[Mirror Me Series Book 1]
Hope Martinez was taught to fear her reflection, but the magical world on the other side is too tempting. Descended from those who can use mirrors as weapons, Hope has many dangers to face if she wants to get home before a...
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Two hooded figures glided side-by-side down a hall of mirrors revealing no reflection in each they passed. The haunting cries of those sealed within leaked from the sparkling walls and flooded the corridor with a kind of sadness that might make any light hearted creature seek refuge. Yet no such creature ever traveled these cursed halls, only dark things found solace in such a place and such a place kept it well.
The hooded figures shared a pair of matching diamond earrings; each one glinted on their right ear with a shine that rivaled the dim torchlight and glared like the sun peeking through a gap in a dark cave. Their pale hairless arms swished back and forth in a rhythmic fashion until they arrived at a set of large iron doors. Air hissed into the room as the doors opened.
Before the two figures sat a masked man on a tall throne made of many broken mirrors. His clawed fingers tapped apprehensively while his purple eyes shifted behind the mask. Around him stood five other figures; all draped in the same dark shroud. All six turned turned their attention to the two new arrivals.
"Seems we have all arrived," said the masked man on the throne.
"Not quite," said one of the male hooded figures on the left. He stood proud and tall with jeweled fingers wrapped around an equally jeweled cane. "It appears we are missing Vanity and Doubt."
"Vanity," laughed a sly voice from a female near the back. Her skin was icey blue and white hair fell from her hood. "How amusing. Vanity never comes to the meetings, remember? She is too busy playing with her toys than report to a summoning by his holy divine. And Doubt, of course, remains indisposed as he should be."
"Silence," said the masked man. "This is not a time to bicker, but instead a time to celebrate. Let me get a look at all my precious children." He rose from the throne flaring his cape. A delicate but foreboding motion filled his steps. He proceeded to weave through the group; his claws clinking like knives. "My court of shadows, my children of the dark, my vices of destruction," whispered the masked man. "I am glad that you all came from your respective dominions to answer my call and in such short notice. It has been over two hundred and fifty years since we last came together. How good it is to see you all well."
"And you, Holy Divine," said the group in unison.
"My dear Despair," said the masked man as he stopped at the girl closest to him. "How delightful you show up being the furthest from this place and yet the first to arrive." His claws caressed the girl's icy blue skin. A silver piercing pinched her upper right cheek looking like a frozen tear.
"Yes, my lord," said Despair. "I would never miss a council with you."
"Good," whispered the masked man as he moved to another. "Malice," he said to another young girl. This one had small purple tattoos on her neck and arms. Her hair a mixture of red and pink. A large sword hung by her hip.
"Yes, Divine?" asked Malice, kneeling and kissing his clawed hands.
