Mirror Image: Shattered Mirror Prophecies Book 1

by Bailey James

  “And these are the same guys that talked to you that made you want to leave, right?”

  Again, he nods. “That’s what they called themselves.”

  “And the others talked to a group of people with the same name?”

  Cindy answers this time. “You’ve made your point. In all reality, it probably is the same group, but maybe there’s nothing to worry about. We don’t know if they’re dangerous.”

  I stop pacing to spin around and gape at her. “Two women have died!” I yell, unable to keep my temper reigned any longer. “Two men have run away because they were nervous—if not scared—and the one person who didn’t was placed somewhere he couldn’t cause a problem. There’re countless others we know nothing about. They could all be dead for all we know. And you’re telling me you don’t know if they’re dangerous?”

  Cindy rushes over and places her hand on my arm. I shake her off and cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at her.

  “Lily, calm down. Getting all worked up isn’t going to help you. Or Jackson,” she says, her voice the epitome of calm. It makes me want to hit her. And that’s so not me. I’ve never hit, or thought about hitting, anyone in my life.

  I take a step back and take a few calming breaths, but it does nothing. I toss my hands up in the air instead and start pacing again. “Ugh! You’re telling me if it was Rowan, you’d just sit back and do nothing?” I practically hiss out that last word.

  “No, I’m not saying that. I’d probably be doing the same thing as you, but it’s not helping. And arguing amongst ourselves won’t either.”

  Ignoring her, I keep up my back-and-forth movements, forcing myself to calm down. She turns to Rowan.

  “There has to be something you found on them that made you want to leave. We never really talked about it, but you crossed right after that. What made you want to leave?”

  His eyes follow me. “My instincts.”

  I stay until after dark, and then leave only because I know my parents are probably wondering where I am. But I drag home every single file Rowan had. I’m not going to let anything happen to Jackson. So that means going over each and every paper with a magnifying glass and a fine-toothed comb.

  It’s after nine when I pull into my driveway, but the only car here is the one I am driving. “I wonder everyone is,” I mumble. Shrugging the tote bag full of files over my shoulder, I walk toward the house, trying to assimilate what I know so far.

  Which, in all reality, is practically nothing. Okay, so women have died. It doesn’t mean that this Brotherhood did it. They could have both been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Both of them? rational me asks.

  “Coincidence,” I mutter, opening the door and frowning when I realize it was left unlocked.

  There is no such thing as coincidence, I think as I stare at the door. I must have been in a hurry when I left. I shrug and jog up the stairs.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I mumble, pushing the door to my room open.

  “Who are you talking to, Lily?” Ty’s voice comes from the direction of my bed, but it’s dark, and I can’t see him very well. His tone, however, tells me he’s pissed.

  I jump and press a hand to my speeding heart. “Ty! Hi! I didn’t see your car. How are you?” I ask, and flip the light switch on, pretending I can’t tell he’s angry.

  Light floods into my room. Ty’s perched on the edge of my bed, tossing something black back and forth between his hands. He’s wearing a black collared shirt and charcoal slacks. I wonder what the occasion is…was? He only dresses up when he absolutely has to.

  “I’m good,” he says. “How are you?” His voice is oddly devoid of emotion.

  I set my bag on the ground and push it out of the way of the door with my foot, trying to give myself a few seconds to calm my racing heart. I have the worst feeling about this.

  “Good, too. How was your day?” I ask, cautious. The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  “Eventful.”

  My eyes keep trying to wander over to the mirror, but I force myself to walk over to the bed and sit next to Ty without looking. “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I went to the mall today.”

  The way he says it makes my stomach drop. “Really? Me, too. I went with Leah and the girls.”

  “I know. I saw you.”

  I smile at him and place my hand beside his face, trying to get him to look at me, but he won’t. I swallow. “Yeah? Why didn’t you stop and say hi? I’d have loved to see you.”

  “Yeah, right.” He yanks my hand away, practically tossing it away from him.

  I fake a smile. “What do you mean, Ty? Of course, I would have.”

  “I doubt that, Lily. I doubt that very much.” His voice turns cold, and I have to suppress the shiver that wants to rack my body. I’ve never seen him this angry before.

  The bed squeaks as I bring a leg up onto the bed so I can face him, even if he won’t meet me. “Ty, what’s wrong? Why do you doubt it?”

  He stands and stalks around my room. “I heard you and Leah talking.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I swallow at the lump clogging my throat, threatening to choke me. “You did?”

  “Yeah.” He turns toward me, and my heart pinches when I meet his anguish-filled eyes. “Why, Lily? I thought you loved me.” His voice is barely above a whisper. He stops tossing the black thing and I see it appears to be a black jewelry box and my heart summersaults. “I was gonna…I wanted to ask…” He doesn’t finish, just looks at the box in his hand as if it’s a map and he’s lost.

  I look at the ground, my heart shredding in my chest as I realize what he’s trying to say. When I was with Jackson, I was so sure that breaking up with Ty was the best option, but now, face-to-face with him, knowing what he wanted to ask, I just want to yank him into my arms and kiss him all over his face and tell him everything. Explain how much I love him, but that I’m having feelings for Jackson, too, and I’m so fucking confused right now. But I can’t tell him any of that because there’s no way he’ll believe me.

