Chapter 23 · The Mirror Twin

"Stop shooting at me with my own face!" Kane slammed behind a concrete pillar as another round punched through the edge beside his ear.

The bullet spat gray dust across his cheek. He wiped it away, glanced at the smear on his fingers, and fired twice toward the upper catwalk.

"You started it!" the other Kane shouted.

"You stole my face!"

"I was born with it!"

A third bullet cracked against the pillar. Kane ducked lower. His shoulder burned where the first shot had grazed him, but the pain barely registered under the pulse of the black pact mark crawling up his wrist.

The old card hall had become a steel maze of broken tables, hanging cables, and mirror panels bolted to the walls. Every reflection showed Kane holding a gun. Every reflection moved half a heartbeat late.

That was the problem.

The man on the catwalk looked exactly like him. Same narrow jaw. Same crooked nose from the fight in the South Market. Same dark hair falling over one eye. Even the same cheap black coat, though Kane's sleeve was torn and the other man's collar was clean.

One of them was the original.

The other was a replacement.