A smile, alien and uncomfortable for its rarity, stretched Stehlen’s mouth. “Good.”
“One thing,” said the Swordswoman, digging into her pocket.
Stehlen watched as she drew forth three carved wooden toys.
“I died with these in my possession,” said Lebendig. She examined Stehlen through narrowed eyes. “Want them?”
“They’re safer with you.”
Of course, if she changed her mind, nothing in all the world could stop her from getting them back.
“Excuse me,” said a dirty-faced child peering from a shard of broken glass.
Stehlen glanced at the boy. “Morgen?”
“Obviously not.”
“You’re his Reflection.”
“Brains as well as beauty,” said the Reflection. “Morgen says you have performed wonderfully, exactly as expected.” The boy grinned stained teeth. “You even stole the figurines just as he wanted.”
Stehlen’s hands clenched tight. “Liar.”
“He says you are to return to Selbsthass to collect your reward and a pat on the head for being a good little dog.”
“I’m coming to Selbsthass,” she said.
“Good.”
“I’m going to kill the little shite.”
The Reflection grinned and was gone.
“I think that’s what he wanted,” said Lebendig.
“I know,” said Stehlen.
They used her, used her friends. Because of Morgen and his Reflection, Bedeckt was dead. He was gone. Forever. As was any chance of them finding happiness together. They stole that from me. Because of Morgen and his Reflection, she and Lebendig were once again dead.
They stole our life together.
“Before he showed his filthy little face,” said Stehlen, “I didn’t know about the Reflection. But now…now I’m going to kill them both.”
No one steals from me.