  So, instead, I just say, “I’m sorry.”

  He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “So, you aren’t going to deny it?”

  Even though my heart is breaking, I look straight into his eyes. “No.”

  He stomps over and rests his hands on my shoulders. Still, his touch is gentle, and even though his eyes stare directly into mine, there’s only confusion and hurt in them.

  “Why?” he demands. I look away and don’t answer. How can I? He lifts my chin with his hand, his gaze bouncing between my eyes. “Why?”

  I swallow and close my eyes briefly before reopening them and telling as much of the truth as I can. “I don’t know why it’s happening. I’m sorry. I’m so confused right now. I wanted to tell you; I just didn’t know how.”

  “Well, now you don’t have to. You just let me know the hardest way possible. How long?”

  I frown at him. “Didn’t you hear?”

  He shakes his head. “I only heard you two talking about him. I thought, at first, she’d found someone new, but then I realized she was the one asking the questions. I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t. So, I laughed it off. I knew you’d never leave me. I thought we felt the same about each other. That’s why…” he trails off and glances at the box still clutched in his hand. “I figured you were talking about Hot Dog boy.” He sneers when he says it. “I’d thought it was funny. He was so obvious about his attraction, but you didn’t seem to notice. Or, at least, you had no interest and blew it off. So, I went on to do what I’d gone there to do.” He looks down at his clenched hand.

  “What were you there for?” I ask, even though I already know.

  He stares at me, his eyes a sea of turmoil. “I called you a little later to see if you’d go
out with me later. I had this whole evening planned, but you didn’t answer,” he says, obviously ignoring my question.

  I glance over at my phone that I’d forgotten on the floor. Even from here, I can see it vibrate. The sound is muffled from the pile of clothes it’s lying in.

  “So, I called Leah. She said you’d gone home hours before. She sounded weird, and that’s when I began to worry that there was more to it than I thought. I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. So, I came here, but obviously you weren’t here. I’ve been waiting here for hours.” He meets my eyes again. “You were with him, weren’t you?”

  I open my mouth to answer, but then hesitate. If I tell Ty the truth, he’ll tell my parents, and they’ll send me to the psychiatrist before I can blink. And that thought makes me sick, because I’ve seen enough movies and documentaries to know what happens after that. Even if I lie and say I’m not really seeing Jackson, they’ll know. Then they’ll admit me and then I’ll never get out. Worse than even that, I won’t be able to see Jackson again, and who knows what the hell would happen to him with that cult running around and him having no way to communicate with me. I have no doubt my parents would hospitalize me—if they thought it was for my own good—and I have no way of knowing if the cult is only on Jackson’s side. If I’m hospitalized, they may find me, too. Then what happens?

  “Lily, answer me!” Ty shouts, shaking me slightly and startling me out of my thoughts.

  Tyler has never shouted at me before, and that decides it for me. It’s not fair to keep him. As much as my heart wants me to pull him into my arms and tell him everything, I can’t do that. Regardless of what Jackson said about sharing, since I can’t tell Ty the truth, I can’t keep him. But I know Ty. I know he loves me and the only way he’ll walk away is if he thinks I want to be with someone else.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  His hands fall to his sides, and his breathing turns ragged. “Is this because of what I did the other day?”

  As much as I want to lie so he’ll go away and not dig into this too far, I can’t hurt him. Not like that. “No. Of course not. I told you that wasn’t your fault.”

  “Then why?”

  “I don’t know. It just happened.”

  He drops to his knees in front of me, taking my hands in his and rubbing them against his face, making tears burn my eyes at the pure agony in his.

  “Don’t do this,” he begs. “I love you. I’m sorry for whatever it is that I did to make you change your mind.”

  I force myself not to look away. “You didn’t do anything. It was me. All me.”

  “No, not all you. Him, too,” Ty hisses, and anger sparks behind his eyes. “You wouldn’t have done this on your own.”

  “Ty, he didn’t push me. I did this. I,” I close my eyes against the guilt and pain, pulling at my chest. “I chose him.”

  “I love you, Lily. Tell me what it is I can do to prove it. I don’t…I can’t lose you. Please.”

  A piece of my heart shatters with each plea he makes, but I straighten my shoulders and strengthen my voice. “There’s nothing you can do.” I look over his shoulder and see Jackson staring back at me. His eyes are as heartbroken as I feel, but his hands are clenched into fists, and his jaw is tight. I force myself to look back at Ty.

  “Just go, Ty. I-I,” I swallow the tears and lick my lips, forcing myself to say, “It’s over. I’m sorry.”

  Ty’s eyes shine for a second before they shutter, and a hardness slips over them. He pushes away from me and stomps to the door. “Fine.” He throws open the door and runs right into Alder, who peers into my room, directly at me. Whatever he sees has him glaring at Tyler.

  “What the hell did you do to my sister?” He grabs Ty by the collar.

  Ty brushes him away. “Nothing. She did it to me.”

  He rushes down the stairs, and Mom calls a greeting to him, which he ignores. Mom hurries up the stairs as Alder walks in and sits next to me on the bed, putting his arm around me.

