Veiled: Book 1 in the House of Shadows Series

by Michelle Areaux

  Veiled

  House of Shadows: Book 1

  By: Michelle Areaux

  Copyright

  Veiled is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Veiled: A Novel

  Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Areaux

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Edits

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Chapter 1

  I felt his stare before I heard his voice.

  His eyes bore into me and my body feels like it could be set ablaze by the heat from his stare.

  “Take one last look, Audrey Monroe. You are about to leave us forever,” Mark sighs, as he takes a step out from behind the massive, black curtain.

  I exhale a sigh and absorb the feeling that is being part of this theatrical department. For as long as I could remember, I had always been performing. As soon as my mom could, she had me auditioning and acting in every play we could find. My name was even derived from two of her favorite actresses-- Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe. My mom once told me that when she met my dad and heard his last name was Monroe, she knew instantly it was fate and she was destined to marry him. I held on to that like a lifeline. Once I hit high school, my hobby became my obsession. I knew that one day, I would be destined for something greater than what was offered at my small-town high school. My name would be dazzling in lights one day, and I would make my mom and my namesakes proud.

  I looked over at Marcus with his shaggy brown hair, chocolate-colored eyes, and Harry Potter

  t-shirt.

  “It’s not forever,” I remind him, as I spin on my heels to face him. Even my movements were dramatic.

  Mark walks over to me and, together, we stand on center stage. “It’s not every day someone gets selected for the prestigious and exclusive House of Shows Academy. You are going to leave us behind in the dust and move on to absolute greatness,” Mark says, his tone deep and overly dramatic. He throws his hands up in the air, in an elaborate show of dismay. “You will not be here for our first day of Junior year of high school. How will we survive? How will this theatre department go on without our star pupil?” he scoffs.

  I stifle a laugh as I take him in. We have been best friends for years, and he has had a crush on my friend Lisa since kindergarten. I touch the note in my pocket and take it out and give it to him. Goodbyes are not easy for me. I’ve had to say far too many in my life, so I wrote down everything I wanted to say to each of my closest friends. For Mark, I made sure to include that he needs to ask Lisa out.

  “I could never forget about you. Sure, I am lucky to be moving to the Academy, but I will stay in touch,” I remind him, shoving the note in his hand. “Now, don’t read this until I leave. I don’t need you crying on me right now,” I laugh, trying to hide back the emotions that are threatening to release.

  As much as I want to go to the elite private school I know the transition will be difficult. My fingers clasp my necklace, and I feel for the cool, silver metal that holds a locket with my late mother’s picture inside. All of this is for her, I remind myself as I hold the locket close to my heart. My mom had been an actress and even made it to several big-name Broadway shows in New York City and London. However, when she met my dad, she left the glitz and glamour of the big cities and opened up her own theatre school in our small, Kentucky town. She instilled a love of acting in me; and every time I stepped foot on stage, I felt like she was with me.

  And, she still would be if she hadn’t been killed by a drunk driver on her way home when I was ten-years-old. Ever since then, it had just been me and my dad-- Well, my dad when he is around. As a doctor at the town’s only hospital, he stays busy and gone most of the time. I don’t really mind. I guess that’s why I sought out the private school that would hopefully jump-start my career one day. Forcing me to practically raise myself, I learned at an early age to become independent and rely solely on myself.

  The stage would always be a second home to me. And now, I was about to embark on a new journey where a new stage would become my home.

  I just hoped I was ready.

  ***

  As the car slowed, we spotted a sign that read Student Drop-Off Here. A tall, thin man in his thirties walked over to the car.

  “Name of student?” the man asked. His pale skin and light blue eyes made him appear almost translucent as he stood, hovering over the driver’s side door.

  “Audrey Monroe,” my dad said, a big goofy grin plastered over his face.

  I cringed for a moment and then stopped. As embarrassing as my dad could be, I would miss him terribly while I was away. I was beyond grateful that he had found this performance Academy for me to attend and I needed to give him more support.

  The man nodded his head, wrote something on his clipboard, and then walked to my side of the car. “Only students past the gates, please. We have high security here and only those authorized can go beyond the property line,” the man said, opening my door.

  I paused, taken aback by his words. I at least thought my dad would be able to take me to my room or say goodbye to me from the Academy-- not here in the car.

  “No problem. I can respect boundaries and security. It makes me feel secure that my little girl here will be safe,” dad said, grinning over at me.

  I smiled back, allowing some of my own unease to fade away.

  I hugged my dad, promising to call him soon and then allowed the man to help me out of the car.

  “My name is Carl and I will be your guide to the Academy,” he said, almost blinding me with a set of pearly white teeth.

  I grabbed my large suitcase and backpack, gave one last look to my dad, and then followed the man through the iron gates that would lead me to the House of Shows Academy.

