The Forest of Shadow and Bones

by Jessica Sorensen

  She teases my hair with her fingers before stepping back and looking at her handiwork. “All right, I think I’m done.”

  I’d feel like a doll; except, I’m used to Eve’s primping by now. She’s been doing it to me from the time we were fourteen and started wearing makeup. In a way, she’s kind of like the big sister I never had. Sometimes, though, I feel like I’m her older sister, too, like whenever I’m keeping her away from guys I know are trouble.

  “Crap.” She frowns at her reflection, combs her fingers through her hair, then plugs in the straightening iron. “Give me a minute. My hair looks like shit. I bought this new straightening iron the other day, and it sucks.”

  “Take as long as you want. I’m not in a hurry,” I say as I head for the doorway.

  “You better have fun tonight,” she calls after me. “You look too hot to spend the entire night sulking in a corner.”

  “I’ll try my best.” I rush out of the room and down the hallway.

  I haven’t heard any crying for about ten minutes, so I cross my fingers that the dead guy—Hawk or whatever the hell his name is—has moved on. But when I step into the living room, my heart drops.

  Not only is Hawk hunched on my sofa with his head in his hands, but another dead guy is near the sliding glass door, casually leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans.

  What the fuck? Never have I crossed paths with two ghosts simultaneously. God, I hope this isn’t going to become a new trait. I can barely deal with one ghost as it is. What will I do if groups and groups of them start popping up at my house or during classes or when I’m at the gym?

  I linger at the end of the hallway, deciding what to do. Should I back out of the room and hope the newbie ghost just hangs around here while I go out? Yeah, I doubt that’s going to happen.

  He looks around my age with short, dark brown hair and the craziest eyes I’ve ever seen on any guy, dead or living. One is a sparkling silver and the other a vibrant shade of teal, and both are framed with thick, dark lashes, giving the impression he’s wearing eyeliner.

  He’s dressed head to toe in black, all the way from his clunky black boots to the collar of his long-sleeved thermal shirt. I bet, when he was alive, he was probably considered hot in a gothic, bad-boy sort of way.

  I study him, trying to figure out if he’s a number one, two, three, or four, but his neutral expression reveals nothing.

  “You’re pretty pathetic if you ask me,” goth-boy says with his eyes fixed on Hawk. “So you’re dead. Get over it.”

  His casual, lucid statement shocks me enough that it takes me a beat or two to find my voice.

  “He just found out,” I tell him. “Cut him some slack.”

  His intense gaze shifts to me. “Why should I? I’m dead, and you don’t see me crying about it.”

  “How do you know you’re dead?” I ask, stunned, having never met a ghost who knows they’re dead.

  He cocks a brow at me. “How do you know you’re alive?”

  Okay, so he’s a snarky ghost. I’m not sure I’ve ever met one of those before, either. Usually, they’re either depressed or angry.

  I touch my hand to my chest. “I know because I can feel my heart beating.”

  The corners of his lips pull into a smirk. “Are you sure about that? Maybe, after you die, you still think your heart is beating. Maybe you died, and you don’t know it. Maybe I’m here to break the news to you.”

  “I …” I have no idea how to respond to that. “I’m not dead. I’d know if I was.”

  He nods his head at the guy. “Just like he did back when you first bumped into him at the campus?”

  I recoil, a cold shiver trickling down my spine. “How did you know I met him at the campus?”

  He shrugs, but his eyes glimmer mischievously. “Lucky guess.”

  He’s lying, but why? Why was he watching me? From what I thought, ghosts appear to me to get answers, not to watch me from the shadows. Have I been wrong all this time? Do they watch me before they approach me?

  “Why are you here if you don’t need me to tell you that you’re dead?” I ask, swallowing nervously.

  The mischief in his eyes diminishes as he straightens his stance and steps toward me. “Because I need your help.” He slowly crosses the room, taking calculated steps.

  Every part of me screams to back up, not to let him get close to me, but I remain frozen in place as I watch him get closer and closer until he stops right in front of me. Then the strangest scent of cookies floods my nostrils as I take an uneven breath.

  “What do you need help with?” I ask.

  He swallows hard, all the humor vanishing from his eyes. The look makes my stomach churn. What the hell is he about to ask me?

  He reaches for my cheek, about to touch me, and my heart thunders in my chest. Usually, I step back from ghosts, not wanting to feel their death. And, don’t get me wrong; I want to step back. But every fiber of my being won’t allow me to budge, my feet remaining glued to the carpet beneath my shoes.

  He pauses a sliver of an inch away from my cheek. “I need help finding—”

  “All right, let’s get our sexy asses going!” Eve hollers as she skips out of the hallway. “It’s party time.”

  Goth ghost’s eyes widen for a microsecond before he flies back through the wall and disappears. Seconds later, the dead guy sitting on my sofa goes poof.

  I stand there, stunned, gaping at the empty living room. What the hell just happened?

  Eve frowns when she catches sight me. “What’s wrong? Why does it look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

  God, I wish I could tell her how right she is.

  I try to shake the uneasiness off and put a smile on my face. “I’m just tired. But I’m sure I’ll wake up when we get to the club.”

