Sunglasses After Dark: Sonja Blue 1 by Nancy A. Collins

Author:Nancy A. Collins
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-01-19T11:36:30+00:00

Chapter Six

It was late when I returned to my room. I stripped down to my skin and sat in the dark, thinking about what had happened at the party.

I'd finally come face to face with one of my own. What had Morgan really looked like? The thought was enough to make me shudder.

I contemplated the cheval glass in the corner of my room. What about me? What did I really look like?

I'd dismissed the belief that vampires hated mirrors as an old wives' tale, like the inviolability of sacred ground. Maybe I was the ignorant one.

Perhaps vampires loathe mirrors not because of what they don't see, but because of what they do.

It was dawn before I mustered the courage to stand before the mirror. I was terrified of what might stare back at me, but too curious to remain ignorant. Although my reflection wasn't that of a withered hag, I was outlined in a faint nimbus of reddish light. It was strongest about my head and shoulders; I was reminded of the corona glimpsed during an eclipse. My reflection smiled at me. I put my hand to my mouth, but my mirror twin didn't. A long, pointed tongue, like that of a cat, emerged from my duplicate's lips.

"No!" I struck the cheval glass hard enough to make it spin. I backed away, watching the mirror as it flashed reversed images of the room. It came to a halt with its back to me, the mirror facing the wall. I left it that way.

Ghilardi came to visit me within a week of our encounter at Herr Esel's party.

I received him in the parlor and, after sampling the house wine, escorted him to my room. He had a black valise, like the ones doctors carry. I didn't think anything about it, since my clients tended to rely on props.

Once we were alone, I excused myself and ducked behind a screen to change. I told him to make himself comfortable; he nodded politely, glancing about the room nonchalantly. He looked at the inverted mirror for a long moment before moving to the bed. I tried to engage him in conversation, hoping to divine his kink.

"So, Herr Ghilardi, what is it you like?"

"Like?" He sounded distracted.

"Ja. What is it you would like me to do to you? Or you to me? Don't be shy, Mein Herr, there's nothing you could say that could possibly shock me."

"I see." He didn't sound convinced. "Fräulein Blau…"

"Sonja."

"Umm, very well, then. Sonja, I would like you to do nothing to me."

I stepped out from behind the screen. "Are you quite sure about that, Herr Ghilardi?"

Ghilardi was standing beside the bed; he was still fully clothed and had the black bag open. He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. My workclothes often affected the customers that way.

I was dressed in a black chamois Merry Widow corset that lifted and separated my breasts like jelly molds. My legs were sheathed in black nylons with seams up the back, held in place by a black lace garter belt.

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