Chapter 10 · The Other Jace

"Run."

Mara didn't ask why. She grabbed my arm and pulled, and I shoved her the other direction, back toward the ladder we'd just climbed down from.

Because the guy standing twenty feet behind us, half-lit by the emergency strips still working in this part of the tunnel—that was me.

Same jacket. Same build. Same face.

Except his eyes were wrong. Flat. Like someone had scooped out everything that made them human and left the rest.

"Jace," Mara said, voice tight. Her hand was still on my sleeve. "What the hell is that?"

"Not me," I said.

The copy tilted its head. Watched us. Didn't blink.

Then it stepped forward.

I moved first. Dragged Mara with me, cutting left into the service corridor that split off from the main tunnel. The walls here were older, wet brick and exposed pipe, and the floor sloped down hard enough that I nearly lost my footing.

"Jace, stop—" Mara tried to twist free, but I didn't let go.

"You want to stick around and ask it questions? Be my guest."

"It's evidence. It's—"

"It's not evidence if we're dead."

Footsteps behind us. Steady. Not running.