  “You better,” she warns, clicking her leather clutch closed. “You’re going to have fun tonight whether you like it or not.”

  If only it were that simple to have fun. To dance and drink and laugh without jumping every time a stranger approached me. To not think about what just happened. How two ghosts appeared to me at the same time. How they vanished with no explanation. How one was going to touch me. How I kind of wanted him to.

  Eve fishes her phone out of her bra as it buzzes. “Our cab’s downstairs,” she says as she reads the message. Then she puts her phone away and opens the door. “Let’s go have some fun! And make sure you grab your fake ID.”

  Scooping up my purse from off the table near the door, I cast one last glance back at my living room. Hawk and Goth are still gone, but I have a feeling goth-boy will be back in my life. And really, really soon.

  Five

  Dash

  I want to touch her more than I’ve ever wanted to touch anyone. I’ve never felt anything so powerful: no spell, no drug, not even sex. Still, I don’t know the cause of it, what makes me so drawn to Sway.

  While she seems like she’s going to let me touch her, she looks freaked the fuck out. Her uneasy reaction has me a little bit concerned. I mean, how am I supposed to ask her to help me find the Forest of Shadow and Bones if she gets all worked up by my ghostly presence? What I need is a way to charm her, something I used to be good at. But now that I’m dead, my game feels a little off. Plus, apparently, I have an unseen force going against me, something I learn the moment I open my mouth to ask Sway for help.

  Before the statement can fully leave my lips, I’m jerked back out of her apartment and tossed outside. I fly across the grass, soar over the front section of the apartment, and land in the middle of the street, flat on my ass.

  Well, that was fun.

  I’m starting to stand up when headlights beam through the darkness and spotlight across the road. I have zero time to react as a car zooms right toward me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the impact. But as the vehicle passes through my body, I remember I’m dead.

  Man, this whole dead thing is really going to t
ake some time to get used to.

  Shoving away the shock, I hike to the side of the street and look up at Sway’s place on the third floor of the apartment building. I’m not sure what happened, why I was thrown out of her place, whether it was Sway or maybe her friend. Although, I didn’t get a paranormal vibe from her friend, so my bet is Sway has some sort of power other than just talking to the dead.

  Dammit, this journey to the Forest of Shadow and Bones is becoming a pain in the ass.

  Frustration erupts through me. Frustrated that I’m dead, that I’m here on the side of the road, that I have no clue what’s going on, that I’m nowhere near close to finding the forest.

  “Shit, this sucks!” I move to kick a rock, but the tip of my boot slips right through it, and instead, I end up just kicking air, which isn’t nearly as therapeutic.

  Sighing, I force myself to settle down and concentrate on the task at hand. I jog back across the parking lot toward the stairway of Sway’s apartment building. But as I step up onto the first stair, I slam into an invisible wall. The force is powerful enough to knock me back on my ass.

  Okay, this is getting really old.

  Pushing to my feet, I assess the inclined stairway. I reach forward to test the area, and sure enough, my hand brushes an ice-cold, invisible surface.

  All right, who the hell is doing this? Sway, or something else, like say, the shadowy figure I tried to track down earlier?

  Doubtful since I’m pretty sure the wall is from a blocking spell someone put on me. The only good thing is that the spell will wear off eventually.

  I scan the front section of the apartment, the dimly lit parking lot, and a nearby cluster of trees. Was the shadowy figure a warlock maybe? A witch?

  Vivianne’s threat crosses my mind, the one she made right before she levitated my body into the dumpster. Perhaps she’s the one doing this. Is she out there, watching me? Tormenting me? If she is, I can’t see her. The only people around are human, going to and from their places, climbing into cars, completely unaware they’re being watched by a ghost.

  “Just where are you hiding, you little wench?” I whisper to the wind. “And what game are you playing?”

  Familiar voices abruptly float down from above.

  Looking up, I spot Sway and her friend heading toward the bottom floor, all dressed up and ready to go out.

  I align my back to the wall and observe Sway from the shadows as she trots down the stairs, her red dress swishing just above her knees on her long legs. She looks lost in thought as she tucks a strand of her long, brown hair behind her ear and chews on her glossy lip, her big, green eyes full of worry.

  She’s beautiful. That’s something I noticed the second I saw her. The other thing I noticed was the haunted look in her eyes.

  “We’re going to have so much fun!” her friend singsongs, skipping down the steps.

  Sway smiles, but I recognize the fake happiness behind it. I’ve done it a million times myself.

  “Yeah, I can’t wait,” Sway replies, letting her hand trail down the railing as they near the second stairwell platform.

  “Will has some pretty hot friends who are going to be there with him.” Her friend beams cheerfully. “Maybe I can set you up.”

  Sway repeats the fake smile, and her friend grins back, completely oblivious. I don’t know how she can’t see something is obviously bothering Sway. Then again, most of my friends never could see through my plastic smiles and bullshit happiness. Of course, that really wasn’t their fault. No one knew about Vivianne and how my father forced me to be her linea vitam. I never told anyone, except my twin brother Jax.

