by R. L. Weeks
Emmett nods curtly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring her back.”
Miss Kaye disappears as quick as the wind leaving Emmett alone, standing on the grotty back road behind Fleet Street.
“Raven,” Emmett says.
My heart pounds. For the first time in two years, he’s talking directly to me. “I know I can’t hear you, but I do know you.” He pauses and fiddles with the top of his cane. “I know you wouldn’t want me doing this, but this is my choice. I know it’s wrong, but they are bad people.” He states. “I will do whatever it takes to bring you back to…” He trails off.
I fill in the blanks although he cannot hear me.
“Bring me back to you.”
I shudder as Emmett walks away. I hate what he has become, a lapdog for Miss Kaye, doing her bidding whenever she wishes it just to earn the chance to talk to me. Sometimes, I just wish he would accept that I’m dead and I can’t come back, because that’s the truth. I am never coming back.
TWO
Chandeliers dripping with diamonds, gold, and silver cover the tiled high ceiling of the ballroom. Clicks of woman’s shoes against the marble floor surround me. Soon, there are enough noble men and women that the chatter becomes inaudible and sounds over the music of the Spanish band playing.
“Oh Charles,” A woman says with a forced laugh. “I have been looking for you.”
He leans into her. His breath wreaks of whiskey. “As have I, dear Mary.”
I take in my uncle’s new conquest. She has long blonde hair, much like mine actually, and wide blue eyes. Her thin lips and small nose suit her heart-shaped face.
He lets out a drawn-out sigh as he runs his finger down her soft cheek. “You are so very beautiful.”
She flushes red. “I am flattered, Charles.”
I roll my eyes at their exchange. He is using an alias. I know what his plan is. So does Elizabeth, my friend on the other side who has managed to stay on this earthly plain. I have even managed to show her how to leave the area where she died.
I turn and look at Elizabeth. She reaches out a gloved hand. I take it and she pulls me away from him. “Shall we dance?” she asks with a stretched smile.
I can’t help but smile back. Elizabeth is infectiously joyful. She is a gossip, perhaps even more so than she was in life, from what she tells me. Perhaps it’s her good energy that keeps her here, intact, without disappearing.
She won’t move on until her husband dies so we spend our days together, like ghost detectives, trying to save the world from evils we cannot stop.
She holds onto both my hands and retreats, then advances, and soon enough, I feel my worries slip away. I spin around and feel dizzy. The adrenaline pumps through me as the music grows louder and everyone takes to the dance floor.
Feeling everyone’s energy gives me a rush of pleasant feelings. I can feel their joy, excitement, nervousness, and pleasure. My heard fuzzes as we pirouette. I fling my eyes out beside me and spin around, and around, overcome with happiness.
I feel so alive.
The music is consuming. I look at Elizabeth. Her garments flutter behind her as she dances on her own.
She raises her arms above her head as the climax of the violin comes to an end.
I laugh. “That was fun.”
Elizabeth grabs my hand and tugs me.
“Wait, we need to follow my uncle.”
She laughs. “Can we have one night off? I hear they are letting off fireworks in the square.”
She pulls me out into the night and we hurry over to the square in front of the palace. Hundreds of people have shown up, barricaded away from the palace by guards.
Fiery sparks whip through the night, bursting through the darkness in front of the palace gates. Queen Victoria has come to watch the show. After all, it is for her birthday – she is fifty-four now. She has reigned for many years and is beloved by her people, at least those in London. There are some who hate her, one even tried to have her assonated when I was just a child. Everyone heard about it.
Elizabeth looks up, mesmerized by the shapes and lights. I look to my left when I hear the voice of Mary Nicholls, uncle’s conquest.
“Please, Charles.”
I grab Elizabeth’s wrist. “They’re going down that alley.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widen. “Just when I was beginning to enjoy myself.”
“Come on.” My breaths quicken as we hurry after them. My heart pounds as I see the flick of blonde hair disappear around a corner. Elizabeth paces just behind me on the narrow, cobbled path.
We round the corner. “It’s a dead end,” I say.
Uncle has Mary pressed up against the wall. “You,” he says, his breaths haggard. “Look just like the woman that broke my heart.”
I gulp. “He means me.”
“I know,” Elizabeth says. “He’s not wrong. She does just like you.”
Horror fills me. “That’s why he chose her.”
“Please Charles.”
He bares his black teeth. “My real name is Jack.”
I hear the fireworks sound in the distance. Loud cheers follow the bangs.
Mary’s eyes fill with tears as she looks at my uncles twisted expression. His fingers wrap around her throat, squeezing at her windpipe. Her eyes are throbbing as she struggles against his strong arms.
“Not so fearless now are you, Raven.”
Confusion sweeps her features as he enacts his revenge for me, on her.
Her screams ring in our ears. Her skin drenches with sweat and her lips begin to turn blue. She claws at his arms at one last desperate attempt to live.
Her hair is wild as she struggles, her nails cutting into his skin.
She finally stops struggling and falls limp. His greedy eyes look into her as the light fades from her gaze. They are empty now, only reflecting the face of the man who will do anything to torture me, even beyond the grave.
I hurry to Elizabeth’s side, trying to calm her. “We need to be strong now,” I say. “She will be with us shortly. We must make her feel safe.”
Elizabeth looks at me with bloodshot eyes. “How can you just watch that and be so calm?”
“I’m not,” I say stiffly. “I am horrified, I just know that me crying and panicking isn’t going to help! We need to help Mary move on, then somehow find some way to stop him before he does it again.”
I look back at her broken body as her ghost comes into view. “Poor thing,” I say.
