I grind to a halt, my wings scraping the edges of the tunnel.
“You’re afraid,” I say, dread creeping along my spine. I’ve never heard his voice like this. Not when he was ambushed byMalach’s guys or when we were attacked at my apartment. If Luca is scared...
I gasp. “Did something happen to Alistair or Ciprian?”
Luca cocks his head, his eyes glowing yellow and metallic in the gloomy tunnel. I see my own wide eyes reflected in his. “Ali is fine, I think. I haven’t heard from him, but”—he sucks in a raspy breath—“you just fought a fucking veydra.”
“I don’t know what that is,” I say. “Is that why he looked like Roscoe?”
Luca groans. “The veydran are bad news. Mimics, mirrors—whatever you want to call them—they’re death in disguise. When they lock on a target, they don’t rest until they’re dead.”
“And I’m his target?” I demand. “Why? How do you know this?”
“They’re the boogeymen of my home realm,” he whispers, urging me to keep moving.
We step out of the tunnel into the deserted locker room. I sag against him, relieved that the other fighters have gone home.
“What can they do?” I whisper, replaying all the crazy things that happened during the fight. They didn’t seem real, but living on the Fringes has taught me that the universe is crowded and nothing is impossible.
“They’re shifters, but they don’t have an animal or monster form, only what they can copy from others. Thankfully, there aren’t many of them left.” Luca runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “But that’s not important right now! You’ve got to come with me!”
With the noise of the crowd muffled by the heavy metal door, I slide my hands to both of his cheeks. “Breathe, Luca,” I say. “I beat him; he’s not all-powerful.”
“But he could be anyone. Hiding behind any face you recognize.”
I stiffen, studying the familiar lines of Luca’s face. His lip ringis exactly right, but he’s not chewing on it... The itch consumes my entire body.
“How many times do you knock?” I whisper.
“What?” He blinks at me. “Celine, we’ve got to go!”
I drop my hands from his cheeks like I’ve been burned. “When you come see me, how many times do you knock?”
The confusion on his face is exactly right, from the crinkling of the skin around his eyes to the number of lines that pop up on his forehead. But he doesn’t answer.
“It’s not a hard question, Luca... or should I say Second Coming?”
He drops the confused act and grins, the expression wholly unfamiliar and horrifying on Luca’s face. “Good girl,” he purrs, breathing deeply through his nose. “So beautiful, so challenging.”
Someone pounds on the metal door. “Baby!”
I shove fake Luca. He barely moves. “What the fuck do you want?”
“To deliver a message,” he says.
From the corner of my eye, I watch the door dent from the force of Luca’s beating. Did Resker lock me in here with this asshole? Keeping my focus on the threat in front of me, I lift my chin defiantly. “You’re wasting my time.”
He cracks his neck. Seeing the strange mannerism on my boyfriend’s body sends a shiver of revulsion through me, but I hold my ground.
“You’re brutal—just as he said you would be,” he murmurs. “I didn’t believe him. After all, most parents have a way of not seeing their children clearly.”
I retreat two steps involuntarily. If my father sent him...
My enemy studies my retreat with unveiled interest, and I curse myself for letting the instinctual reaction slip past my guard. His face ripples, silver lines ticking across his skin until Luca’s face is wiped away and replaced by my worst nightmare.
Cruel brown eyes. A hard stare. The copy is perfect, but it lacks the true menace my father oozes. Calm... until he isn’t. I remind myself this isn’t him. If it were, I would tear his head from his body and mount it on a cactus for the vultures to devour.
I force my lips to curl into an amused smirk.
