie?” he growled.

  Auran’s hand went to his sword hilt, but the knight did not flinch. “I am your sovereign at this time. The next of you to question me will find himself without a head.” He unsheathed his sword a few inches so the blade caught the morning sunlight. “Now get out of my sight, all of you. This night better run smooth as a sylvan‘s song.”

  The men bowed, then walked away in silence. Auran gripped the youngest one by the arm as he passed. “You better not mess up, or make me regret that I didn’t order you to Seelie. There is no room for foolish mistakes tonight.”

  The boy nodded, looking up into Auran’s face. Trix was alarmed at the admiration in the boys eyes. “Thank you for letting me stay, Auran. I promise I’ll make you proud.”

  Auran released him and he ran on to catch up with the others.

  “This day isn’t going to run smooth at all, is it?” Auran said quietly.

  “What did the princess want?” Trix asked.

  Auran gritted his teeth. “I have no time for that presently. We better find Evie.” He began to hurry towards the High Street.

  * * *

  Auran paced the floor in front of the shop counter. Evie sat on the second floor up, Trix squashed up close beside her. Bran was sitting on top of the counter itself, and he
hadn’t spoken a single word since he and Evie had come back inside and Evie was worried.

  Trix had arrived soon after, Auran storming behind her like an angry thundercloud. He still hadn’t finished ranting.

  “You idiot girl. Surely after the last time you would have been more careful.”

  “Careful. Right Auran, I’ll make sure I’m thinking straight the next time poison’s burning in my stomach.” Evie glared. “He had the apples, they were what I needed. It easily slipped my mind that there was no refuge from the seven evil dwarfs living inside Bran.”

  “Six,” Bran said, his voice quiet. “Three considering you have already defeated half.”

  “But aren’t there seven sins?” Trix asked.

  Bran slid off the counter and jumped down to the floor, “I happen to be one of the evil dwarfs all by myself.” His voice was strained with self-loathing.

  Trix didn’t say anything back. Her gaze drifted to Evie’s torn dress.

  Evie hugged her arms around herself. “How are we supposed to get the shard of mirror that belongs to you? Is it here?”

  “No it remains inside the mirror frame,” Auran said. “The one at your home.” He nodded towards Evie, and Evie’s tongue dried up like an autumn leaf.

  “Shit!” She jumped up. “Lou! That really is what’s wrong, isn’t it? I left that damn mirror with her, and it’s screwed her up.” She went to the door but Auran grabbed her arm.

  “You can’t go back yet, Evie. It’s too dangerous. This is the solstice, when the sun goes down it is free reign for faeries in the mortal realms. Bran will be allowed to go out of this alley from sun down until midnight.”

  Evie yanked her arm from his grip. “All the more reason to go and get Lou out of the way. If Faeries have more power tonight, she’s in even more danger.” She shoved past Auran, but he slipped in front of her and blocked the exit.

  “I can’t let you. Nothing you do is going to break the spell on her yet, and we can’t leave Bran here. Wrath knows his time’s running out. Don’t think he isn’t going to make a move somehow.”

  “He won’t have free reign until the sun goes down,” Evie snapped.

  Auran sighed. “That’s correct Evie, thus it is our duty to deal with Wrath before then. He’s the most dangerous of them all.” He reached behind him and started sliding the iron bolts on the door across. His skin sizzled as he did it, but he made no sign that it affected him. Evie could almost feel the sharp thump as each bolt hit home, like three punches to the gut.

  “Are you suggesting I just abandon my step-mum?”

  Auran finished locking them in. He reached inside his cloak and pulled a pair of gloves out, smoothing them over his burned hands carefully. “You’re the one he’s after, if he kills you the whole thing comes to an end, meaning the King remains sealed, Bran remains cursed and all the work we’ve done so far gets undone. Since you’re the only one he’s going to show himself to, you are the bait and I intend to hunt.” His voice was clipped and impatient, as if speaking to an ignorant child.

  “Duty you said. Our duty? It seems to me that I’ve done most of the goddamn work. I just get plucked from my normal life one day and the next I’m expected to save all these people I hardly know. Not to mention that one of them is a bloody mythological creature!” Evie stepped up close to him, shoving his chest hard. “Get out of my way, you’re not even real.”

  Auran only laughed. “It has all been such a terrible burden, Evie? And you feel nothing for all of us involved? If that’s so, you did a pretty good job of summoning up some lust.”

  Bran appeared from the corner of Evie’s vision. He gripped Auran by his fancy doublet and slammed him back against the bolted shop door. “Don’t talk like that to her,“ he spat. “If you’d have watched her more carefully she wouldn’t have ended up lying on my doorstep in a heap, would she?”

  Auran didn’t make a move to defend himself, he merely glared down into Bran’s eyes and spoke with an infuriating calm. “If she goes back home, she will get hurt. I’m not claiming I’m in this out of the goodness of my heart, faeries are honest creatures, but you should try and make her see some sense for her own good. No one leaves here until I have Wrath’s mirror fragment in my hand. I have my own ends in this. I warn you, don’t start working against me.”

