SHATTERED: SECRET SOCIETY OF SOULS, BOOK 1

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SHATTERED: SECRET SOCIETY OF SOULS, BOOK 1 Page 3

by K. C. RILEY


  “That’s Shadowick Mountain,” Cassie said.

  Josie grabbed her purse from the car and slammed the door shut. “You don’t want to go there.”

  “Trust me. I wasn’t planning to.” Even far away something about the place seemed haunting.

  The feeling of, maybe this was all a bad idea, crept up my arms, but I was already there.

  We walked up to a huge mansion with a large frat-flag posted in the front yard. Josie rang the doorbell and I glanced at both her and Cassie in the porch light. The girls’ figures gave a whole new meaning to designer skinny jeans and expensive short-sleeved knit tops.

  I wanted to shrink further into my old baggy sweatshirt until I disappeared. What in the hell was I thinking? I didn’t belong here.

  “Are you guys sure I’m dressed okay?”

  They both smiled crookedly. “You’re fine.”

  They were terrible liars.

  Maybe we had something in common, after all.

  2

  A short guy with freckles, amber eyes, and red hair opened the door. With a drink in his hand, he leaned against the doorway. “Ladies? I.D.s, please.”

  “Whatever, Mason.” Josie waved him to the side like a gnat and entered. Cassie followed.

  “Pushy, I can live with that. Of course, I’m kidding, no I.D.s needed, especially for you, Josie.” Mason threw Josie a kiss with his lips.

  He was cute in a nerdy kind of way.

  “You’re gross.” Josie hollered from inside the door, “Liz, come on and don’t mind him. He’s completely harmless. Trust me.”

  Mason smirked, nodded for me to go in, and mouthed she wants me.

  The music pumped through the doorway as I entered an ocean of bouncing bodies that were dancing to top twenty hits in a hall of flashing lights. In one corner was a little grinding action. In another, lots of lip action that warmed my face. And still, way on the other side of the room was a girl on top of a table that flailed her arms in the air while holding a cup in her mouth. I wasn’t quite sure if she was dancing or having a seizure.

  Mason popped over in front of Josie. “Welcome to the best night of your life, hosted by moi.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “Pffft. You mean hosted by Zander. Speaking of, where is he? And why are you answering his door?”

  “Wow. Really? All this in front of you, and you want to know where Zander is? What does he have that I don’t?”

  Josie scanned Mason up and down. “I don’t know? A body?”

  Mason gasped. “I’m hurt.”

  “You’ll get over it.”

  I smirked at Josie’s and Mason’s banter when something towered behind me.

  “So, is this the new girl?” a deep voice asked.

  One, I hated that term. Two, it was the way he said it. Like he knew something about me I didn’t. I turned around to face the chest of a blond guy with arms the size of Kansas.

  Cassie threw him a shady look. “Manners much?”

  “What?” the big guy said.

  “Lizzy, this is Boyd. You’ve already met Mason,” Cassie said. “Guys, this is Liz. Yes, the new girl. Now, let’s move on.”

  “Cool bun.” Boyd pointed at my hair while bopping to the music. “Messy, big, I like it.” He then took a gulp of whatever was in his cup. “Oh, and your hoodie, it’s big too. And red.”

  I wanted to die but mustered a half-cracked smile instead. “Uh. Thanks?”

  Josie stretched on her toes and looked over the other bopping heads in the room. “Where is Zander?”

  “Even though I’m hurt, I’m going to ignore your blinded misguidance,” Mason said. “The last time I saw him he was in the basement.”

  “Right. The basement it is.” Josie grabbed Cassie’s hand, and Cassie grabbed mine.

  We pushed our way down the stairs as the bass reverberated through the walls. And it didn’t take long for the smell of sweating bodies and cheap beer to hit my nose.

  Once we got to the bottom of the stairs, Josie dragged us to the middle of the floor. Honestly, it was too crowded to do anything but stand in one spot and bob my head.

