Welcome to secret world hidden behind shadowy fairy glamour, where thieving spriggans rob you blind, beautiful banshees mesmerize you with their song, big green trolls kick heads at nightclubs and vampire Mafiosi rule the streets. Here a seductive magic mirror lies hidden deep in a demon's lair, with a simple warning: don't stare at the glass…
Ice is a light-fingered fairy who can't resist a look at the powerful mirror. She and her fairy friends run confidence games, pretending to be fortune tellers and bedazzling customers with their glamour. But Ice longs for moreshe wants a real life, a respectable job and something to strive for. The mirror offers her a chance to achieve everything she's ever dreamed of. But when she pilfers it, she discovers that its power comes with a price: the mirror is a gateway to obsession and madness... and it will take every trick in her arsenal just to survive.
About the Author
Erica Hayes has been a law student, an air force officer, an editorial assistant and a musician.
Read an Excerpt
Stolen diamond bracelets glittered on my wrists in colored nightclub lights, and I laughed, my wings swelling damp in the warm crush of bodies. Midnight at Unseelie Court, dark and fragrant with smoke and sweat. Music ripped my ears like sweet razors, so loud, the air thudded in my lungs and my hair shook to the beat. Strobe lights sliced me, snapshots in time as I danced—here, there, gone.
Blaze wrapped his long white arm around my waist, spilling flames on my shoulder from soft crimson hair. I grinned and wriggled closer, his hot firefae flesh a delicious glory on my skin. Dancing, drinking, diamonds I don’t own. Doesn’t get sweeter than this.
The floor’s packed tonight, a mash of bright fairy wings and rainbow limbs and slick vampire smiles, the air steamy with breath and lust and chemical euphoria. Humans here, too, a few sly ones who can see, but mostly shimmer-eyed and drunk on poison glamour, here for the oblivion. A heady bubble of unreality, this club—no thought, no consequences. Kiss, embrace, dance, love, drown your cares in glorious sensory nectar. A fairy kind of place, no rules, no guilt, the air so glassy with glamour, it might shatter.
Even the name is a fairy joke: Unseelie Court. We fae have no court, no queen or princes or justice. We leave that to demons, gangsters, people who matter.
The smell alone warmed my insides. I’m waterfae, which makes me attuned to moisture, and the wet scent of all that pleasure pressed a sweet ache deep inside me. I shimmied on the crowded dance floor, my silky skirt sticking to my thighs, and lifted my arms in the candy white smoke. My new diamonds sparkled over my wrists, painted blue and green and scarlet by flashing lights. We’d filched them tonight from a glossy apartment in South Yarra, along with a pile of cash and other trinkets.
My skin glowed blue with desire. Shiny things get me all warm and wriggly. I won’t get to keep them. We owe the Valenti gang too much protection money. But just for tonight, they’re mine. And what harm ever came from something shiny?
Behind me, Blaze rubbed his cheek against my wing, sparks drifting from his pretty red hair. Ooh, tingles, all down my side like sugar. I flexed my shoulders, fluttering golden dust that danced in manic spotlights and rippled in the brittle static of glamour. Blaze is my best friend, a dazzling firefae boy with cute muscles and a cheeky sharp-toothed smile, and his glamour is good. I mean, it’s really good. Humans won’t see the fine crimson wings like a dragonfly’s, the flame dripping from his fingers, his narrow fae-muscled body. They just see a cute redhead with wicked black eyes.
Me? Well, I do my best, but glamour isn’t my forte. My nose looks a bit less pointy, my hair more blond than orange, my garish yellow skin fades to human tones. That’s about it. Glamour or not, I’m still the same geeky old me.
Blaze slid his arm over my shoulder to offer his fingertip, slick and adorned with a shimmering purple pill.
Naughty boy. I giggled, licked the pill off, and swallowed. It stung bitter, but his finger tasted of sherbet, sparkly and nice.
He rubbed his sharp nose in my hair, and I laughed, my blood hot and urgent, my head awhirl with fizzy-sweet vodka and the thrill of our night’s work. Forget the Valentis. Forget the world. Just me and my diamonds, jumping, twirling, dancing until I dropped. Yes.
Next to me a blue-haired vampire kid in leather and his girl kissed, bloody spit trickling on her chin as she swayed to the music, his fingers sliding beneath her skirt. A pair of shirtless trolls scoped for girls, sweat glistening on bulging green muscles and bell-pierced nipples. One winked at me, flicking ragged black hair from his eyes, and I pretended not to see him.
