Mirror

Zara Dusk Mirror Copyright © 2023 by Zara Dusk All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Contents Acknowledgement Scar Zaden Scar Scar Zaden Scarla Zaden Scarla Zaden Scarla Scarla Scarla Zaden Scarla Scarla Zaden Scarla Zaden Scarla Scarla Scarla Zaden Zaden Scarla Scarla Zaden Scarla Zaden Zaden Zaden Scarla Scarla Scarla Free Novella A Court of Greed and Excess About the Author Also by Zara Dusk Acknowledgement Massive thanks to my daughter, Lani, whose ideas I steal shamelessly and who makes an excellent sounding board for fixing plot holes (but not the sexy bits!). Thanks also to my son, Sean, for his boundless energy and optimism, and to my amazing husband, Tim, for putting up with all the madness and always encouraging me to follow my passions. You rock! Thanks also to my biggest fan and loudest advocate, my sister Anne Louise, who motivates me to keep going. To Mum and Dad for their encouragement, to Clare for her feedback on the early drafts, and to all those people out there in internetland who make jolly comments or send lovely emails. I love youse all. Scar Power swells through me as I stride along the wide paving stones of Solren. I am the Cloaked Queen, the rightful ruler of the Fallen Angels, but they don’t recognize my reign. They will never acknowledge a mere mortal as their Queen. I may have the rarest vestigial powers of angels, but I don’t have their respect. The sun is setting in a dramatic display of oranges and pinks, highlighting the tall buildings in the sealed section, some as many as five stories high. Here under the temperature dome in Solren, the richest of the rich have their homes. Well-dressed gentlemen in the latest fashion with sleeves trailing along the pavers stroll leisurely with all the time in the world. No sprinting to get inside before dusk’s end. Back home in Malanox, time is the one thing nobody has. My ears prick at the sounds of a fight, which is so uncommon here. A man and a woman emerge from a high-class establishment that I have figured out is like one of the Undercity pleasure hubs, but where the women are paid to take their pleasure. “You can’t say no. I paid you,” the man warns, his nose crooked and suit rumpled. “I paid for it, you fucking bitch.” Another well-dressed gentleman scurries past with his head down, clearly with no intention of intervening in the scuffle that might turn violent. I have a long history with violent scuffles, and this one is teetering right on the edge. The woman’s black hair is long and disheveled, and her voice rises in a shriek. “You never paid for that. I wouldn’t do that disgusting thing in a million years.” “You’ll do what I tell you.” The man slams into the woman, pinning her against a wall so she can’t kick. She just beats helplessly on his back. A familiar heat grows within me, the anger I’ve been carrying for years and truly nurturing this past month. Zaden, the Margrave of Malanox, kidnapped me and locked me in his castle. I, like a fool, fell in love with my captor. I believed him when he spoke pretty lies, and he broke my heart when I learned the truth. But my shining angel, Zaden, betrayed me, and it stung. It fucking stung. He lied about Mom’s death, he lied about my sister’s death, and he lied about Molly’s death. Since then, I’ve been tossed between powerful angels, warring males, used as bait and leverage, and I’ve had enough. My anger reaches boiling point when I watch this crooked-nosed man use his strength against this tousled woman, pressing her up against the fine gray building, smashing his lips against hers. “Stop,” I command. The man ignores me. Probably can’t hear me above his own squelching kisses. Probably used to tuning out female voices. I’ll give him one more chance. “Stop!” My voice is louder now, and he can’t ignore it. He turns his neck to look at me. “Wait your turn, love.” He looks me up and down, taking in my curves and wild copper hair. “Actually, little love, you can join in now. Wriggle out of those tight black pants and come here.” He crooks a finger at me as though all I want in life is to let his greasy hands grope me. I scowl. “Not a fucking chance.” He narrows his eyes. “Smile, sweetheart. You want to look pretty, don’t you?” With his other hand, he does something that makes the woman jump and shriek, and the monster in my chest turns feral. I will teach this disgusting man a lesson. One month ago, the night I became the Cloaked Queen, I inherited Inflict from the Cloaked King. I stabbed the ruling angel with a celestial-tipped blade and watched him bleed out at my feet, then Inflict moved from his body into mine, completing the dyad. The dyad, Gaze and Inflict, the two rarest angelic powers, the magic that qualifies me as Queen. With Gaze, I can see other people’s magic, can distinguish powerless humans from those with vestigial magic like me, and can even see angels, who glow as brightly as stars. That brings knowledge. I’ve spent the past month practicing and honing my skills, and now I can channel Inflict as easily as breathing. The crooked-nosed greaseball is still