Holidays are Hell

"You are the most clever man," she said, letting her realization play out on her face as she caught his eye through one of the mirrors and smiled seductively. "In addition to being the most handsome, of course." She whirled back toward him, intending to draw him closer again. "God, how I've missed you."

He caught her arms, stopping her short—again, gently—and held her in place. It was something Zoe had forgotten. He didn't move from one position to another. He glided. And that wasn't something she had to imagine. He had the ability all on his own. "Oh, I've missed you as well, Zoe," he said, smiling back.

She shut her eyes and held her breath as panic threatened to thread through her veins. She let him sense her uncertainty. It was only natural for her to question whether it'd been a good idea to come here, so she let him feel that hesitancy as well. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring over her shoulder at his mirrored self, waiting to see what emerged. But there was only the Tulpa as she'd always seen him, and she suddenly felt like she'd never been gone, or escaped him, at all. "Please, baby. You have to let me explain."

"Explain why you betrayed me?" he murmured, now that she'd spoken of it only.

"Explain how I managed not to," she replied, and willed him to believe her with eyes, voice. Her mind. He must have felt it because after a moment he appeared to soften.

"And is this a peace offering?" he asked, eyes flicking down to the cornucopia she still held.

A small smile lifted one corner of her mouth. "Merely a centerpiece for your holiday celebration. I remember how you enjoyed Thanksgiving."

He had. It was his favorite holy day.

"Then you plan on staying for dinner?"

She lifted her free hand and removed her glasses, raising her head to gaze directly into the cold black depths of eyes she'd never thought to see again. "I was hoping," she said softly.

He nodded after a moment. "Good. Then over dinner you can offer your explanation to us all."

And he glided to the door to usher in his sycophants, movements impossibly smooth… and entirely too quiet for Zoe's liking.

Chapter 6

Dinner was held in the same mirrored room, the hollowed out center suddenly taken up with an elongated black marble table, the cornucopia Zoe had made centered like a bull's-eye. A gleaming table setting of mirrored plates, china, and crystal winked in the studded light of two shining candelabras. The Tulpa could now see himself above, below, and in the mirrored glasses of his half dozen guests. He'd become even more of a control freak since Zoe's hard betrayal, which she understood. Ignoring the fact that he was the epitome of everything she despised—that he was the coldest, hardest heartache in this world—she instead pitied that he felt the need for it, and grieved for the suspicion thinning his lips. She sorrowed, mostly, that she'd been the one to put it there. Her eyes teared as she thought of the pain she'd caused, and she discreetly wiped them away behind the mirrored frame of her borrowed glasses, donned again like everyone else at the table.

Across from her, Lindy glared at her from behind her own, much cooler, lenses.

Zoe ignored her, as well as the disbelieving snort from the Shadow seated to her right as he scented her emotion. There was another man she didn't know leering at her from her left, and two other favored agents flanking Lindy, but Zoe didn't try to engage any of them in conversation. They took their clues from the Tulpa, and even though homicide lived in their mirrored faces, they'd stay their hands as long as he did.

"Fruit?" Damian offered, plucking an apple from the cornucopia.

Zoe swallowed hard, hands shaking slightly as she cut through white meat. "It's decorative," Zoe informed him. "I didn't mean for it to be…"

He took a bit of the crisp skin, his thin lips littered with sugar.

"… eaten," she finished on a sigh. She looked to the Tulpa for support, but he was busy watching himself in his mirrored wineglass. He wouldn't let them injure her, yet, but he'd let them have their fun. "Choose one, then. It doesn't matter to me."

"Really? Then it doesn't matter to me, either." He lifted the entire basket and deposited it in front of her so that a few nuts rolled loose. "You choose."

Zoe considered before gingerly choosing a ripe pear, scooping up the loosened nuts and depositing those on her plate as well. Then she set to righting the cornucopia, making it look as ornate—if less stacked—as before. Damian snickered and immediately yanked free a grape bunch before passing it around the table so the others could do the same. Zoe pursed her lips, but said nothing. The Tulpa had steepled his fingers, observing them all over the top like an amused parent watching his children at play.

Zoe decided to begin. "You care nothing about this—or me—I see."

"On the contrary, darling. Time hasn't lessened my feelings for you. It strengthened them."

Lindy popped a handful of berries in her mouth, snickering.