Page 169 of Twisted Soul

She’s almost nauseatingly beautiful, yet also oddly familiar. Have I ever seen her face before?

“You’ve never seen my face, my fearless one,” she replies to my thoughts matter-of-factly. “I’m afraid I had to have some method of disguise in the mortal realm.”

I stare at the woman for another second and then glance at Koa. “You summoned her?”

Meaning…this is my mother?

“No. He summoned me,” another woman’s voice says from behind me.

And Iknowthis voice because, with a jolt, I remember hearing it when everything else faded to black. Memories of who and what I was begin returning to me, so by the time I turn to face the owner of that voice, I’m not surprised to see the Reaper herself push back the hood of her cloak.

Tall, dressed in swirling shadows, with dark hair and pitch-black eyes. Skin so pale, she could be a fresh corpse. A massive, wicked-looking scythe rests on one of the goddess’s shoulders as she stares back at me without a change in her expression?—

Until her lips curl up slowly in a chilling smile.

Something about her face also feels like I should know it.

Things click together as more memories rush to the surface. With a start, I realize Syntyche’s face is so fucking familiar because I’ve seen it in mirrors countless times.

Because I look exactly like her.

Because she’s my mother.