"A magical construct made from shadow and blood. It can mimic appearance and magical signature perfectly." Maren traced the edge of the page, her shadows curling around her fingers. "It was meant as a defensive measure during the witch trials, a way to create a decoy. But if someone found it and corrupted the binding, well…"
"They could use it to frame you." Tristan finished. "Make it look like you're causing incidents when you're not even present."
"Exactly. And it would explain the secondary signatures you found, the ones that feel wrong. The doppelgänger isn't natural magic. It's constructed, artificial, painted on like yousaid." Maren looked up at him. "My mother mentioned hiding something before she died. I thought she meant documents or money, but she kept talking about water that has memory. Moonmirror Lake holds magical echoes. I think she hid the locket there."
"And someone found it." Tristan pulled out his evidence bag, examining the samples with new understanding. "The first incident was at the lake. That's where they activated it."
"Using my blood. The vandals at my cottage weren't just trying to scare me. They were taking what they needed to bind the locket to my magical signature." Maren's hands clenched. "Hair from my brush, blood from a cut I didn't notice. Enough to create a construct that looks and feels exactly like my magic."
Moira spoke up from her position surrounded by books. "According to these records, the doppelgänger feeds on chaos and fear. The more accusations leveled against Maren, the stronger it becomes. It's literally powered by the town's suspicion."
"How do we stop it?" Tristan asked.
"Find the locket and destroy it. The construct can't exist without its anchor." Maren closed the book carefully. "But I don't know where to start looking. My mother died three years ago. The locket could be anywhere around the lake."
"Then we search the lake. Tomorrow, first light." Tristan began packing his evidence with renewed purpose. "This gives us something concrete to investigate instead of chasing shadows."
"Literally chasing shadows," Maren said, attempting humor that fell flat.
"We should head back to the safe house." Tristan glanced toward the darkening windows. "It's getting late, and I don't like you being exposed after dark."
Maren gathered her cloak and the herbs Freya had given her. Moira and Lucien walked them to the door, both wearing concerned expressions.
"Be careful," Moira said, squeezing Maren's hand. "If the doppelgänger realizes you know about it, things could escalate more than they have."
Full dark had settled over Hollow Oak when they had begun driving back to the cottage, turning the world into shadows and lamplight.
They were halfway to the safe house when Maren's shadows recoiled violently.
“Stop the truck.”
Tristan barely had time to react before she had opened the door and stepped out. Her instinct screamed danger before her conscious mind caught up. "Tristan."
"I feel it." His hand went to his knife as he stepped out too, ice-blue eyes scanning the darkness between trees. "Something's wrong."
The air pressure changed, dropping suddenly like before a storm. Cold crawled up Maren's spine as her shadows pressed so close they became almost invisible, hiding against her body.
A figure suddenly seemed to appear on the path ahead, barely visible in the darkness. Tall. Slender. Dark hair and pale skin that caught moonlight in a way that looked almost luminous.
Wearing Maren's face.
The doppelgänger smiled with Maren's mouth, but the expression held nothing human behind it. Silver eyes glowed too bright, too empty, reflecting light like mirrors instead of living flesh.
"Hello, sister," it said, voice identical to Maren's but layered with something that sounded like wind through dead trees. "Did you miss me?"
Maren's blood turned to ice. Seeing her own face twisted into something cruel and hollow was worse than any nightmare. "You're not real."
"I'm as real as you made me." The doppelgänger stepped closer, movements fluid but slightly off, like watching someone who'd learned to walk by observation rather than instinct. "Blood and shadow and fear. You gave me everything I needed to exist."
"I didn't give you anything. Someone stole from me."
"Does it matter? I'm here now. Living your life better than you ever could." The creature's smile widened. "The town fears me. Respects my power. Soon they'll beg me to leave, and when I do, I'll take your face with me. Wear it somewhere new. Be you somewhere people don't know the difference."
Shadows erupted from the doppelgänger like dark lightning, lashing toward Maren with killing intent.
Tristan shoved her aside hard enough to send her sprawling into snow. The shadows missed by inches, carving gouges in the tree behind where she'd been standing.
"Stay down," Tristan commanded.
