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Monster In the Mirror




  For everyone with a dark side. And a green thumb.

  CONTENTS

  About The Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Other Books By Kristen Painter

  MONSTER IN THE MIRROR:

  Shadowvale, Book Six

  * * *

  Copyright © 2022 Kristen Painter

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-941695-78-4

  * * *

  Published in the United States of America

  Shadowvale isn’t your typical small town America. The sun never shines, the gates decide who enters, magic abounds, and every resident bears some kind of curse.

  * * *

  For Isadora Graham, Shadowvale seems like a dream come true. A safe haven where she can hide from the darkness that lives within her, and hopefully, keep everyone else from finding out about it too. She needs this kind of place where she’ll be left alone. Where no one will realize who she really is.

  * * *

  Dr. Henry Jekyll, or rather a monstrous part of him, makes Shadowvale a more dangerous place for everyone, no matter how hard he tries to stop that side of himself from emerging. He’s doing everything in his power to control it, but control is hard, and solutions don’t come easy. Fortunately, the town understands he needs to be left alone.

  * * *

  Until somehow things go wrong, and he gets a neighbor. Izzy is incredibly nice and for her own safety, Henry knows he has to tell her what everyone else already knows. That he’s a monster. But he only ends up shocking her and turning her against him. Then another disturbing encounter makes her understand he was telling the truth, and that they are so very much alike.

  * * *

  When they join forces, their collaboration feels like a match made in heaven. Except for the part where the town is being targeted. And Izzy seems like the one causing all the trouble.

  * * *

  Can Henry battle his own demons in time to save Izzy? Or will the monster in the mirror be the ruin of them both? Only time, and love, will tell.

  * * *

  * * *

  Isadora Graham stopped her car a few feet from the wrought iron blocking her path and peered through the windshield. The imposing gates were rusted and overgrown with vines that also covered the thick stone columns that secured the gates, but wrought iron wasn’t flammable, and those vines looked too green to burn. That was good.

  She pushed her sunglasses back onto her head. This had to be the place. Although it didn’t look much like it had on the website. She exited the car and walked up to the gates to see if there was an intercom or something that would connect her to a person who could grant her passage.

  As aged as the gates were, as overgrown and in the midst of being reclaimed by the forest as they were, there was a decaying beauty to the old metal structure. The name of the town beyond the gates, Shadowvale, was still visible in the arch at the top.

  Izzy stared up at the letters. If the gates looked like this, what shape was the town in? Did the town even still exist? Something buzzed by her head. She half-heartedly swatted at it. The bugs would really be out when the sun went down in a few hours.

  A sinking feeling filled her. Had her impulsive decision to escape here been a mistake? Biting her lip, she glanced back at her Pathfinder. The SUV was packed with her possessions, such as they were. She’d been so enthralled with the idea of this exclusive gated community, which was how the website billed it, that at the first spark of trouble, she put a deposit down on an apartment. A few days later, she’d given up her lease, packed everything, and started her drive. She hadn’t really had much of choice, though. Staying where she was had no longer been an option.

  A long, frustrated sigh escaped her lips. Going back wasn’t possible, because there was nowhere to go back to. Especially not when nosy Mrs. Winthrop had begun asking the kinds of questions that Izzy lived in fear of.

  The kinds of questions that told her Mrs. Winthrop had suspicions about who Izzy really was. And if that came out, Izzy’s life would be unlivable. Even worse, the dark feelings that simmered inside her might become something more than feelings.

  So Izzy had done the only thing she could think of. She’d run. She’d only found Shadowvale a few weeks ago. She’d been looking for a backup plan. Backup plans were everything. But she hadn’t realized she’d need one so soon.

  The timing had seemed right. Fortuitous, even.

  Now? Izzy wasn’t so sure.

  She ran a hand through her dark waves and sighed again before approaching the gates. There was no intercom that she could see. No latch to lift or button to push. She grabbed hold of the gates and gave them a shake, causing a little shower of rusty flakes to fall. The gates creaked in protest but didn’t budge.

  This had been a monumentally stupid idea.

  So stupid, in fact, that she could feel the darkness in her swirling. Anger looking for a way out.