  I trail behind Carl and take in the scenery around me. I am a little out of breath as we continue moving uphill. The further we go, the thicker the trees become. The sun is bright in the sky today, but you can barely see it under the canvas of the trees shadowing the path we are taking. There is an awkward silence between us but I am unsure of what to say.

  “Have you fed recently?” Carl asked.

  I halted my steps and froze. What a weird question to ask someone, I thought. “Yes, why?” I asked, clearly frazzled by his strangeness.

  Shaking his head, he continued walking, almost as though he didn’t see my stopping. “No reason, you just smell like blood,” he stated.

  What the--??

  This guy was seriously strange. While his back was still turned to me, I took a moment to sniff my arms and shirt. To me, I smelled of lavender and vanilla, a sweet combination of the lotion and perfume I had adorned before leaving my home. Maybe he wasn’t into those scents. Either way, he already had me feeling like an outcast and I hadn’t even stepped foot inside the Academy yet.

  We continued walking uphill on the black paved drive until voices began to fill the silence around us. Turning a bend, I spotted hundreds of students milling around the area while adults made announcements.

  Four large black busses were par
ked to the side of the road. Since I still couldn’t see the Academy, I assumed they would take us the remaining way.

  Carl walked over to one of the other men and gave him the clipboard.

  “Students, I need your attention,” a man with long, shiny black hair announced through a bullhorn.

  Everyone ceased to make a sound around us and I watched in fascination. At my old school, it would have taken the teachers several attempts to get students to quiet down.

  “We now have all campers here. Everyone, please load the busses so we can head to the Academy,” he said, before stepping onto a bus himself.

  The bus slowed and I focused on my surroundings. For a prestigious Academy, they had really gone all out on making sure it was hidden away and secure from anyone getting inside. Large trees lined the black paved drive and heavy, golden iron gates blocked the main entrance to the elaborately designed mansion.

  The entire place seemed shadowed, surrounded by darkness and shadows.

  The bus stopped. As I grabbed my luggage, I slowly stepped off the bus following the lead of the other students.

  I was in awe of the Academy. From what I had imagined in my mind, this would be more similar to a large school. Instead, this was a true mansion. Three stories of dark brick and stone stared down at me. The building was so massive, it seemed to stretch for miles both front to back and side to side. Large windows stared back at me. As my eyes traveled to the heavy double wooden doors, I realized not only would I be attending a fantastic performing arts school, I would be living in luxury as well.

  Man, I had the best luck ever. Or, so I thought.

  Chapter 2

  I stand with the rest of the students on the circular drive.

  Some of the students seem unaffected by the beauty and prestige of this building. I remind myself that the House of Shows Academy accepts three new students a year. So, most of the students are returning for another year. They have already spent days and nights at this place and I am the newbie.

  “So, you must be one of the new students,” a girl with almost white hair says from beside me. I peel my eyes off the building and look at her.

  Her skin is milky white and her eyes are almost gray. She doesn’t smile, but her plump, pink lips move up almost into a curve of a smile. She scrunches up her nose, almost as though she has smelled a foul odor. I start to feel a bit self-conscious as I realize I must stink.

  “Yes, this will be my first year here,” I say, mustering a smile of my own.

  “Watch your back, newbie. I run this school,” she said, flipping her hair behind her shoulder and then walking away.

  I remain frozen, unsure of what just happened. Did she really just say she owns this school? And, that right there, is why I kept my friends circle small at my previous school. Drama like that doesn’t bode well with me.

  I’m just about to open my mouth and say something when someone else settles up beside me.

  “Don’t worry about Brie. She is always like that,” a female voice says.

  Still in a state of shock, I turn to see a short girl with black hair styled in a cute pixie cut. Her eyes are almost yellow and her skin looks like soft, white silk. Everyone here seems to be beautiful, now that I really think about it.

  I instantly feel more out of place than ever.

  “Really? She seems to think she owns this place,” I mumble out.

  Shrugging her shoulders, the girl just stands there. “No, not even close. She is just meaner than most girls here. Just stay away from anyone she likes and you will be fine. By the way, I’m Eden,” she says, offering me her hand.

  Thankful for her kindness, I reach out to shake her hand. But, something happens. Her skin is ice-cold to the touch and as soon as our fingers meet, she gasps and her eyes raise in shock.

  I drop my hand to my side, feeling insecure.

  Maybe there was something wrong with me? First, Carl telling me I stink like blood and now this girl freaking out at my touch. Was I that different?

  I didn’t have time to push the matter any further, because the man with the bullhorn stepped in front of our group and began to speak again.

