Zelda dropped into the chair. “That must be why I feel so tired all of a sudden.”
I turned to Cornelius. “How did you know that wasn’t Zelda before?”
He shrugged. “I saw something similar done once when I was still a lad visiting my grandmother in Louisiana. There’s a sheen to the skin when entities project themselves in such form. Almost like a pearlescent glisten when you look closely.”
That was exactly what had made me reach out to touch Prudence’s face right before she scared the ever-lovin’ daylights out of me.
“I noticed the glisten when she handed me my milk,” he continued. “But it took me a moment to remember where and when I’d seen it before.”
Doc returned to my side. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t hurt your neck or anything?”
“I don’t think so.” I stretched it side to side, not feeling any stiffness. I peeked back at my butt. There was a thin coating of glaze on my yoga pants. I tried to brush it off, but some of it was smeared into the fabric. “I’m good and sticky, though,” I said to him, wiping my fingers on my leg.
“And sweet,” he added quietly. The wicked glint in his eyes made my heart skip a couple of beats.
“Prudence wants to know where you found that mirror,” Zelda said, leaning back in the chair and resting her arm on her head. “She’d also like you to try to answer without using such vulgar language, but she’s not sure you’re capable of constructing a sentence without using profanity.”
I bit back a very vulgar and profane reply and grabbed my family’s hand-me-down from where Doc had left it by the couch. “This mirror has been passed down through my line for many generations.” I held it up for Zelda and Prudence, wherever she was, to see. “It’s why I came to see you both today. I need Prudence’s help with how to use it.”
Zelda looked to the side for a moment, as if in thought, but I knew better. Prudence was chatting in her ear. I wondered why Cornelius couldn’t hear it. Maybe this was another case of Prudence controlling who she wanted to hear or see her. Or maybe she was speaking directly into Zelda’s mind so Cornelius couldn’t hear her.
Jeez, this medium business was like flying through a hurricane with no radar. I had to go with my gut most days, and my gut was scared shitless half the time, curled up in a ball under the bed. How had Doc stayed sane all of these years while trying to manage a regular life along with his abilities?
Zelda nodded and then focused on me. “Prudence wonders why you don’t know how to use your own mirror.”
I ignored the condescending attitude underlying that question. “Tell her there were no instructions given to me. All I know is that there are tiny bits of ruby and quartz mixed into the mirror, possibly for protection and empowerment, and that the symbols on the frame are most likely alchemy-based.”
Zelda’s gaze lifted to the ceiling for a few beats before returning to me. “She asked if you’ve looked into the mirror, and if so, what have you seen?”
Was that a trick question? “Of course, I’ve looked in it.”
I stared at the mirror, seeing my fading black eye and wrinkled brow. My hair was a bit of a mess, too. I plucked a crumb from it that had probably dropped from Harvey’s beard when I landed at his feet.
To Zelda, I said, “I see myself in it, same as any other mirror.”
Zelda nodded at my answer, and then one eyebrow lifted. “Hmm. Prudence says that you’re probably not looking at it the right way.”
“There’s a wrong way to look into a mirror?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my tone.
Doc cleared his throat, reminding me to try harder.
“Prudence warns that you have to be careful with special mirrors like yours. You don’t know what might be looking out at you while you’re staring into the glass.”
That gave me goose bumps. How many times had I looked into this mirror to check my hair or teeth? When I was young, I often smiled at the curly-haired blond girl looking back at me. Had there been something in there watching me all of this time? I turned the mirror toward Cooper so whatever might be playing Peeping Tom could gaze at him for a bit.
He noticed my plan and shot me a knock-it-off scowl.
“Prudence claims to have seen a mirror similar to yours used twice before—once when she was a child, and then again when she was not yet twenty.”
Before I could ask about what happened, Zelda held up her index finger. “Hold on, she’s going to tell me both stories.”
While I waited for Zelda to listen to Prudence’s answer, I exchanged furrowed brows and shrugs with Doc and Harvey. Cornelius was too busy playing with his lucky cannon—which I’d learned long ago that he carried everywhere—to look up at me. Cooper, meanwhile, just frowned at everyone, including his watch. He must be in a rush to return to the mountain of paperwork he often complained about when he wasn’t blaming me for it.
Finally, Zelda winced, sucking air between her teeth. “Oh my. She says that the first time she saw one used, the slayer was able to capture the malevolent spirit in the mirror, but an ‘innocent’ had to be sacrificed in the process. The mirror was then shattered to keep the spirit imprisoned.”
That wasn’t so bad of a story when it came to Executioner tales. However, I didn’t like the idea of having to sacrifice someone, unless I could choose a certain sperm-donor bastard. Prudence’s tale reminded me even more of Layne telling me about the movie Constantine and the demon caught in the mirror.
“And the second?” Doc pressed.
“That one didn’t go so well.”
“The slayer died, I take it,” Cooper said.
“Not at first.” Zelda shuddered. “Somehow, the creature that had been
