Page 44 of Trick Me
Ash stiffens.
This has to be the reflection the witch was talking about…
Chapter
Seven
ERYNN
We’re both staring into the water, and I immediately wish we weren’t.
The pool is wrong in every possible way. Too still, too dark, too perfect in its reflection of the moon overhead. It’s like looking into liquid obsidian, if obsidian could judge you and find you wanting. The surface doesn’t ripple, doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to breathe. It’s the kind of still that makes you want to throw something in just to prove it’s actually water and not a portal to somewhere where teeth live.
“This is giving me serious horror vibes,” I mutter, gripping Ash’s hand tighter. His palm is warm against mine, the only warm thing in this clearing. “Where everyone knows looking in the cursed mirror is aterrible idea but they do it anyway because the plot demands their stupidity?”
“And then they die horribly,” Ash finishes, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in what might be comfort or might be him checking that I’m still solid and real. “While screaming about how they should have listened to the warnings.”
“Exactly. And there are always warnings. Usually from a creepy local who speaks in riddles and has cataracts.”
“We had a creepy witch who spoke in riddles.”
“No cataracts, though.”
“That we could see.”
“Fair point. Or maybe she had perfect vision and that was the real curse.” I’m babbling, but looking at this pool has every instinct in me screaming that we should run. Now. Fast. And never stop. “So we agree that this is stupid?”
“Incredibly stupid,” he confirms, but he’s leaning forward anyway, drawn by what I assume is a terrible curiosity I’m suffering from too.
“But we’re doing it anyway?”
“Obviously. We’ve come this far on bad decisions. Why stop now?”
My reflection stares back. It’s normal at first, just me appearing exhausted and disheveled in a borrowed dress that’s already showing signs of our trek through the woods. There’s a leaf in my hair I didn’t knowabout, and my makeup has given up entirely, leaving me with what Sera calls “raccoon chic.”
Then my reflection smiles.
I definitely didn’t smile.
Her eyes start to glow with this silver light like moonlight on morgue metal, and her smile keeps widening, showing too many teeth. Far too many teeth that belong in sharks’ mouths, not human faces.
“Oh, fuck no,” I breathe, but I can’t look away. It’s like she’s got hooks in my eyes, keeping them locked on hers.
Ash makes a strangled sound beside me, and I risk a glance at his reflection.
Gods. Oh gods.
It’s him but wrong, caught between forms, human face stretched over wolf bone structure, the geometry all off like someone tried to fold a person into an animal shape without removing any of the original parts. His jaw extends too far, packed with teeth that shouldn’t fit, some human-flat, others wolf-sharp, creating this horrible, crowded mouth that looks as though it’s in constant pain. His hands can’t decide what they want to be, fingers elongating into claws and then shrinking back, bones breaking and re-forming in endless loops.
“That’s not—” he starts, but his reflection grins, and the expression is pure darkness, pure wrong, pure nightmare fuel.
My reflection tilts her head, still grinning that awful smile, and mouths words I can’t hear but somehow understand:You’re nothing without them.
Thethemfeels plural, feels like it means the ghosts, means Ash, means everyone who’s ever mattered.
“Okay, backing away now,” I say, but my body won’t move. It’s as though the pool has gravity, pulling us closer. “Ash? We should really stop looking at the creepy murder water.”
“Agreed,” he mutters, but he’s not moving either. His jaw is clenched so tight I hear the grinding of his teeth.
