Normally, she avoided mirrors. It wasn't that she was ashamed of the way that she looked or her reflected image, but she felt awkward, uncomfortable. When she passed by them, she felt as if she could see things that normally hid in the corner of her eye, as if she looked too closely, she could see the shadow of someone standing behind her. The voice that whispered inside her head, her constant companion. So she avoided mirrors and reflections, where she could.
But today, she pasued in the half light of the room, and turned to face the mirror full on. Her brown eyes traced the line of her hair, blonde pale enough to almost be platinum, hanging straight down to almost conceal her face, her full lips. Lower, to where it brushed in unkempt ends across her shoulders, the dull robe she was wearing hanging slightly open, revealing the swell of her breasts.
Close your eyes, whispered the familiar voice in her mind, and she obeyed. No one stood behind her, yet she felt a hand brush through the air in front of her, pausing before her mouth as she slowly exhaled. She felt the solid weight of darkness behind her, malvolent, familiar, consuming, protective. Hands pulled at her hair, and she startled until he growled.
Light hands brushed across her neck, and she felt riven skin and cool metal. Almost, she opened her eyes, but the growl came again, with words, his words, weaving through her mind. But always before the words had been just that, a voice inside her head, that gnawed at the back of her mind, the presence had always been her own imagination, she'd never felt him so vividly before.
The hands finished at the back of her neck, and pulled away, but still she could feel him behind her, she felt his arm move around her, metal wreathed finger lightly touching her lips. Now.
Reluctantly, fearfully, she opened her eyes, her gaze still downcast. The first thing she noticed was the light, a small point nestled between her breasts. It was suspended from a fine silver chain that hung around her neck. She hadn't felt the chain as he'd fastened it on her, it was light and comfortable.
She focussed on the source of the light, it was a round ball of finely woven filigree silver, the size of her thumbnail, the silver fine as wire, creating a perfect sphere, hanging between her breasts and glowing with an inner light.
She looked closer, and realised that it wasn't a ball at all, but an exquisite silver cage. The source of the light came from inside the cage, where a tiny faerie knelt, trapped. The faerie's tears shimmered, casting the light that caused the cage to glow. The faerie's wings, like those of a dragonfly, brushed against the edges of the cage.
Her gaze was drawn up. In front of her face there was nothing, she could see nothing, feel nothing with her eyes open. But in her reflection in the mirror, bathed in the faerie's light, a metal wrapped hand was held in front of her face.
She looked up, and for the first time she saw his face, reflected in the light of the faerie's tears, the voice that forever whispered in his mind.
Don't. The word wrapped around her, before she could turn to look over her shoulder. But even as she watched his lips shape the words she knew that she wouldn't have seen him there. She would only ever see him as he held her reflection in the mirror, his voice in her mind, whispering, tormenting, caressing.
His hand reached down, one silver claw lightly rocking the faerie's cage. Her debt is now to you. She is yours, as you are mine.
Unbidden her hand moved, as his hand closed around it. She clasped her hand around the faerie's cage, dimming the light that only showed reflected in the glass, moving the world to darkness. She felt the demon's gift in her hand solid and real, his last word echoed in her mind. Mine. Then she was alone, and only the laughter remained.