  She tipped her head back and focused on the blue sky above. Funny how the cloud cover seemed to start right above the gates. She inhaled and exhaled the damp, green air and reminded herself that she had lived this long without giving in to the darkness. She could go another day.

  She would go another day.

  She would not become like him. She would not let her genes define her.

  That was the whole reason she was here. To hide from the truth, yes. But also to escape the inevitable. To escape the DNA that ran in her veins. That had to be possible, right? People all over the world were doing it, weren’t they? Becoming more than they were born to be? Or, perhaps, becoming less?

  That was one of those things she wasn’t sure of. Was it better to overachieve or underachieve in her particular situation?

  Either way, she wanted to take the path that led her away from his legacy. Far, far away.

  She’d already taken steps. Changed her name. Darkened her sandy-brown hair. Moved here. She frowned at the gates. Although this step didn’t seem like it was going to happen.

  How had she gotten it so wrong? Was it possible she’d come to the wrong entrance? That could be. This might not be the right way in. That made perfect sense, actually. Of course it did. She’d followed her GPS here, but those things were always sending you on an old route or down a side road or to a back way that no one used anymore.

  She should have known, because the road to get here had been overgrown with weeds, the trees alongside it draped in moss, branches reaching down as if nothing ever disturbed them. A few had scraped the roof of her car.

  But figuring out if she was in the right place was easy enough. She searched the browser on her phone for the Shadowvale website where she’d done so much reading. She’d even secured her apartment through it. Filled out the form, paid the deposit, and someone had mailed her a key, for crying out loud. Everything about the site had been so helpful and user-friendly.

  Now all she could find was a 404 Page Not Found error. What the … how was that possible? She checked the signal on her phone. She had bars. It wasn’t a connection problem.

  She let out a groan. This was infuriating. The darkness bubbled up.

  She exhaled. She’d figure something out. The sun would be down soon. She had no choice but to find a hotel for the night and make a new plan. She headed back to her car and opened the door. The sad thing about it all was that this really was the place she wanted to be. Shadowvale had seemed so perfect. Like a genuine answer to her problem.

  A place to escape the expectations and entitlement of modern society.

  So much for that.

  As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she heard a low creaking sound. She l
ooked up.

  The gates were opening. They also didn’t look quite so old or rusty, either, but that was obviously just a trick of the light. Someone must have seen her. She leaned forward, looking for a camera, but with all the overgrowth, it was impossible to find. She waved anyway, hoping whoever had helped her out understood she was saying thanks.

  She turned the key, started the engine, and drove forward. Not too fast, as the gates were still opening, but not too slowly, either. She didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

  She pulled through the gates, and once her Pathfinder was clear, they started to close behind her. She took her gaze off the rearview mirror and focused on the road ahead. It was surprisingly well maintained.

  It led straight ahead, so she followed, not entirely sure what she’d find at the end. The road took a sharp turn, and as she drove around it, a town appeared ahead. A town that didn’t look the least bit like it had been abandoned.

  She smiled. She’d obviously come in the wrong way. She’d probably find out soon enough that whatever entrance she’d used had long ago been discarded in favor of a new entrance.

  Too bad, though. The gates sure were pretty.

  She slowed, taking in the place that was going to be her new home. It looked welcoming enough, although she didn’t plan to get too involved. She’d need a job, of course, but she’d already learned that hers was a life best lived privately. Sad, but it was what it was.

  Still nice to see such a thriving Main Street lined with all sorts of shops. There was a bakery, a bookstore, a coffee shop, some clothing boutiques, a candle place, a real variety of stores. Including some she wasn’t instantly sure about. Bewitching Broomsticks? Varina’s Potions and Spells. Professor Durrant’s Impossible Tech.

  Streetlamps flickered on as she drove through, making her suddenly aware that the setting sun was blocked by cloud cover, although there was still a hint of orange and pink visible through the haze along the horizon.

  As much as she would have loved to park and explore, she really wanted to find her new apartment and get her stuff inside before it got much darker.