“Spice for Ice!” Blaze yelled, sparks showering. He’s allowed to make fun of my unfortunate name. He sizzled my pointed ear with his tongue. Shivers. Mmm. More tongue, slower and wetter than strictly necessary. Bet he’s got a hard-on.
I arched my butt backwards and giggled again. Oh, yeah. He’s wearing suction-tight leather pants—how he gets those on, I’ll never know—and they don’t leave much to the imagination.
I grinned, magical warmth already glowing in my guts. Blaze feels as good as he looks, and when he’s sparkled to the eyeballs and high from housebreaking and too much broken glass, he always tries something. But we’re just friends. We’ve got rules, and they don’t include dragging each other out the back for a hot dirty shag.
Blaze is my lucky charm. Other guys will laugh at me or hit me or play tricks on me just to watch me cry. Fairy girls get that. It’s a harsh fae-taunting world out there. Every week you hear about a new fairyslasher, a sadist, a murderer on the loose. Fairies aren’t people, see. We’re whispers, shadows, irrelevancies sheathed in desperate glamour so we won’t stand out or offend anyone or make anyone feel uncomfortable. We’re just flotsam, bobbing on the surface of real people’s lives. We just hang out and party. It’s what we’re here for. No one cares if we die or hurt or bleed.
But I know I’m safe with Blaze, even if he is a horny little rat.
That hunky troll bumped my hip, his beady black gaze slithering down over my ass, and Blaze snarled wet sparks at him and spun me away.
I snickered, and wriggled to face him, static shifting. He tossed bloodred hair and threw me that dazzling Blaze grin. He cuts his hair short in the back and scrunches it wildly too long at the front so he can shake it back like that and skewer you with his dirty black come-taste-me stare.
But I know he doesn’t mean it, not with me. He’s just having fun. I tickled his pointy teeth with my claw. “Go rub that thing on someone else, ya dirty whore.”
He slid bony fingers over my hip, keeping me just an inch or two away. His scent zinged my nose, fresh like a newly struck match. Rakish golden rings glinted in his pointy ears, and his studded black velvet jacket was cropped at his smooth hip with nothing underneath. Sweat caressed his narrow muscles in all the right places. He flicked his smoldering gaze to the bar for a second, ruby sparks jumping from his lips. “I can taste green. Azure’s watching us. Wanna tease her a bit?”
Azure’s our other best friend, as pretty and awesome as Blaze. I looked. She was watching us, with that glinting glaze over her eyes that meant trouble. “You’re cruel.”
“You’re scared.” He edged closer, sweat-slick skin sliding on my bare midriff. My breasts pressed against his chest, burning.
Already the purple pill flowered deep and hot inside me. It couldn’t be desire. I was far too sensible to want Blaze. Indignation lifted my eyebrows. “Am not. I’m sensible.”
“To hell with sensible. Let’s be reckless. I’m good at reckless.” He wetted his plum-red lips, and the smell of that moisture tripped warm dizzy waves in my skull. Hot fae boy. Lips. Diamonds.
I couldn’t keep the giggles in any longer, and I shoved him in the chest, tipping him backwards. “What you are is a naughty boy with a hard-on. Get a girlfriend.” And I turned and pushed my way through the fragrant crowd, laughter floating from me like starlight on the swelling currents of my high.
Colors tumbled and prismed. My diamonds dazzled me, and I stumbled over my own ankles a few times as I approached the blue neon bar. Azure pointed at me and laughed, pearlescent wings jittering as she swayed on her stool. She wore a jagged-hemmed white dress that left her back bare, and she’d piled her green hair above her head in a wild nest of knots and stolen pearls, a pair of broken chopsticks and a cocktail fork sticking out.
My purple-drugged heart swelled with love and awe. Azure’s the pretty one. Her glamour shows some weirdly beautiful supermodel, tall and willowy with wide-spaced almond eyes. Her real appearance is the same, only with shimmering oval wings, and her skin is a dozen perfect shades of pale air-sprite blue.
Whereas my hair looks kinda like mango peel, half green and half moldy orange, and my wings are burnt yellow, ragged and droopy like a sick butterfly’s.
Some girls have all the luck.
Azure poked my chin with a sharp claw, her soft breeze playing with my hair. Az is airfae, attuned to air and the atmosphere. “You’re drunk, diamond girl.”
“Not true. I’m high. You’re the one who’s drunk.” I jumped up and down, unsteady on my heels, until the bar boy noticed me, and he served me two pink vodka lemonades without me asking. Maybe I was drunker than I thought. Still plenty of stolen cash left, though. I tossed him a crumpled twenty, waving my diamonded wrist grandly. “Keep it, peaches. Stop looking at him like that.”