  After two hours I’d had enough. I hated to be a party pooper, but the people and the music was all getting to me. My chest tightened as my breath shallowed.

  Coming to a party was a bad idea and way too soon.

  I leaned in close and whisper-shouted over the blaring-bass, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Cassie offered.

  “No, you guys stay here, I’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure?” Josie’s eyes were still on the lookout for the mysterious Zander.

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  It was like everyone’s emotions in the room were closing in on me. One of the counselors at Crown Hill said they were panic attacks, a natural phenomenon after a traumatic event. I just needed a quiet place to clear my mind and ground.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Cassie asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

  Cassie seemed genuinely concerned. They both did. “If you’re not having a good time, we can go.”

  “What? Of course, I am,” I lied. “There’s no way we’re leaving.” I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. Why didn’t I just tell her the truth? Because the truth was boring and lame. I wanted to be something else. Something better.

  “Okay, well, we’ll be right here. Hand me your phone.” Cassie put in both their numbers while still dancing to the music. “Text if you get lost.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  Cassie and Josie barely knew me. I couldn’t figure out why they were being so nice. Or why they were acting like they were my friends.

  I was more the lone wolf type than a people person, even though I didn’t want to be. And who could blame me? It was hard making friends always moving from town to town and starting over. It was even harder letting people in even though I never really understood why. Sometimes it seemed as though if I let myself get too close to someone, I would lose them. And hadn’t I? Mom was gone, and there was no one left but me.

  I was finally back on the main floor where I asked for directions to a bathroom, any bathroom. The mansion was one big maze. I finally came across a guest bathroom, but it was in use.

  Down on the other end of the house, a girl with blue pixie hair mentioned there was a half bath, but again, by the time I got there, it too was occupied. Each bathroom came with the task of asking someone for directions only to find another bathroom I couldn’t use.

  Calm down and breathe, I thought as the walls continued to close in.

  I was soon back in the main hall where a haze of weed had settled over the heads of everyone that was dancing in the room. The smell of skunk and gasoline mixed with armpits should have been enough to choke a horse. But it wasn’t. Stoned out of their heads, everyone continued hopping and bouncing around.

  One of those bodies bounced and pushed me smack dab into someone else. The next thing I heard was a wave of gasps, and what I hoped wasn’t the sound of something spilling onto someone.

  I turned to apologize, but given the appalling expression on everyone’s face, I already knew I had done something gravely wrong.

  A girl with beautiful long black hair, porcelain skin, blue eyes, and red punch all over what used to be a cute white top shrieked.

  “Holy crap. I’m sorry. Let me get that.” I was sure it was expensive, but I also couldn’t think. On the edge of a nervous breakdown, I grabbed the napkin out of her hand and patted away.

  “Just...stop.” She snatched the napkin from me and patted herself dry. “I got it, thanks. And let me guess. You’re the new girl.”

  Her two besties stared at me as though ready to pounce at the slightest wrong move.

  My phone buzzed against my leg. No one ever called anymore. It had to be either Cassie, Josie, or Mom’s lawyer.

  “Uh, I’m Lizzy.” I steadied the tremble in my hand and put it out to shake hers. It must
have had rabies given she left it hanging. With the feeling of LOSER stapled to my forehead, I reined it in. “Sorry. Really. I should have looked where I was going.” Wait. What was I saying? It wasn’t my fault.

  The girl peered around at everyone who appeared to be watching and waiting for what would come next. I suspected she either wanted to clobber me for the ruined top—couldn’t blame her there—or rip my ribs out, shred them, and then feed them to her bodyguards.

  A smile faker than a crocodile inched across her face. “No problem. Accidents happen. Don’t they?”

  Hmmm. Why did that sound more like a threat than a piece offering? Regardless, with nothing left to look at, and no show, everyone went back to dancing.

  She leaned into my ear. “Don’t let it happen again, newbie. I don’t give second chances. Ever.” She then walked past me with a strong nudge to the shoulder.

  I yelled out. “I never got your name.” My anxiety was through the roof.

