Chapter

And I did. I did remember. With a growl of rage, I pushed against him as hard as I could, sending him stumbling backwards. When he grinned and came at me again, I did the only thing I could and I swung my arm out in an arc and hit him square in the mouth, hating myself for hitting that face I adored but knowing now that this was all nothing but a lie.

"You're not him," I hissed. "You're not Garrick. He would never do this. He would rather die all over again than force himself on me." The thing that was masquerading as Garrick pressed the back of its hand against its split mouth, a mouth filled with too many razor sharp teeth, and studied the blood on its skin with the blackest of eyes that glistened malevolently, reminding me of the blackness of the mirror-frame. Dabbing its tongue at the cut, it smacked its lips together grotesquely as it tasted its own blood, making me want to retch to know that tongue had been inside my mouth.