Azure said nothing, and I lurched onto a stool and tickled her slender ribs. “I said, stop staring at him.”
“Who?” She tossed her pretty blue head, her wings aflutter, and concentrated too hard on stirring her drink.
“Oh, I dunno, the woolly mammoth in the corner? Who d’ya think?”
She thumped her chin into her hand and her elbow onto the bar, sea-green moisture staining her eyes. “But he’s so pretty.”
Guilt twinged my happy guts, and I patted her shoulder clumsily. “Yeah, I know. But it’s an orchid farm in here, okay? Look around. There’s other pretty ones.”
“Not like him.” She hiccuped and burst into proper tears, her wings flooding verdant.
I sighed. Last month she’d had the hots for some cute blond vampire babe. This week it was Blaze. She’d get over it. But my heart still ached for her. Just because she falls quick doesn’t mean she doesn’t fall hard. And Blaze is the Court’s biggest boy whore. He’ll only break her heart.
I slipped my arm around her bony shoulder and pointed to the dance floor, where Blaze was trickling orange flame down some laughing banshee’s spine, singeing the ends of her long silver hair. “Look at him. See that girl he’s dancing with? In the silver dress? Oh, now he’s tongue-kissing her, he’s putting his hand up her . . . Yeah. You really want that to be you?”
Az just looked at me, indignant breeze dragging her hair back.
I flushed, vodka-tainted water heating my muscles. Maybe I wasn’t quite making my point. “Okay, let’s not look at that anymore.” Firmly I spun her back around to the bar.
She glared, wet-eyed. “You’re a real big help, Ice.”
I gulped my vodka, pink fizz shooting fireworks up my nose. “So he’s boy candy. Everyone knows that. You also know what a bitch he can be. Whaddaya want me to say?”
“Promise you’ll never go with him.”
I flushed again, and this time the water burned my cheeks. “What?”
“Butterflies in the sun. I’ve seen him flirt with you. Promise me you’ll never.”
“Never flirt with him?” Discomfort twisted, ruining my high. Why dissemble? We were best friends. That’s all. Even if I’d wanted to, I didn’t have the courage to pursue it further. Believe it or not, I’m not too smooth with the boys, and courage is not my middle name.
Azure swatted my shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“Hide and seek, catch-me-if-you-can. It’s just games—”
“Promise, Ice. I couldn’t bear it.”
She stared, so earnest and brimful with tears that I couldn’t take it. “Okay, I promise. Call me a pincushion and shove safety pins up my nose if I’m wrong. It’s the rules anyway, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Azure gave a sad half smile.
I hugged her, my hand slipping beneath her delicate wings. “You’ll get over him, Az.”
She hugged me back, and I felt better. I had nothing to hide. She sniffed, wiping snot on my shoulder. “I wish I was like you, Ice. You’re the sensible one.”
I thought of Blaze’s tongue in my ear and giggled. “Yeah, that’s me: sense, dense, intense. Dripping out my ears, it is. Of course you wanna be me. Why wouldn’t you? You’re only the prettiest, cleverest girl in the whole world.”
She kissed me, a sugary taste of sky-blue lips, and gamely wiped her tears away in green streaks. “You’re nice. Let’s get drunk and find some boys.”
Meaning she’d get prettily tipsy, I’d get smashed, she’d find more boys than she had hands for, and I’d get the leftovers who were too plain to interest her and too shitfaced to care she was a hundred times more beautiful than me. But what are best friends for?
“Yes yes yes.” I paid for two more drinks, and we clinked glasses and chugged. Sugar and alcohol burst into my brain like flares, and my nose fizzed.
Azure gasped. “Raspberries and ice cream. More.”
“Careful, there’s a fairyslasher on the loose.”
She snorted. “S’always a fairyslasher. More.”
I ordered more, and we chugged again. This time the froth did come out my nose, laced with plummy drug-charmed mirth. I laughed, splurting pink bubbles onto the guy next to me. “Whoa. Sorry, dude.” I yanked up my skirt hem to wipe his arm clean, but the frills were too short. My heels skidded from under me, and I landed in his lap in a giggling, spluttering heap.
Oops. I craned my neck up to apologize, and my laughter strangled.
Dark blue skin dusted with copper, so smooth and perfect, it’s unreal. Black hair so crisp, it curled jagged. Eyes the velvety gray of softened steel. Long narrow wings like silver-shot glass.