  “Because I never gave it. But Meghan, if you must know. Don’t forget it.” She looked me up and down and then disappeared into the crowd with Frick and Frack slithering behind her.

  It didn’t take long to gather that Meghan was more than likely the who you want to stay as far away from list.

  My thigh vibrated again. It was a text from Cassie.

  R u ok? Heard about Meghan.

  There was no way news could travel that fast. However, clearly it did. I texted her back.

  All good. Still looking for a bathroom.

  The stress of the night, Meghan, my hair, and the stupid hoodie, all finally broke me. I watched a tall, wiry girl hovering over the punch bowl pour herself a second cup. Not a bad idea.

  “Hey. What kind of punch is this?” My head pounded from the music.

  “What?” she yelled.

  “What kind of punch is this?” I said louder.

  Her head bobbed up and down. “It’s called champagne punch.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Oh, you know, beer, vodka, and a little raspberry lemonade concentrate.”

  “Perfect.” Who was I kidding? I hated the taste of alcohol. It always reminded me of melted copper on my tongue. I poured myself a half a cup anyway and took a sip. To my surprise, it was good, both fruity-sweet and sour to the taste while warm and fuzzy going down. The warmth left in my throat and stomach eased the tension in my body and unraveled my nerves like an uncoiled snake.

  With my drink in hand, I returned to my quest for a bathroom and parted my way through more gyrating bodies until I froze. From the corner of my eye, I swore I recognized someone, a woman with dark-brown chestnut hair and high cheekbones, Mom’s cheekbones. There was no way. I had to have been seeing things.

  It was crazy. But, before I knew it, I was pushing through the crowd to catch up to her, whoever her was.

  I could only catch fragments of the back of her head. And, for a moment, she disappeared until I saw her again going up the stairs. She turned and stared dead in my face. There was no mistake. It was Mom or someone that looked exactly like her. She had on washed out jeans and a floral sleeveless shirt with a collar and buttons down the front that I had never seen her wear before. I once read doppelgangers were a real thing. Either way, I pushed through the crowd to get to her. I had to know.

  By the time I got to the bottom of the stairs, she was already at the top. She looked down at me and smiled. Only my mom could smile that way.

  I set my drink down and followed her.

  On the way up, flashes of lightning lit the hall in shadows that danced across the walls. And the lights flickered on and off, but no one noticed.

  At the top of the stairs, the dark outline of Mom’s supposed doppelganger halted at the end of a candle-lit corridor.

  “Wait,” I called out.

  One minute she was there, the next she wasn’t. A door slammed. And the lights flickered on and off again until completely going out.

  Down the hall were two closed doors at either side of me. Which one did she go in?

  I chose the door to my right and placed my ear against it. Lightning cracked and my heart raced both from the storm and the thought of who could be on the other side. At first, there was only silence. But the quiet soon gave way to little outbursts of childish giggles. What was a kid doing at a frat party?

  “Hello? Mom?” What was I saying? Mom was dead. Get a grip.

  The door eerily creaked open. Regardless, I pushed it open the rest of the way.

  To my surprise, it was an empty bathroom the size of a palace.

  Mint candles lit by the sink brought me to my senses, the scent both calming and grounding. I took a deep breath in as I peered into the mirror at the sink.

  “Pull it together,” I whispered to myself.

  I turned on the tap and splashed water on my face when the sound of something buzzed past my ear. I reached for a hand towel and patted my eyes dry so I could see.

  A dragonfly landed on the faucet. Dragonflies were my mom’s favorite creature on the planet. That was what she called me. She said they were spiritual, mystical. I would always ask her why and her reply was always the same, they just are.

  “Hey, little guy.” I put my hand out, and it flew and landed at the tip of my finger. “How’d you get in here?”

  I was about to go open a window to set it free when an icy draft blew from behind me. I turned around, but nothing was there. When I turned back, the dragonfly was gone. More than that, something was watching me.

