Page 32 of Not Today, Satan
“You finally calling me Nate is thanks enough.” He surveys the room. “But I obviously spoke too soon. The mirrorscanaffect us.”
I rub my eyes. “I think it’s a trick of the light. All this flickering is giving me a headache.”
“Yeah, I hate how headaches make me grow tails.” He combs his fingers through his hair, and a lock escapes and settles over his eye. “The good news is, I’m pretty sure I found the way out of here. Follow me.”
Nate plows through the gap between two mirrors on the left before I can stop him.
“Wait!” I reach for him but snap my hand back as the panes of glass he passed through merge into a single image of me. My fingers slip over the mirror as I try to wrench them apart with a grunt. They don’t budge, and I drop my hands and swallow.
“Nate?” My puzzled reflection stares back as his name echoes around me. I’m alone in here. And even though Father will be looking for me, no one would think to check this lot. If they did, the likelihood of them finding me in the maze is low. Even Nate could be gone forever.
“Nate?” I call again, my voice cracking. “Nathan Reynolds? Come out now. This isn’t funny.”
“Devicaaaaaa…” a voice answers. A chill climbs up my spine. That’s not Nate. That’s my voice.
My legs tremble, but I’m unable to move. I clamp my hands over my ears and shut my eyes. It will go away if I ignore it.
“Deeeeeevicaaaaaa…” My hands do nothing to muffle the sound. It’s as though the voice is coming from inside my head.
Goose bumps rise on my flesh, and my knees threaten to give out. I shake my head and call out, “I’m not listening!”
“Devicaaa… Look at me. Look at yourself. Look at what we’re becoming.”
“No.” I speak through clenched teeth. “I know what you’re doing. I’m not falling for it.”
I have to find Nate. The tail went away when he was with me. He’ll make this go away too.
Come on, Devica, move.
Sweat beads the back of my neck as I grit my teeth and raise my foot against whatever force is trying to keep me planted to the floor. One step takes all of my energy, but I press on. A second step. Huzzah. Arms outstretched, I inch forward, crying out as my palms ram into a mirror.
I walk my fingers across the cool glass until I find the edge of the mirror. Maneuvering in the darkness, I make it down another hallway without bumping into anything and release the breath I held the entire way. Okay, I can do this. The voice is already a memory.
“Devicaaaa… Open your eyes. See what we truly are.”
“Screw off,” I bellow. “I’m not listening.”
I cover my ears again, and my forehead slams into a mirror. Staggering backward, I fall onto my butt with a thud.
“Ow. Shit.” I bring my palm to my head and open my eyes to check for blood. Nothing. Small favors. But I peek at my reflection to be sure. There’s something on my forehead all right, but it’s not blood. My veins go cold as ice.
“What the—?” I crawl to the mirror and suck in a breath.
Horns.
Shiny and black, the pointed objects protrude out of my forehead and come to aU-shaped tip above my scalp. It’s a good thing I haven’t eaten much today, or I’d be heaving.
There’s nothing there. This is like the tail. It’s just the mirrors.
I reach up to touch them, and the breath whooshes out of me as my fingers encounter a surface as smooth as marble. I skim one of them and press the pad of my finger into the tip, grimacing as pain pricks my skin. This isn’t like the tail at all. This is real.
There’s no way. I’m not growing horns. Not yet. Not ever. Father promised that, since I wasn’t born with them, I’d never have them.
I drop my hand and scoot back on my butt. The tail from earlier curls around my leg and lashes the top of my foot. It’s as solid as the horns now. It was never a trick. The trick was it vanishing when Nate looked for it.
My breathing picks up, my heart matching its pace.
This isn’t possible. I don’t have a tail. I don’t have horns.
