Reflected: A Mirrorland Novel, #2

By Majanka Verstraete

When Alison was stuck in Mirrorland, all she wanted was to be alive again. Now she’s gotten her revenge by inhabiting Piper's body and trapping her behind the mirror. But pretending to be Piper is more difficult than she imagined it would be. On top of that, the borders between Mirrorland and the real world are crumbling. Danger abounds, demons appear in high school, and if wasn’t for the help of a new mysterious guy, Alison might not have escaped. But there’s more to this guy than meets the eye, and she’s determined to find out what, especially since it might be related to her own supernatural problems. Meanwhile, Piper tries to convince the Horseman of Death to help her return to her own world, but he's got his own hidden agenda, which may cause more serious risks. Can Piper find a way to restore the balance before both worlds collide?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
• Release date: Aug 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781939590428

Majanka Verstraete

Author Majanka Verstraete has written more than twenty unique works of fiction. A native of Belgium, Majanka’s novels explore the true nature of monsters: the good, the bad, and just about every species in between. Her young adult books include the acclaimed Mirrorland (YA Dark Fantasy) and Angel of Death (YA Paranormal) series of novels. At Firefly Hill Press, Majanka is currently publishing a YA shifter series with a fresh take on fierce female detectives called THE ADVENTURES OF MARISOL HOLMES. When she’s not writing, Majanka is probably playing World of Warcraft or catching up with the dozens of TV series she’s addicted to.

Book preview

Reflected

(Mirrorland #2)

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Majanka Verstraete

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this stripped book.

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Reflected

Copyright © 2015 Majanka Verstraete

All rights reserved.

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ISBN: (print) 978-1-939590-43-5

(ebook) 978-1-939590-42-8

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Inkspell Publishing

5764 Woodbine Ave.

Pinckney, MI 48169

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Edited By Rie Langdon

Cover art By Najla Qamber

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This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated

Dedication

For my Mom. You always inspire me to keep on writing.

Prologue

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Piper had died and gone to Hell. That sounded like the only logical explanation as to why a four-legged, three-headed monster, engulfed in flames, and easily five times her size, was chasing her.

She ran for her life. The flames nearly torched her back, so she increased her speed. Drops of sweat dripped down her forehead and her breathing became ragged and difficult. I can’t go on like this much longer.

Zigzagging helped. The monster was a lot bigger than she, and hence it had trouble maneuvering, changing directions. However, that also meant that it only had to take one jump where she had to take five or six steps.

The land around her was barren and empty. Besides her and the monster, which eerily resembled the three-headed hellhound protecting the portal to the Underworld in the Greek myths, she didn’t spot anyone or anything else. Her screams echoed all around her, but nobody could hear her.

The fire caught her shirt, scorching the fabric. Instinctively, Piper let herself fall down on the ground and rolled around, trying to extinguish the flames. When she looked up, the monster’s gigantic mouth loomed over her. The creature’s breath stank terribly, like rot and decay, and she wondered how many humans he’d eaten before, and if the nauseating smell came from their rotting flesh inside its belly.

She screamed when the enormous teeth reached for her and gnawed at her. Panicking, she protected her face with her hands. The monster bit her so hard he tore her skin off, and she cried out in pain. Blood covered her mangled hand.

With her free hand, she desperately searched for something—anything—she could use against the monster. But she found nothing but dry, unwelcoming soil around her. No rocks, no weapons.

A noise erupted from the pitch-black, starless sky above. It sounded like the flapping of wings. Fire lit up the night and a dragon appeared.

The dog barked and whined, and cowered away from the terror in the sky. There goes my theory about all things evil working together.

Seconds later, the hound sprinted away, howling at the dark.

Piper breathed out, her heart rate slowing down for just a second. But then the dragon rocketed down to the earth, a spectacle of light and fire. The closer it came, the larger it looked, until it was easily ten times the other monster’s size. The dragon launched at the hound, grabbed it between its teeth, and devoured it in a matter of seconds, swallowing it in one bite.

Keep still, Piper. Don’t you dare move or this thing will eat you too. Now that it had annihilated its primary target, the dragon slouched forward. It folded its wings and lay down on the ground, almost as if taking a nap, with its claws only a few feet away from her. Piper’s heart rate picked up again, and her palms grew sweaty. Are dragons light sleepers? If the animal went to sleep right now, she could make a run for it, but it if woke up before she could escape, it could tear her apart the way it had the hound.

At least it would be a quick death.

The wound on Piper’s hand stung, but she didn’t dare to move it, or even lift up her head to look at the damage. Even the rise of her chest, with every breath she took, worried her. What if the dragon noticed? If she stayed still, the dragon might think she was dead, but if she moved, the creature would know she was still alive.

Her breath stuck in her throat when a figure, completely dressed in black, jumped off the behemoth’s back. It looked small and insignificant next to the colossal animal.

Piper stayed quiet, afraid to move. Please let him walk away. Or think I’m dead, or something.