  The fine hairs at the nape of my neck raised on end. And I froze at the sight of the shadowy figure that hovered behind me from within the mirror.

  “There’s nothing there,” I chanted. “There’s nothing there. Face your fears.”

  I tried to do what they had shown me at the institution. I closed my eyes and counted to three. I then quickly snapped around to face the thing that had been haunting my dreams ever since the accident, the dark shadow that killed my mother—that tried to kill me.

  Nothing was there.

  “See. It’s all in your imagination.” Yeah. Then why was my heart about to break out of my chest?

  With a deep breath, I was about to skedaddle when some little kid giggled from behind the shower curtain in the tub. The problem was the shower curtain had been opened when I first came in. And now it wasn’t.

  Panic dug its nails deep into my skin. There was no way a kid was in the tub, let alone the bathroom. But there was no way I was making any of it up. Or was I? I had been fine for months and I wasn’t crazy.

  I slowly inched toward the tub. With each step, the temperature in the room dropped until my breath unfolded like frosty stacks of smoke in the air. The whispers in my head grew louder.

  Goosebumps tracked up and down my neck and arms as something soft and wet squished from beneath my foot. I bent down to pick up a small stuffed rabbit with dirty, scruffy ears and one eye that hung on for dear life.

  More giggles came from behind the curtain. And so did the feeling that we weren’t the only ones in the room.

  Something evil hovered from behind me. It’s cold, foul breath trickled against the hairs that were already on edge at the back of my neck. It was the same rotting smell that came from my mom’s phone the night of the accident. It was here. The shadow.

  A thousand thoughts rushed through me, but the foremost was that there was no way in hell I was turning around to face it.

  The water in the tub turned on. And in an instant, the cold-wet floor bit into the flesh of my toes. My sneakers had completely disappeared from my feet. Water was everywhere.

  It’s not real. It’s not real.

  Right. Keep telling yourself that.

  The doctors at Crown Hill said there was no such thing as dark shadows, possessed phones, or magic. That what I had experienced—a complete nervous breakdown—was the only way my body could process my mom’s death. What if they were right? But, what if they were wrong? I had to know.

  With one swoop I pulled the c
urtain back. But, I shouldn’t have. Because there was no kid.

  There was only me looking down at me submerged in a tub of water that overflowed onto the floor. My face was pale and lifeless as though dead.

  My eyes opened and I gasped. They were completely black.

  Within in the next second, I had become the very thing I had been looking at submerged beneath the water.

  I held my breath in panic mode and grabbed anything I could to come up for air. It wasn’t working. Invisible hands wrapped around my throat and held me down. Water flooded my nose and throat, choking me, drowning me. I thrashed my arms and kicked my legs at the shadow that was once again trying to kill me.

  “Lizzy,” a voice cried out. “Lizzy,” he said again. “Elizabeth. Wake up. You’re not drowning.”

  I finally snapped out of it and awoke to eyes that burned through me like blue sapphires, eyes that were so familiar.

  “You’re not drowning,” he repeated.

  Dark-blond hair swept over the stranger’s chiseled face. He was beautiful. Unforgettable. “Can you stand?”

  “I think so,” I finally said locked in his gaze.

  I had been pulled from the nightmare into a world that was warm and safe. I was so captivated I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing. And quite honestly, who cared?

  At the low rumble of his deep voice, the shadowy whispers in my head went silent. The quiet was something I hadn’t heard in months. It was so quiet I could hear the thumping of my heart beating.

  The stranger helped me out of the tub before I tripped and stumbled into his arms.

  A deep sense of nostalgia I couldn’t explain swept over me like a drug. I had lost all sense of inhibition.

  Electricity hummed through my body in a way that seemed to summon his lips toward mine, or maybe it was mine toward his. And what was I about to do? This wasn’t like me at all. But I couldn’t help it. It felt natural.

  I swallowed hard as my lips were about to kiss those of a complete stranger. The only thing that stopped me was the onslaught of lights that started flashing in my face.

 

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