  “Students, for those of you that don’t know, I am Dean Sullivan. Each of you were hand-picked from an extensive list of applicants. You were admitted to this prestigious school because you behold a skill or art that will not only further your academic career, but provide you the necessary tools to make it to a university and be able to survive in the real world.”

  His words struck me as odd. How would being able to act on stage help me survive? Maybe he was just being ominous for effect?

  As he continued, I made sure to pay close attention to our Dean. His black hair was slicked back and parted on the right side. He wore a dark, charcoal gray suit with a red silk piece hanging out of his jacket pocket. He was dashing and beautiful and seemed to fit nicely against the backdrop of the school. “As you enter the school today, you will follow the guides who are awaiting you inside. They will take you to your rooms where you will find your schedule for the afternoon tours. We will all meet again in the assembly hall for the orientation. There you will get your schedules that were designed based on your applications and skill levels. Welcome to the House of Shadows,” he finished, and everyone began to cheer.

  The world around me became silent.

  House of Shadows…

  That couldn’t be possible. My dad had paid for me to attend the House of Shows. I had given him the name and he had assured me that he had gone through all of the proper channels to get me into the school. My heart began to beat erratically and my mouth became dry. I must have been hyperventilating, because, suddenly, the girl at my side began to eye me with concern.

  Hey, are you ok?” she asked.

  I barely heard her words as a loud buzzing noise rang through my ears. Oh no, what had my dad done? I knew he was sleep deprived from countless long nights working as a doctor at the hospital, but he couldn’t have made such a careless mistake. Could he? If I wasn’t at the House of Shows-- an elite performing arts school--where exactly was I? I began to take a step back, my trembling legs barely moving as I attempted my get away.

  Another person was to my left now and I suddenly felt claustrophobic. Another step and I was almost out of the crowd.

  A boy was next to me, his dark hair matching Eden’s. He was much taller than both of us, and if I weren’t so freaked out by the mistake I had landed in, I would focus on how insanely gorgeous he was.

  “Stay quiet and don’t say a word,” the boy said.

  Suddenly, I came to my senses as the guy grabbed my arm and the same frigid touch sparked fear inside of me. He was ice cold to the touch and his fingers felt sharp, almost like daggers.

  “That hurts,” I said, trying to squeeze out of his grip.

  Eden looked at the boy and an unspoken conversation seemed to take place right in front of my eyes. “Listen, you have to come with us now,” Eden said, sparking my attention.

  “Why?” I half-whispered, half cried.

  “Because if you don’t, you could get killed,” Eden said, her eyes meeting mine. The intensity of her stare had me stopping myself from saying anything else. I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to listen to her.

  Everything about these people and this place felt wrong. I wasn’t sure where I was, but this definitely wasn’t a performing arts school. And these people were anything but normal, especially now that I knew I could be killed.

  Chapter 3

  Eden and the strange boy both took hold of me, and led me out of the group of students and to a side entranceway.

  I kept my eyes locked on the ground and my mouth clamped shut. If I opened my mouth, I feared I would scream or cry. So, I decided to remain silent.

  Once inside the house, they took me down a long hallway that was dimly lit. Our shoes shuffled along a hardwood flooring. I couldn’t make out the decor of the building, but it was definitely dark.

  Finally, they stopped in front
of a large, wooden door with a plaque that read Dean Sullivan in bold black letters.

  They opened the door and ushered me inside. We couldn’t be here. This was the Dean’s office!

  “Wait, why are we in here?” I asked.

  But, neither one answered me. They both pulled out cell phones and began typing furiously into them.

  I stood shivering and wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. The office was rather large with cherry wood built-in bookshelves lining three of the walls. A large window faced behind the school, and all I could see for miles were trees and forest. A large, solid oak desk with nickel brushed metal on the edges, giving it a masculine feel, was nestled in front of the large window.

  Two gray leather chairs sat before me and I took the liberty of sitting down in one.

  Finally, Eden stuffed her phone in her pocket and sat in the chair opposite of me.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  I realized I hadn’t introduced myself earlier. “I’m Audrey,” I barely managed to say. My teeth were chattering together so loud, I feared I might chip a tooth.

  “Ok, Audrey, I am sure you have realized now that you aren’t where you are supposed to be. Where exactly did you think you were going?” she asked softly.

  I wanted to be afraid, but she was so calm and caring, I strangely felt safe.

  “I had told my dad about this performing arts school I had wanted to attend. It is very competitive and hard to get in. He told me he would take care of it, which usually means he pays a heavy fee. I am an actress, or at least I want to be one,” I say, looking into her strange, yet alluring golden eyes.

  The boy steps forward and it’s then that I realize how similar they look.

  Eden gives him a glare and he shakes his head before addressing us. “I’m Donovan Sullivan and you are definitely not at a performing arts school,” he half chuckles.