  She checked to be sure the GPS was still set to her new address. It was. The computerized voice directed her to stay on the current road a bit farther until it turned into a second downtown sort of area with more shops. Not long after that, it had her turn onto a side street and again into an alley. There were apartments above the stores, she realized. She liked that a lot. Liked how close she’d be to some of the shopping and the downtown area.

  Her apartment number was 311. She found it pretty quickly and parked as close as she could, although she wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave the car there. She slung her purse strap across her body, made sure she had the apartment key and her phone, then opened the back of the SUV and took as much as she could carry.

  That turned out to be her big suitcase, a large duffel bag, and a small tote of nonperishable food items. She shut the hatch and lugged everything up the steps, which led to a shared landing for two apartments. Hers was the second one. Another set of steps further down led to two more apartments.

  It was nice to only have neighbors on either side of her. If those apartments were occupied. She guessed the one before hers was, number 211. The door had a fancy keypad lock. The kind of thing someone would install after they moved in.

  She set her things down by the door and unlocked it with her key. The apartment had been listed on the Shadowvale site as partially furnished. She’d seen pictures of it online and hoped everything was still in it as it had been shown.

  Picking her bags up again, she went in. There was enough natural light from the three windows on the streetside wall to see, but that light was dying quickly. She found a switch in the small kitchen and turned it on. The kitchen took up the farthest wall. It was basically a row of upper and lower cabinets with a small island in front that held the sink and a nice amount of work space. The cabinets were white, the countertops pale gray granite. Very nice and more than enough room for her.

  The small table and two chairs that had been in the photos remained, thankfully. The kitchen looked out onto the living room space, which featured a long, tweed-covered sofa and a television console but no TV. That was fine. She’d brought hers with her. It wasn’t anything big. A mere thirty-two inches, but it served her needs.

  She decided to inspect the rest of the place before going back down for more stuff. Off of the living room was a little alcove made up of three doors. The first was a coat closet, the second was the bedroom, and the third was the bathroom.

  The coat closet was a nice bonus. The bathroom was reasonably sized with a long vanity, single sink, and a tub-shower combination that would suit her just fine. The whole thing was done in white with brushed-nickel fixtures.

  The bedroom had a closet that ran the length of the wall that adjoined the apartment next door. She liked that. It would add some insulation from potential noise. A pair of windows looked down onto the street. Across from them was an old, dark wood dresser that looked big enough to hold all of her clothes. Between the windows was a queen-size bed. Just a mattress, box spring, and frame, but that was perfect. All of that looked very new.

  No nightstands, but she could live without those for a bit.

  The walls throughout were pale dove gray. The floor looked like weathered planks of wood. She crouched down to feel it. The wood was actually ceramic tile. She smiled as she stood up, pleased with everything. This would work very well for her. She exhaled, and some of the tension she’d been holding finally left.

  Maybe things were going to be all right after all.

  She went back down to get the rest of her things, feeling much less like she was about to fall off a cliff than she had been just a half an hour ago.

  At the sound of unusual noises, Henry came out of the bedroom where he’d been about to change, looked out his living room window and down into the alley. There was a silver SUV parked there. It wasn’t a car he’d seen in the alley before. Then there was movement on the stairs that led up to his apartment.

  A woman was headed down to the car. Dark, wavy hair, trim figure, medium build, nothing too remarkable. As she went, she clicked the key fob in her hand. The Pathfinder’s hatch lifted, revealing boxes and bags and some random household items. A plant stand, a narrow shelving unit, a collapsible stepladder.

  He was getting a neighbor. He blinked, trying to remember the last time he’d had one, but it hadn’t happened in a long, long time. The last one had moved out nearly ten years ago. Maybe more. He couldn’t really remember.

  The town seemed to know he wasn’t suited for neighbors. Until now. So what had changed? He certainly hadn’t.

  He studied the woman again. His new neighbor. His eyes narrowed. Depending on the kind of person she was, this could be … less than ideal for him.

  He frowned. Then sighed. Then decided he’d better make friends. Friends forgave more than enemies did, and he was more likely to need forgiveness than anything else. It was good he was still in his scrubs. That instantly made him more likable. People generally trusted medical professionals and first responders, considering them more trustworthy and good-natured compared to the average stranger.