Bianca perked up. “You mean the demon-kissing, boyfriend-stealing, realm-breaking lip gloss?”
I crossed to my vanity, pulling open the drawer where my entire glittery arsenal lived. Tubes and pots clinked together — cherry red, midnight plum, coral with gold flecks, and at the very back… the peach-gold tube that had started this entire mess.
I picked it up carefully, like it might bite me. The shimmer inside caught the lamplight, the gold and rose dust swirling like a tiny storm.
Raven tilted his head. “That one, plus a few others for extra punch. You make a little altar of temptation. He’ll come sniffing.”
Bianca’s grin was pure mischief. “We honey-trap the magical parasite with a cosmetics display?”
“Call it what you want,” Raven said. “When he’s close enough, we use the seam’s pull and push. Hard.”
I looked down at the tube in my hand. My pulse was loud in my ears. This thing had been meant to make Nate notice me. Now, it was my best shot at saving him.
“Fine,” I said, shoving it in my pocket. “Auditorium it is.”
Raven fluffed his wings. “You’d better be ready. Once we open that seam, there’s no going back.”
The crack in the flamingo mirror gave one slow pulse and somewhere deep in the glass, something laughed.
I lay on my bed thinking of Nate, time was running out. It was already Monday night. There were three days until Baba Yaga’s deadline hit, and somehow that felt shorter than it had yesterday. Maybe because I could hear the clock ticking in my own bones.
Chapter 13
Baba Yaga and Fate
The night sky over Hallowell Bay was a bruise-colored stretch of clouds, restless and low. Baba Yaga leaned against the lighthouse railing, the ocean moving slow and heavy below.
In the harbor, lights blinked like sleepy eyes. She’d stood there long enough to know which ones were real and which were illusions cast by the restless things swimming just beyond mortal sight. The town slept; the veil did not.
“It never does,” Baba Yaga murmured to no one, her fingers drumming an absent rhythm on the lighthouse railing. “The veil has moods, just like the sea. And lately…” She narrowed her eyes at the horizon. “It’s been in one of mine.”
A ripple in the air announced her arrival.
Fate stepped out of the wind as if it belonged to her. Six feet tall, all legs and trouble, her army fatigues were tucked into scuffed combat boots. Rainbow curls bounced in the sea breeze, each twist catching the lighthouse beam in a different color. Her nails were glossy, fire-red talons and didn’t belong on someone who could snap a neck with two fingers, but she made them work. Contradictions were Fate’s specialty.
Moonlight skimmed her deep, perfect midnight skin and caught in her silver eyes, making them gleam like polished coins. She crossed her arms, curves shifting with the movement.
“You’ve been watching her,” Fate said, voice low and smooth.
“Jessica Knox,” Baba Yaga replied. “Amateur witch. Big heart, bad impulse control, currently playing footsie with a mirror parasite.”
“Thinking of stepping in?”
“Maybe. The girl’s got spirit, but Etan’s good at the game. He’s weaving himself into the fabric of that boy’s life, and once those threads set…” Baba Yaga shrugged. “Cutting him out will tear more than you want.”
Fate stepped closer, the scent of rain clinging to her. “And you’re asking me for what? Permission? Advice?”
“Sanity check.”
She leaned on the railing, scanning the dark water. “You know what happens if she loses the real Nate. I’ve seen the Mirror Realm take hold, whole towns go hollow. People walking around like they’re alive, but the light’s gone. Just echoes wearing skin.”
“That’s why I’m tempted to drag her clear.”
Fate shook her head. “No. Let her prove herself.”
“You sure?”
“One week. Pressure forges or shatters. If she wins, she’s stronger for it. If she loses…” Fate’s gaze cut to hers, sharp and knowing. “You’ll feel the ripple first. You’ll handle it.”
