Chapter 18: The Shapeshifter
The Meteor Sense hit me like a slap across the face.
I stumbled, caught myself against a locker, and scanned the hallway for the source. Students flowed past—Smallville High's usual afternoon chaos. Nothing unusual. No one out of place.
But someone meteor-affected was nearby. Close. Watching.
[WARNING: METEOR-AFFECTED INDIVIDUAL DETECTED. LOCATION: UNCERTAIN. SIGNAL INTERMITTENT.]
Intermittent? That's new.
The feeling faded, then returned. Faded again. Like someone was flickering in and out of range, or changing in ways that confused my detection.
I forced myself to keep moving. Act normal. Don't let them know you know.
Third period. History. The feeling came back stronger, and I caught movement at the edge of my vision—a girl in the back row, dark hair, looking away just as I turned. By the time I focused, she was taking notes like nothing had happened.
Fourth period. The sensation moved. Different classroom, different direction. A blonde this time, watching through the window of a passing door.
It's following me. But the face keeps changing.
Lunch brought clarity.
Chloe found me at our usual table, dropped her bag with a thump, and pulled out a folder.
"Remember how I said the Wall of Weird needed more organization? I found something."
"What?"
"Tina Greer." She spread photos across the table. "Junior. Transferred in last year. History of psychological issues—identity problems, obsessive tendencies. Her mother died in a meteor strike when she was seven."
The girl in the photos looked ordinary. Brown hair, average features, the kind of face that blended into crowds.
"What makes her Wall-worthy?"
"Last month, a student swore she saw Tina transform into someone else. Like, physically change. The school counselor wrote it off as a hallucination, but—" Chloe tapped the photo. "Tina's been flagged for watching other students. Following them. Copying their mannerisms."
The pieces clicked into place.
"Shapeshifter."
"That's my theory." Chloe leaned forward. "Meteor rocks gave her the ability to change her appearance. Maybe to become anyone she wants."
That's why the Meteor Sense keeps flickering. She's not consistent—her form changes, and the signal changes with it.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Chloe's expression grew serious.
"Because I've been tracking her patterns. Who she watches, who she follows." She pulled out another sheet—a hand-drawn chart of connections. "For the last two weeks, her primary focus has been you."
The cafeteria suddenly felt colder.
"Me?"
"You and Kara. She's been studying both of you, but especially you. I think she's learned enough to—"
My phone buzzed. Text from Kara.
Meet me at the parking lot? I have a surprise.
Normal. Sweet. Exactly the kind of message Kara would send.
Except Kara was in her AP Physics class right now. I'd walked her there myself.
"Cole?" Chloe's voice sharpened. "You just went pale."
"Stay here," I said, already standing. "Call Clark. Tell him we have a problem."
"What—"
But I was already moving.
The parking lot was half-empty in the middle of the day.
I emerged from the side entrance, scanning for Kara—or whoever was pretending to be Kara. The Meteor Sense hummed, stronger now, directional. Pointing toward the row of cars near the back fence.
And there I was.
Not a reflection. Not a trick of the light. Me—Cole Harrison—walking between the parked cars with his arm around someone blonde. Around Kara.
The imposter-me laughed at something imposter-or-real-Kara said. Leaned in. Kissed her cheek.
My blood turned to ice water.
[DUPLICATE BIOSIGNATURE DETECTED. WARNING: IMPERSONATION IN PROGRESS.]
I moved before I could think. Closed the distance at speed that probably looked wrong, that would raise questions if anyone was watching.
The other Cole saw me coming. His face—my face—twisted with something between surprise and satisfaction.
Then he ran.
Fast, but not enhanced-fast. Human-fast. I could have caught him easily, but Kara was standing there, confused, hurt, scared.
I skidded to a stop in front of her.
"Cole?" Her voice trembled. "I thought you just—you were here. Then you left. Now you're back?" The confusion became fear as understanding dawned. "That wasn't you, was it?"
"No." I took her hands. "That wasn't me."
"Then who—"
"Her name is Tina Greer. She can change her appearance. Become anyone she wants." I forced my voice to stay calm, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. "She's been watching us. Learning us. And now she's wearing my face."
Kara's fear solidified into something harder. Anger.
"She kissed me. As you."
"I know."
"I thought it was you, and I—" She stopped. "How long? How long has she been doing this?"
The question cut deep. Because I didn't know. Couldn't know. Every moment we'd shared in the past two weeks—had it been me? Had it been her? Which conversations were real and which were performances?
"I don't know," I admitted. "But we're going to find out."
"How?"
I pulled out my phone. Chloe had already texted: Clark on his way. Where are you?
"We start hunting."
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: SHAPESHIFTER. PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: OBSESSIVE. CURRENT STATUS: IMPERSONATING HOST. RECOMMEND: IMMEDIATE CONTAINMENT.]
Kara's jaw set. The fear was gone now, replaced by determination.
"She made me think—she made me feel things that weren't—" She couldn't finish. "Let's find her."
We moved through the parking lot together, searching for any sign of where fake-Cole had gone. The Meteor Sense pulsed, but fainter now—Tina was getting better at hiding, or she'd changed forms again.
Clark appeared at the edge of the lot, moving at normal-human speed but clearly ready to go faster.
"Chloe called. What's happening?"
"Shapeshifter," I said. "Tina Greer. She's been impersonating me, getting close to Kara."
Clark's expression darkened.
"Where is she?"
"She ran. Could be anyone by now."
"Then we check everyone." Clark's voice carried the weight of someone used to handling impossible situations. "She has to slip eventually."
Kara touched my arm.
"What did she do? As you, I mean. What did she say?"
The question I'd been dreading. Because the answer was: I had no idea. For all I knew, fake-Cole had said things real-Cole would never say. Made promises. Shared secrets. Damaged what we were building in ways I couldn't see yet.
"I don't know," I said again. The words tasted like ash. "But whatever she did, whatever she said—it wasn't me, Kara. You have to believe that."
"I do." Her grip tightened. "I just... I need to know what she knows. About us. About you."
"Then we find her." I turned toward the school, toward the hunting ground where Tina Greer had been watching us for weeks. "And we make her tell us."
Clark fell into step beside us. Three people walking toward a confrontation none of us had anticipated—a Kryptonian, a meteor-enhanced transmigrator, and whatever I was becoming.
The System offered its assessment:
[TACTICAL NOTE: SHAPESHIFTER ADVANTAGE LIES IN DECEPTION. COUNTER WITH VERIFICATION PROTOCOLS AND CLOSE COORDINATION.]
Good advice. But cold comfort when someone was wearing your face and kissing your girlfriend.
Tina Greer had made this personal. And personal, in Smallville, meant dangerous.
You want to be me? Fine. Let's see how you handle what comes with it.
The hunt was on.
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