The cloaked man paused next to her, shattering her hopes that he might not spot her. She couldn’t see his eyes, hidden behind a mask of darkness, but she could feel them on her, taking her in.

Will he kill me? Will I die here, all on my own?

The man bent to his knees. His green eyes reflected the faint light of this otherworldly place. Those eyes...they look so familiar.

When he pulled his mask down, a cold realization flowed over her. Piper’s mouth fell open, her gaze transfixed on his. Reality unfolded in front of her, turning her entire world upside down. Bile rose in her throat and she gagged, fighting the urge to throw up. All she had ever believed, and feared, was coming true.

Hello, Piper. I’d say it’s nice to see you, but considering the circumstances, I’ll leave that out.

Her lips were too shocked to form a single syllable.

Dad? she squeaked after an eternity. Is it really you?

The man nodded, and then reached out to touch her uninjured hand. He squeezed it lightly, just the way her father had done a million times before.

You’re alive? The question practically ripped her apart. He’d been alive this whole time. But why hadn’t he told her, then? Why hadn’t he come home?

Not in the technical sense of the word. But in some ways, I’m alive, yes.

Piper slowly regained her senses. She leaned on her good arm to sit up straight, without taking her eyes off her father. He looked the same as he always had—a stubble on his chin, brown hair peeking out from under the hood, the tiny scar above his lip. But he acted differently, with a confidence she’d never seen before, a power she’d never known he had. He’d always been a studious man, a bookworm. Now he had tamed a dragon—a dragon, of all things.

We have to take care of your hand. He helped her up, staring at the injury.

The shock of her dad’s appearance had made Piper forget all about the pain, but as he pointed it out, the wound throbbed where the monster’s teeth had sliced her.

Where are we? she asked, looking around. And since when do you know how to fly on dragons?

Her dad chuckled, the sound so familiar yet so out of place here, in this world. She’d never expected to see him again, except in Heaven, maybe. But not here, not in this desolate, abandoned place where strange monsters roamed and dragons ruled the sky. Not in a place without stars or a sun.

You know it as Purgatory, her dad said. But we call it the Mirrorland.

Chapter One

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Alison had trouble focusing on the assignment she was supposed to write. Not only did she care next to nothing about the closure of the monasteries in the mid-sixteenth century, the subject of that day’s essay, but paying attention, when she thought she’d spotted a demon hiding in the shadows, proved next to impossible. The history classroom fit the course, with layers of dust grazing most of the furniture, and yellow maps lining the walls. Shadows stretched out in the corners of the room, and one of them resembled the shape of a small, impish demon.

Come on, Alison, get a grip. Shadows are just shadows. Demons belong in the Mirrorland, not in the real world.

Ever since she’d come back, she suffered from nightmares, each one more terrible than the last. In the waking world, she had left the Mirrorland, but in her dreams she was still stuck in that haunting, frightening place in between. In her nightmares, she remained a spirit without goals or aims, a mindless, wandering ghost, forever on the run from whatever demon wanted to kill her next. She’d seen more demons than described in Dante’s Divina Comedia down there. Monsters that wanted to eat her alive, monsters that wanted nothing more than to torture her for years on end, or burn her in the pits of Hell. While she’d stayed in the Mirrorland, she hadn’t dreamed. Dreams probably didn’t exist there, because dreams gave people hope. The purpose of the Mirrorland was to take all hope away, making it a place worse than Hell. At least in Hell, you had pain. She’d rather be in eternal pain than ever feel so hopeless again.

Alison bit her lower lip and tried to think of something intelligent to write down about the rise of Anglicism in the England of the sixteenth century. Her mind stayed blank, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the shadow behind the chalkboard, a black spot that seemed to increase in size the longer she stared at it.

Get over it, she urged herself. The demon isn’t real. Demons don’t exist here.

But then the nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her that ghosts coming back from the dead to inhabit other people’s bodies weren’t supposed to exist, either.

When she’d seen her best friend, Piper, make out with Joey, her supposed boyfriend, a little over three months earlier, Alison had freaked out. Succumbing to her emotions, she’d thrown herself off Dead End’s Rock and drowned in the merciless sea. When she’d died, she didn’t wake up in Heaven—as she’d hoped—or in Hell, as she’d feared. Instead, she woke up in a world in between, the Mirrorland, or Purgatory. She’d been chased by demons of all varieties and sizes, one more vicious than the other. The only reason she’d even bothered to fight was so she could take vengeance on Piper. Vengeance for what she’d done to her. She’d grabbed Alison’s heart, ripped it out, and torn it apart without as much as a second thought. She had spit on their friendship and trust, and her betrayal hurt a thousand times more than Joey’s had.

When a demon the size of a skyscraper had chased her, a man had come to her rescue. Dressed in a black cape from head to toe, riding on a horse looking like it had come straight out of the fires of Hell, she’d thought he was Death incarnate at first. But he introduced himself as the Horseman of Death, one of the four riders of the apocalypse, and the person in charge of the Mirrorland. He decided which souls moved on to Hell, and which ones stayed in Purgatory for the rest of eternity.

