DYING FOR YOUR TOUCH

Chapter 19: The Mirror’s Edge.

The air in the tunnel tasted of pulverized stone and ozone. Seraphina pressed her back against the jagged wall, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. Beyond the reinforced stone door, the sounds of the mansion had ceased. No footsteps. No shouting. No mechanical hum of the life-support systems. Just a silence so heavy it felt like physical pressure against her eardrums. She gripped the cold key in her hand, the metal biting into her skin. The entire structure was locked down, and she was the only one with the override frequency to reopen the exits. If she unlocked it, she risked letting the cleaners in. If she stayed here, she was waiting to die in a dark box.

She made her choice. She slammed the key into the port.

The stone door groaned, sliding open just enough for her to squeeze through. She emerged not into the bedroom but into a space that defied geography. The master suite was gone. In its place was a vast, shimmering expanse that looked like the interior of a hall of mirrors. Reflections of the room, of her, and of Valerius stretched into infinity, flickering like broken film.

She spotted him near the centre of the hall. He was standing perfectly still, his back to her, his shoulders set in a line of unnatural tension. Across from him, the woman stood. The doppelgänger. She was an exact carbon copy of Seraphina, right down to the jagged scar on her collarbone and the way her hair fell over her left eye. But where Seraphina was warm with blood and adrenaline, the woman was static, a cold, perfect projection.

I told you that you would find your way back to me, the woman said. Her voice was Seraphina’s voice, but he was stripped of all hesitation. It was sharp, surgical, and utterly devoid of mercy.

Valerius did not turn around. He stood with his hands clenched at his sides, his chest heaving. You are not her, he growled. The sound was a low, dangerous vibration that made the glass floors beneath them ripple.

The woman laughed, a sound that echoed in a dozen different octaves. She took a step toward him, her movements fluid and predatory. I am everything you ever wanted her to be. I am the ambition you crave. I am the power you need to keep this estate from crumbling. You signed the contract for a legacy, Valerius. You didn't sign it for a terminal human who is going to be dead before the year is out.

Seraphina’s pulse surged. She took a step forward, her boot scuffing against the polished floor. Both of them turned in perfect unison. They looked at her with identical, hollow expressions.

Seraphina, Valerius breathed. His eyes flickered, the icy blue light swirling with a desperate, frantic clarity. He moved toward her, but the doppelgänger lashed out, a whip of dark energy emerging from her hand to wrap around his wrist, pulling him back.

Stay out of this, the double commanded. She looked at Seraphina with a gaze that felt like a blade scraping against bone. You are just a temporary vessel. You were never supposed to survive the move to the estate. The contract was a death sentence, not a romance.

Seraphina didn't retreat. She reached into her dress, pulling out the small, silver dagger she had kept hidden since the night they arrived. She didn't know if it would work on a reflection, but she was past the point of caring about logic. She lunged, her movements fueled by a lifetime of repressed anger and the terrifying love she held for the man standing between them.

The doppelgänger met her halfway. They collided with the force of two storms, the glass floor shattering beneath their feet. They fell into the reflection, tumbling through a kaleidoscope of fragmented images. Seraphina saw herself screaming, herself laughing, herself dying. She saw every version of her life that had led to this moment, and she realized with a sickening clarity that the doppelgänger was right. She was dying. The decay the intruder spoke of wasn't just a metaphor. She could feel it in her own veins, a slow, icy rot that had been spreading since the day she signed the papers.

She pinned the double against a wall of mirrors, her hand closing around the woman’s throat. The skin felt like plastic, smooth and cold, and utterly lifeless.

Do you think you can take him? Seraphina hissed, her face inches from the double’s own. I don't care if I am dying. I will burn this entire reality to the ground before I let you have him.

The double smiled, her eyes turning into black, bottomless voids. You don't understand, she whispered. He isn't the one being stolen. He is the one who chose this. Look at his hands, Seraphina. Look at what he’s been holding since you arrived.

Seraphina glanced over her shoulder. Valerius was kneeling on the shattered glass, his hands pressed flat against the floor. He wasn't reaching for her. He was holding the mansion together, his own life force bleeding out of him to fuel the foundation. He was the anchor. And the double wasn't there to replace her; she was there to take over the burden when Seraphina finally gave out.

He’s sacrificing himself, Seraphina realized, her heart stuttering in her chest.

She pushed away from the double, stumbling toward Valerius. She grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him up, but he was frozen. He looked up at her, his face pale, his eyes leaking a thin stream of dark, viscous fluid.

I’m sorry, "he whispered. The contract... it was never a sale. It was a trade. My life for the house. Your life for his.

He looked past her, and Seraphina froze. The mirrors in the room began to crack, and from the largest central glass, a man stepped out. He was taller than Valerius, with the same sharp, aristocratic features and the same cold, calculating eyes. He wore a suit that looked like it was tailored from shadow, and he held a pen in his hand that was dripping with something dark and wet.

Welcome home, Seraphina, "the man said. He walked toward her, and for the first time in her life, she felt the terrifying, absolute certainty that her death was not just coming it had already happened. He tapped the tip of the pen against the contract that suddenly appeared in his other hand. It is time to sign the final page and settle the debt of your blood.