Elizabeth walks over to Uncle’s victim, Mary. “It is okay.” Elizabeth cooes.
Mary’s eyes are wild. She is holding her throat. “Am I dead?” She asks, her voice hoarse.
“Yes,” I say and walk to Elizabeth’s side. “You must move on.”
She looks at my dress, then at my face. “You look like me.”
I gulp. “Yes.”
“Charles said he’d never hurt me.” She sobs. “My father needs me. He is home, sick. That’s the only reason I was allowing Charles to court me. We needed money. I am all my father has. I need to get back to him.” Tears stream down her red, blotchy cheek. Her breath hitches. “My father will die without me!”
She falls to her knees, hyperventilating, clawing at the skirt of her dress. “Help me,” she screams.
Elizabeth kneels in front of her. “You can see him before you pass over.” She says with a steady tone. “There is nothing you can do to get back to him, but you can stay with him until he passes if you wish too.”
She looks up at Elizabeth wide-eyed. “Why did he kill me?”
I draw in a deep breath. “Charles is actually Jack, and Jack is my uncle. It is… complicated.”
I see confusion sweep her petite features until the familiar look of realisation sets. “He killed me because I look like you didn’t he?” She screeches. “What is your name?”
My bottom lip trembles. I feel a lump in my throat. “Raven.”
Her mouth twists in anger. “He shouted your name when he killed me! I am dead because o
f you!” She stands up and lunges at me.
Elizabeth holds her back and I fall backwards, almost tripping. “I am sorry. I never intended on you dying or anything. I am sorry that you and I look alike, but that is all I can be sorry for. I had no part in this!”
She grinds her teeth. She shakes Elizabeth’s grip and takes a step back. “I am going back to my father.” Her eyes are brimming with tears. She turns and walks over and tries to steady herself by gripping the wall but falls through it.
I hurry over to her, but she pushes me away. Elizabeth takes her hand instead and helps her to her feet.
Elizabeth smiles. “You need to will to feel the object and you will be able to sit on chairs and lean on walls. It does take time. You won’t be able to move anything, but you can feel them, just not people.”
Mary’s jaw drops. “Who makes these rules.” She looks up at the black sky. “Perhaps this is just a dream.”
I reach out and touch her arm. She flinches. “I assure you, you are not. I am sorry, Mary, but I am not the enemy. I want to help you.”
She moves her arm away from my touch. “I don’t want your help.” She looks at Elizabeth. “Thank you for your kindness, but I must leave.”
Mary looks behind us to the way out of the alleyway. She lifts her skirt and runs down it.
“She was rude,” I state.
Elizabeth gives me a look. “She just died.” She says, her voice going up an octave. “Show some compassion.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I guess I have never been the compassionate type.”
Elizabeth relaxes. “You are,” she breathes. “You’re just all logic. All that is, not what it could be.”
I arch an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
She points over at the moon. “When you look at the moon, you see it as the moon and that is all.”
Is Elizabeth going mad?
“Of course I do. It is the moon. What else could it be?”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkle. “Magic. A symbol throughout the ages. Life and death. It is always there. It shows us that there is more than what we know or understand. It is light in the darkness, the pull on the ocean, a beacon to those afraid.”
I let her words sink in. There is a moment of pause. It’s peaceful. I look at the moon and imagine it for what she said. I see the white glow around the circle. “You see the beauty in everything, Elizabeth.”
“Don’t you?” She asks.
Her words strike a chord with me. Perhaps I used to, once upon a time, when I was an innocent. More so than not I have seen storm clouds, rain, dark skies, and ulterior motives.
“No.”
She places her hand on my shoulder. “That is the saddest thing I have heard in a long time.”
Character Glossary
Pride Family
Raven Pride
Jameson Pride (Raven’s adopted father)
Alice Pride (Raven’s birth mother)
Benjamin Shaw (Raven’s birth father)
Gertrude Pride (Raven’s grandmother)
Jack Pride (Raven’s Uncle – adopted)
Other characters
Emmett White
Tom Smith
Aiden Blackworth
Elizabeth May
Benjamin Shaw
Nora Bonnetta
Tabitha
About the Author
R. L. Weeks is an award-winning, bestselling author of Young Adult Paranormal and Fantasy books. She is the co-author of the bestselling Willow Woods series.
Rebecca also enjoys travelling, designing, and reading fantasy books.
As well as writing twisted tales for teens and adults, she designs covers and logos and also runs Enchanted Anthologies, which publishes twelve anthologies a year, the majority of which are co-authored. She is a partner of Bella Tulip Publishing, which guides new authors and helps them on their publishing journey. The written word is her passion, especially fiction, as she believes that our imaginations are one of our greatest gifts.
You can email Rebecca with any comments at [email protected] or connect with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/rlweeksauthor1, Twitter @authorrlweeks, and Instagram: R. L. WEEKS
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Raven’s Coloring Book
Sometimes the stresses of everyday life can become too much. Colouring has been proven to relax the mind, even in adults. We have created a colouring book inspired by Raven’s Sight, featuring 15 gothic designs
What you get: 15 original colouring pages, printed on one side only to allow easy removal of pages.
Get it now on Amazon – https://amzn.to/2HSovuz
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Table of Contents
The Unforgiven (An Anthology)
Acknowledgments
(Untitled)
(Untitled)
Quote
Dedication
Poem
(Untitled)
One
TwO
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
I roll my eyes. I hate that he’s right and change the subject. “Do you want to know about Benjamin Shaw’s death or not?” Fifteen
Sixteen
(Untitled)
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
RAVEN’S GHOST
ONE
TWO
Character Glossary
About the Author
Raven’s Coloring Book
Newsletter