My senses tumbled, intoxicated in hot metal scent. Warm midnight blue hands steadied me, and my belly melted inside like chocolate fudge sauce on ice cream, running everywhere. I inhaled, molten iron and hot fairy skin. . . .
Fluid scorched into my wing veins, swelling them tight. I held my breath. Calm, Ice. He’s touching you. You’ve practically got your face in his lap. Say something really cool and seductive.
“Oh. Um. Hi, Indigo. It’s me.”
Yeah. That so wasn’t it.
Effortlessly, Indigo lifted me to my feet. Rusty wing-glitter shimmered warm on my shoulders. His coppery claws grazed my wrist, and tiny electric shocks crackled up my arms, sparking my diamonds blue.
I stared, my fingerpads itching. He wore black, as usual, jeans and a sleeveless shirt that showed off lean blue arms.
I wanted to rub my cheek against them, tickle my tongue along his biceps. Metalfae are usually twisted, hunchbacked little monsters with razor metal teeth and an attitude. Indigo—well, he’s tall and sculpted and moves light, like a cat burglar, but he’s still got razor metal teeth and an attitude. Licking is strictly off-limits, especially for a no-account geek girl like me.
He surveyed me back, steely eyes cool. “Nice diamonds.”
His dark quicksilver voice broke my skin out in bumps. I tugged my skirt shyly down over my butt, my skin zinging all over under his scrutiny. My tank top was splashed with pink drink, and my nipples poked the wet fabric, painfully visible. I caught myself fiddling with my hair and yanked my hand away, embarrassment squirming inside. I so wanted to be like Azure, elegant and gorgeous, instead of gangly and yellow and pointy-nosed like me.
At least I had a shiny score to impress him with. Not that it’d impress him much. He was the real deal, Indigo. Not just a petty con artist. I wanted to be him when I grew up. “What? Oh, yeah, thanks. They’re not mine. You like ’em?”
He gave me a dark silver-fanged smile, and my tongue tingled. Like candies, Indigo’s smiles. Make your mouth water, but you only get one when you’ve been a very good girl. Probably rot your teeth, too.
He tinkled a copper claw along my glittering bracelets. “Pretty. They suit you.”
My cheeks sizzled at his compliment. “Yeah? Wow. I mean . . . Thanks, you look great, too. I mean, not that you don’t always look gr . . . Well, that is. You look well.” Shit.
Excerpted from Shadowglass by .
Copyright © 2010 by Erica Hayes.
Published in March 2010 by St. Martin’s Press.
All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
A friend lent this to me...knowing I like urban fantasy writers such as Laurell K Hamilton, Kelley Armstrong, Karen Moning and Sherrilyn Kenyon. If you like their works, just be aware that this book tries to be intense. ALL the time. I've read both of the series, and someone wasn't spurting, dripping, bleeding, squirting or cuming...oh, maybe through 10 lines. It is an angsty teen's version of a story-poem that goes on way too long. The characters (some of them) tried to be likeable, but the author really doesn't give them any time to develop before they are up against a wall--either slammed there by an enemy, or being humped. Even Laurell K. has backed off of the pornographic parts of her works in favor of storytelling and character development. Please, Erica Hayes, take some time. Give your characters a chance to breathe. They deserve it, and so do we. I am a librarian...and I often recommend books to my patrons. This is one I will not. Too bad.
In Melbourne, Ice the water fairy loves partying and petty thieving especially with her best friend Blaze the firefae. They heist some cash and diamonds from an apartment to pay their protection tab to the Valenti mob. At a club where her beloved metallic fairy Indigo ignores her, Ice meets demon lord Kane. She steals a small mirror from him; an artifact he warned her not even look into, but the temptation proved too much. The mirror brought across from hell eliminates inhibitions as Ice learns first hand; everyone from mortal to supernatural want it. When she loses it, Ice fears Kane, rival demons, the mob and angels are coming for her and the missing mirror. Indigo, who stared at the mirror offers to find it, but to do so means betraying contractual partners,which Ice fears might leave her below the supernatural ooze since he has no inhibitions to adhere to any celestial code. The second Shadowfae Australian erotic urban fantasy makes the supernatural and mafia landscape seem genuine. The story line is fast-paced from the moment the strawberry scented anti-heroine proudly wears the ice she stole and never slows down for a contractual moment. Fans will enjoy this entertaining tale as the mirror from Hell opens the soul to enable the viewer to seek what they wish for since nothing inside them will prevent them from trying. Harriet Klausner
Couldn't get into it. Not as good as the first book in my opinion