  I smash my lips together, wondering what Jax will do if and when he finds out I’ve died. We weren’t super close or anything, but I’m sure he’ll be upset.

  I need to fix this. Now. Before anyone finds out I’m dead. And I need to warn him about Vivianne.

  Tearing myself away from my worried thoughts, I focus back on Sway, my solution out of this mess. I fasten my gaze on her as she reaches the final stair. I feel that magnetic pull to her again, and my hand lifts up to touch her, no longer feeling in control of my own body.

  I want to touch her. Just once.

  But the wall forms in front of me and repels me back against the side of the apartment.

  Grr! Whoever is doing this is going to pay.

  Sway doesn’t even so much as glance in my direction, as if she can no longer see me. Shit, maybe the spell is making it so she can’t.

  I ball my hands into fists and release a growl. What the fuck is going on?

  If I can’t get past this wall soon, my chance of being alive again will be gone forever. Then no one will ever find out what Vivianne’s really up to, about the death and pain she wants to bring to the world. Plus, I’ll be dead for all eternity, which doesn’t sound that fantastic.

  Determined not to let Sway out of my sight, I follow her down the sidewalk and to a cab parked at the curb. When she opens the door and ducks into the backseat, the wall forces me to a halt.

  Grinding my teeth, I inch forward until my chest and toes are lightly pressing against the wall. Then I tilt my head and strain my ears, begging my superpower hearing to give me something—anything—like maybe the address she’s going to. The windows are cracked, so I manage to make out her voice.

  “Take us to The Steel Box over on Main and Fourth,” Sway tells the cab driver as she scoots across the backseat.

  “No, don’t take us there,” her friend interrupts, her speech slightly slurred. “Take us to The Black Dungeon.”

  “The Black Dungeon?” Sway asks, buckling her seatbelt. “What’s that?”

  “A really cool club I just heard of,” her friend says with a content sigh.

  “But what about Will?” Sway asks. “We’re supposed to meet him at The Steel Box.”

  “He texted me a few minutes ago,” her friend murmurs, “and told me there’s a change of plans.”

  “Okay …” Sway sounds uneasy. “Why have I never heard of this club before?”

  “It’s pretty exclusive,” the cab driver tells Sway. “Trust me, though; you’ll have a lot of fun.”

  Yeah, I bet they will. The Black Dungeon is a club where a shit ton of vampires hang out. A lot of fey, witches, and all sorts of creatures also go there to have a good time. And by a good time, I mean a good time doing evil things, like plotting world domination or murdering something or someone.

  So why is her friend suggesting this place? Better yet, how does the cab driver know about it?

  “Shit, I need to get her out of that cab,” I mutter in a panic. I rack my brain for an idea, some way to cause a diversion, but my ghostly being makes me utterly useless.

  Do something before the car pulls away!

  Just as I’m about to spring forward and attempt to fling myself through the invisible wall, the cab driver rotates around in his seat and makes direct eye contact with me.

  I carry his gaze. “What are you, asshole? And what are you up to?”

  An impish grin twists his dark blue lips, and his green eyes glow. “Say good-bye to your innocent friend and your chance at being alive again,” he mouths.

  “Fuck, he’s fey,” I breathe out.

  This is bad. Really, really bad. If the driver is fey, that means he has a connection to Vivianne, which means she probably knows what I’m up to and is going to try to stop me. And knowing Vivianne, she’ll have Sway killed in order to make that happen.

  The cab driver’s smile expands, his eyes glowing against the dark. Then he drives the car forward, the tires peeling against the asphalt.

  I start to race after the car, but then the shadowy figure springs out from behind a tree and slips inside the car.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. She doesn’t just have fey after her, but a …” Well, I really don’t know what that shadowy figure is.

  Not knowing what else to do, I run after them, hoping ghosts can move as fast as cars.

  Six
/>   Sway

  The drive to the Black Dungeon is shorter than I expected. It only takes a handful of minutes before the cab comes to a stop. At least, I think it only takes a few minutes. But when I straighten in the seat and check the GPS on the dash, confusion sets in.

  Fifty miles? How the hell did we get here so fast? Did I fall asleep?

  “That’ll be ten bucks,” the driver announces as he parks the car in the center of a dark alley.

  I dare a glimpse around at the steel buildings spray-painted with unrecognizable marks then look at Eve.

  “Are you sure you want to go to this club?” I ask. “This place seems kind of sketchy.”

  She looks up from her phone with a giddy smile on her face. “Of course I want to go, silly. Will’s going to be here.”

  While I’m fairly sure she didn’t have anything to drink at my place, the slur to her speech and dazed look in her eyes makes me question whether she knocked back shots before she came over. Then again, she seemed perfectly sober until we got into the cab …

  “Come on, ladies; I don’t have all night,” the cab driver says, thrumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Pay the fare and get out.”

  Before I can say anything, Eve hops out and leaves me to pay.

  I dig out a ten from my wallet, noting the unusually low price.

  “I have cheaper fare for pretty girls,” the cab driver explains, as if reading my mind.

  A chill slithers up my spine as he snatches the money from my hand. Not only is the guy giving me the heebie-jeebies, but the smile on his face is the epitome of sinister.