The Horseman had given her the tools she needed to get out of that hellish world. He’d shown her how to use her anger, her need for revenge, and how to draw power from those raw emotions. He’d told her how to cross the border between worlds—her spirit only, at first. But as she grew angrier, she learned how to cross over completely, framing Piper to think she was still alive. She’d chased her former best friend through a parking lot, appeared in her bedroom in the middle of the night until Piper believed the mirror’s curse wanted to destroy her next. She’d even gone so far as to make Piper believe the person reaching out to her from the mirror was her dad, who passed away several years before. And then, when Piper least expected it, Alison had reached for her from the Mirrorland, grasping her throat and pulling her inside the mirror.

It had taken her all her strength, but it had been worth it. Piper’s soul had been sent to that terrifying place, while Alison’s soul could now inhabit her former best friend’s body. They’d switched positions now, and Piper deserved everything she got. If she hadn’t betrayed her like that, Alison would’ve never killed herself to begin with.

At first, it had felt strange to be in someone else’s body. She’d thought it would grow on her, since she’d been Piper’s best friend since forever. If anyone could impersonate Piper, it was her.

She still had some of her Poltergeist powers, which surprised her. She could make doors open and shut by themselves. Lamps flickered when her mood changed. Sometimes she moved objects without wanting to. But impersonating Piper, and controlling her powers at the same time, got harder and harder. Even now, in the classroom, she sensed her friend Marcy’s eyes on her, gazing at her and wondering what was wrong with her. Fidgeting in her chair, Alison couldn’t channel the careless confidence Piper had. She always felt as if people were staring at her for whatever she did wrong, whereas Piper never cared much about other people’s opinions. That wasn’t the only problem, though. She could respond to every sentence the way she knew Piper would, but she could never quite catch the same tone of voice. She was never interested, excited, or intrigued enough. If she had to count how many times one of her friends had asked her if she was all right during the last month, she’d need more than both her hands.

The more they mentioned it, the more nervous she became. She’d begun biting her nails. Her hair started falling out. And in the back of her mind, the question nagged at her if it was just stress tormenting her, or if Piper’s body was deteriorating, slowly withering and dying, while Alison’s soul remained stuck inside. If Piper’s body died, what would happen to Alison’s soul? Would she stay cemented in the lifeless shell, forever captured in a tomb made of flesh and bone? Or would her soul let go and move on, like it had when she died? Would she be sent back to the Mirrorland?

According to Angele Renée, the demon who’d cursed the mirror Alison had used to trick her friend, what Alison had done would throw her out of Heaven and Hell forever. At the time, she hadn’t cared. Now, with each passing day, that feeling in the pit of her stomach, that something wasn’t quite right, continued to grow. Maybe she’d made a mistake. Maybe her actions had done more damage than she thought possible. Today hadn’t been the first time she’d seen the shape of a demon. The imps haunted her, at school, at home.

Memories. Nothing but memories. They’re not here. They can’t be here.

When the Horseman of Death had told her how to cross the borders between life and death, he’d forgotten to hand her the memo that said she’d go completely insane in a matter of months. Or the how to survive your senior year if you’re a vengeful spirit stuck in your ex-best friend’s body guide. She could certainly use that now.

A hard knock on the classroom door hurled Alison back to real life. Startled, she gazed up. She didn’t miss Marcy’s curious look, riddled with suspicion, almost expecting her to screw up.

The door opened seconds after the knock and a boy she’d never seen before stepped inside the classroom.

She shot him a quick glance, and then focused back on her essay. Whoever this boy was, he was none of her business. She had enough on her mind already, wasn’t going to worry about a wayward student who probably messed up the classroom number.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the boy step forward and hand Mrs. Klutcher a note. The teacher, a haughty and bossy woman in her early fifties, thin as a stick and with more wrinkles than an ancient map, lifted her eyebrows while she read, not showing much enthusiasm. The last time Mrs. Klutcher had shown interest anything or anyone besides herself probably dated back to before the first World War. The teacher gave the boy a small nod and then turned toward the class.

Everyone, this is Dean Gregory. He’ll join us for the rest of the school year, Mrs. Klutcher said in a monotone voice. Dean, is there something you’d like to say? She asked it in the pitch one would ask about the weather.

Alison sat up straight in her chair. A new student? This late in the year? It was already halfway through November. They had new students every year, but most of them enrolled in September, or early October. While the school had to accept students year-round, students rarely showed up later than that.

Hey, everyone, the boy said. He sounded casual, as if used to talking to crowds, or simply didn’t care about their opinion. I’m Dean. I recently moved here from California, and I’m looking forward to going to school here, although the weather is kind of disappointing.

This earned him several smiles from the other pupils. He talked with an ease and confidence that left Alison baffled. She got always nervous when she was called in front of the class, and most new students turned bright red by the time they finished their introduction speeches. Dean sounded like