Page 1 of The Other Side of the Mirror

Prologue

The smoke was everywhere, curling around a framed picture of our family like it would strangle them with those dark tendrils. Just as it was trying to do to us now. The fire had spread too fast, moving too quickly to be real, as though the blaze was a living creature bent on destroying us. I took a deep breath, then coughed harshly as the smoke scorched my throat.

Covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve, I started to move down the hallway toward the back door…but my mother grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a stop. The gold that encircled the pupils of her hazel eyes glowed in the light of the flames as she wordlessly dragged me in the other direction, her other hand clenched around my brother’s.

Tobias’s eyes were wide as he took in the flames engulfing our home. “We need to help Dad?—”

“No.” My mother pulled us away from the closest exit and into our living room. “This way.”

I struggled as I realized where she was taking us, but her hand was like a steel vise around my wrist. “There’s no way out from here, we need to?—”

“Trust me,” my mother gasped hoarsely as she led us toward the oversized mirror on the back wall. It gleamed strangely in the firelight—the glass rippling curiously.

A trick of the heat?

“This is the only way out,” she continued. “You need to get to Quinn’s…”

She coughed fitfully, a harsh, choked sound, and I knew if we stayed here another minute, the fire would be the least of our problems. The black smoke seared down my throat, as my eyes streamed tears.

“Mom, you need to tell us what’s going on,” I croaked. “Whowasthat?—”

I didn’t have a chance to finish my thought before she placed her hand on my chest and pushed me toward the mirror. Stumbling backwards, I reached behind me, grabbing onto the metal frame of the mirror, screaming as the brass rosettes trailing along the edge of the glass burned into the palm of my hand.

Tobias sucked in a breath as he took in the angry burn. “Eva?—”

“You need to go,now,” my mother choked out, her voice breaking. “Your dad and I will hold him off.” She put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing Tobias’s hand in the other. “Eyes up, stout hearts. Remember, the only way out is through.”

The familiar refrain sounded frighteningly like a goodbye. From a glance, I could tell Tobias heard it too.

A sob lodged in my throat, and I choked on it.

“Come with us, Mom,” Tobias pleaded, as confused as I was as he glanced at the undulating mirror. “Don’t…you don’t have to leave us.”

She only looked at him sadly, then at me. “I love you.”

For the rest of my life, I would regret not saying those three words back to her in that moment.

Then the door on the other side of the room was kicked open with a crash. A hooded figure stalked forward, barely visible through the smoke. My mother ran at him with a battle cry.

A blinding light flashed through the space, cutting through the din like lightning. My mother started screaming as the glow surrounded her, an endless keening howl as the brightness illuminated the man in the doorway.

Frozen with shock and pain, my eyes locked with his through the haze of the heat, his pale eyes flashing in the strange light as blood dripped from his sword.

His lips curved in a terrifying, soulless smile. “Finally.”

My brother took a step toward our mom. But something bright slammed into my chest, and I fell back toward the mirror in an endless instant. All I could think was that I needed to get to Quinn’s house, somewhere safe, somewhere I could get help?—

But the solid glass wasn’t there.

I screamed as I fell into the nothingness, my eyes closing as I welcomed the darkness.

Chapter1

Eva

SEVEN YEARS LATER

Ihad always been somewhat afraid of mirrors. The sense I was being watched when I wasn’t looking, like the reflection would shimmer and the world would suddenly stop being my own. Sometimes at night when I went to wash my face before bed, I would glance up, soap still on my lashes, as if expecting the person I saw in the mirror to reach out and pull me through. In the daylight, it was easier to laugh off those anxious imaginings—but my fear had become far too tangible after what happened the day my family died. Or rather, what I imagined had occurred. But I still kept the ornate, floor-length antique mirror in my living room covered haphazardly with a sheet, like that would guard against what was beyond it.

---