  “What happened?” he asks gently.

  I stare straight ahead at Jackson. “I broke up with Ty.”

  Jackson lifts an eyebrow but is otherwise motionless.

  “Why?” Mom asks with a furrowed brow, confusion apparent on her face when Dad steps next to her.

  “It wasn’t working,” I say, trying to keep my voice clear and calm, but it wobbles at the end.

  Mom and Dad exchange a look before Mom enters the room. She kneels in front of me and places her palm on my knee.

  “Lily, sometimes things appear like they won’t work, but if you try hard enough, they turn out okay in the end.”

  A sob tries to force its way out of my mouth, but I swallow it and shake my head. “No. He…” I sigh. “…he doesn’t understand me. He never will.”

  Alder’s arm tightens around my waist.

  Mom sighs and exchanges a look with Dad, who says, “Why don’t you take a few days to think about it? If this about whatever you were fighting about the other day, just let it sit. I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I agree to make her go away. I know she thinks this is just one of those couple fights everyone has once in a while, and is just trying to make me feel better, but… “I’d like to be by myself right now.”

  My parents exchange another look, but Mom nods. “Of course. Alder, come on, leave your sister alone.”

  He hesitates before he, too, sighs, gives me a side hug, and gets off my bed. I keep my eyes on Jackson’s as my family leaves, shutting the door behind them and muttering amongst themselves.

  The minute the door shuts, I go to Jackson and sit on the ground, letting my tears fall. He crouches down and places his hand over mine. The glass warms where we touch. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he demands.

  I shake my head. “No. He’d never hurt me. I’m fine. Physically. I’m just hurting because I hurt him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I am too. There’s a Ty shaped whole in my heart, no amount of time is going to fill, but, in a way, I’m also…relieved. It feels coldhearted, but with Ty gone, I can spend as much time with Jackson as I want. And that also means I can research to my heart’s content and figure out how to find a way to get Jackson—and possibly his mother—on this side of the portal.

  “It’s fine.” I give him a sad smile, but I can’t stop the tears falling over my cheeks.

  “I’m glad, though,” he says after a moment, watching me carefully.

  I let out a watery laugh. “Me, too.” I sniff and run my sleeve across my face to dry my cheeks.

  We smile at each other, and he moves his hand as if to cup my face. I sigh when the mirror doesn’t so much as shimmer. I desperately want to feel his touch again.

  “I have a ton of information to go through, and I’ll need your help,” I tell him, after I get myself calm again.

  For days, I lock myself in my room and ignore any calls that are not from Rowan or Cindy. I spend every second of my time going through the papers, discussing what I know with Jackson, and doing my own research on the web. If I remember to change my clothes, it’s a good day.

  Jackson hasn’t been able to find out much more than me, except the Brotherhood is some kind of religious cult that sprung up about two-hundred years ago because of some prophecy or something. Not that we can find this stupid prophecy or anything, really. But the Brotherhood is a mix of most of the world’s—Jackson’s and mine—religions. But they don’t seem to follow any of their moral codes. There’s plenty of alleged murder and covetousness to go around.

  A few of its members have been involved in the breaking and entering and subsequent vandalism of influential politicians’ offices. Others have been indicted but never charged for the burning of the home of an outspoken activist on the rights of GECs. Unsubstantiated rumors of mysterious deaths that happen in and a
round the Brotherhood. There’s more, but nothing ever sticks. No matter what they do, they somehow find a way to wiggle out of any legal ramifications.

  The more I find out about the group, the more convinced I am that Jackson needs to come to my side. It’s safer over here. There doesn’t appear to be a crazy cult here, and Cindy and Rowan haven’t had any problems despite being fairly public about their situation.

  If they aren’t working for them, I think, but I quickly wave the thought away.

  Cindy and Rowan have been nothing but friendly, and no one has come knocking on my door. If Jackson’s slip-up taught me anything, it was that the Brotherhood doesn’t waste any time. However, considering their history, that also means if they’re concerned about Jackson knowing too much, they’ll snip him off easier than cutting a loose thread on a shirt.

  With that thought in mind, the two of us start focusing on trying to find a way to get him—and his mom, which may be impossible—over here. However, no matter what we try, he stays stuck. Both of us are exhausted and strung tighter than the strings on a guitar. On more than one occasion, I’ve fallen asleep on the floor beside the mirror. But, somewhat surprisingly, despite the constant strain on both of us, we never fight. In fact, the opposite appears to be true. The more time we spend together, the closer we get; and the closer we get, the harder we work, trying to find the solution.

  “You talked to Rowan last night, right?” Jackson says, tapping a sheaf of papers against his knee.

  “Yeah? Why?” I look over the rim of my glasses. I’ve run out of disposable contacts and have resorted to using my emergency pair of glasses to avoid having to go out and buy more. If we find the solution, I’ll have all the time in the world to get them. If not, I won’t need them. I won’t care.

  “Did he—?” He looks up and gives me this goofy-ass grin.

  “What?” I ask, laughing.

  His whole expression turns soft. “You.”

  “What about me?” Heat creeps over my cheeks.