  Trix spoke up for the first time since the brawl began. “Both of you get off your high horses. Evie’s survived this all so far. She isn’t going to be cowered into hiding in the corner just because the world’s got no tower to lock her up in.” She gave Bran a cold look until he let go of Auran and stepped back a few paces.

  Auran straightened his clothes, but didn’t move away from the door. Trix glared at him, but it made no difference.

  “I concede that Evie has indeed come through alive, so far,” he said. “But as her friend I hope you can see the logic in what I am saying here. Her stepmother had been enchanted already. The enchantments won’t stop until this comes to an end.”

  Trix put her hands on her hips. “It’s time we got to work then. You pacing up and down around here lecturing Evie when she’s more than competent is just wasting time.” She spun to face Bran, “And you brooding around all emo isn’t doing anything for morale either.”

  “Emo?” Bran asked.

  Evie couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  “Yes, emo.” Trix didn’t offer any explanation to him. She merely marched towards the stairs, her green and blue gypsy skirts swishing impressively. “Let’s head up into the house to do this, get ourselves armed for showdown if we’re going to go fishing for Wrath.”

  Auran followed her up through the curtain-covered door, leaving Bran and Evie alone in the shop. She dared a glance at Bran’s face, and their gazes locked for a second. He looked away first, shame staining his cheeks red. He inhaled a breath as if to say something, but the silence just hung in the air like a solid wall between them. Then Bran went up the stairs after the others.

  She wished he could see that she was stronger than he thought, strong enough to get through it for both of them, and not be shaken by fear and lies.

  He couldn’t trust himself. She understood how he would find it hard to trust at all. But she knew real unstable men. Men like her father who chopped and changed like the sea on a stormy day. The only thing reliable about him was his unreliability, and there was no good man beneath waiting to be revealed.

  Evie wished she could blame her dad on magic, but she couldn’t. Sometimes reality felt more unnatural than a spell or curse could ever be. And worst of all, reality could never be broken.

  She looked behind her, out of the shop to the alley outside. The sun was up but the snow wasn’t melting, merely glittering with insolence, and warning her things were never as simple as they should be.

  She hadn’t seen Bran when Sloth had dragged her into his coffin, or when Gluttony had stalked her through the banquet hall. Envy and his torture chamber could never be compared to Bran and his paint covered walls. She had kissed Bran. It had been her choice and her desire. Their lips had touched as Evie and Bran, and the rest didn’t change a damn thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Louise knew she could gaze at him forever. She knew she’d never yearn for food and water so long as she could see his face. The mirror never showed her own reflection anymore, it was only Finvarra in his prison tower, whispering about all he would make of her when he was free. She no longer cared to be anything, or anyone. If she could have melted into him she would have.

  A distant part of her remembered other things, things that should have mattered but didn’t. Evie screaming and running. Poison in a glass of water. Images lurked in the back of her mind, illusive and changing. There were words like the lyrics to a song she used to know by heart, but couldn’t quite recall.

  Outside her bedroom the sun was getting lower in the sky. Finvarra was watching it go down, telling her that it was the shortest day of all the year, telling her that Mother Moon would come and get her soon.
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  * * *

  Bran had a considerable collection of iron weapons. Trix stared as he slid a trunk out from under his bed and threw it open. It was a treasure chest of swords, daggers, and miniature crossbows. But instead of being laid out on gold coins they were scattered among hundreds of long and wicked looking iron nails.

  “He’s Bran the Faerie Slayer.” Trix grinned, reaching in and pulling out a dagger with a wavy blade.

  Evie laughed at the joke, but it was lost on the boys. Auran eyed Trix warily, stepping away from the box of arms. “How useful is this going to be?” he asked. “I mean, we can hardly stab him to death when he’s using Bran’s body.”

  “Why not, it would put an end to all of this,” Bran said, taking out another dagger and pressing the blade against his finger. It drew blood easily, and Trix didn’t like the way Bran smiled as he did it.

  “It won’t end it for me. I need you alive to free the King for good. As soon as we get all the mirror shards you can stab yourself as many times as you like.” Auran didn’t sound like he was joking.

  Trix spun around to face him, whipping the dagger up so that it was pointed at his breast, plucking the goldthread dragon that was embroidered on his doublet.

  “Play nice, Prince,” she said, pressing a little harder. His skin hissed beneath his clothes, and he stepped back, pushing her hand to the side.

  “Ouch.” His voice was deadpan, but she thought there was an amused light in his pale eyes. “You never told me you liked a bit of rough play.”

  Trix swung the blade again, but he darted out of her way, laughing.

  “The kitten has claws, please tell me she bites as well.” He darted forward and pulled her hair like a child in a playground.

  Evie and Bran were staring incredulously. Trix backed off, tossing the dagger back in the chest. She fought a blush that tried to steal over her cheeks.

  Auran laughed softly under his breath, obviously finding her embarrassment amusing. He walked to the chest and kicked the lid so it slammed down. “So our goal is to make Bran very angry, but there’s no need to put him in danger. I have my sword here to protect us from Wrath.” He pulled his cloak back to reveal the hilt of the sword hanging at his belt.