Beautifully Broken

by Sherry Soule

  My body jelled into ice. My pulse hammered. Overhead, the chandelier swung dangerously. An onyx mist swirled past me, brushing my clothes. It shoved me from behind. I stumbled into a table. I broke the sensation of terror and moved, flailing my arms at the unseen intruder.

  Vaporous blackness circled the huge chandelier like a tornado. The chandelier swayed precariously back and forth. Faster and faster. Then I heard a loud crack.

  Something hit me from behind, propelling me forward. My body hit the worn rug with a thud and I let out a startled, “Oomph!” as I went down.

  A thunderous crash proceeded, echoing throughout Ravenhurst. Shards of glass flew at my face and pricked my skin. Dust and grime saturated the air.

  My back and butt throbbed from the sudden body slam. Trent’s body covered mine, the beat of his heart pounding against my chest, heavy and fast. I peered over Trent’s shoulder, and saw what had caused the commotion. The gold chandelier drooped to one side, listing on the ground, inches from where I’d been standing only seconds ago.

  Trent pushed himself up on his hands, then leaned over me. His mouth was slightly open and his heavy breathing grazed my face. His body heat warmed me, chasing away the chills that had been forced into my system when the blackness had attacked. His scent filled me, imbibing me with comfort. His brilliant emerald eyes conveyed a depth of concern that touched my heart.

  “Are you hurt?” He pushed away from me and sat back on his heels. “That was crazy-weird.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. “Weird.” I clasped his outstretched hand and let him pull me up.

  Trent grinned, dusting himself off. “You realize that in certain cultures, you would become responsible for my safety, or you’d provide an offering, like a goat, until the debt was paid.” Trent stared into my eyes, obviously unconscious of their power. “Sure you’re all right?”

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m glad you have such quick reflexes. Guess I owe you a goat. Although—you hit like a linebacker.”

  He laughed. “I played rugby in school. A good thing too, or you would’ve gotten smooshed.”

  Now I owe this hunk my life. Not a bad person to be indebted too, if you ask me.

  Black mist circled the ceiling once where the fixture had hung before the darkness swirled, then rushed out the archway into the bowels of the house. Shadow Man. He’d followed me here. He’d found me in Ravenhurst. My eyes watered. I gaped at the broken chandelier before I found Trent’s green gaze.

  Was the chandelier meant to fall on Trent, or me? Am I the next victim on the supernatural hit list? I was slammed in the gut with a feeling that plainly said YES!

  I wanted to believe the chandelier was super old, but my gut told me that lying to myself wasn’t going to help me deal with the real issue at hand—something wanted me dead. The black shadow was different than the other shadows that had tormented me for years. Brought in the big guns—Shadow Man. The darkness was definitely out to get me.

  Now I was freaked out about working here, and I wasn’t wild about another confrontation with Shadow Man. Not to mention, I didn’t have a clue of how to stop him. But I had to do something. A sense of purpose formed within me, giving me strength. Being haunted most of my life had been scary—downright terrifying at times. But ever since Shadow Man had swirled into existence in my bedroom, everything had changed. To keep alive, I had to change too. Had to be brave. Face the fear. Face Shadow Man. I was stuck in this town for another two years, and I wasn’t going to be next on the supernatural hit list.

  But what the heck could I do? Just because I could see paranormals didn’t mean I knew how to protect myself from them. Or eliminate them. Yet. I bet those grimoires could help.

  But I did have a strategy. Sure, it wasn’t a great plan, but at least it was something I could do. Once I started my job at Ravenhurst, I’d summon the wraith and make her give me some answers. Then…well…then I’d figure out what to do after that.

  Yeah, that would work. Or it might get me killed.

  Because—duh—I was in the one place I should be avoiding. And I wasn’t totally dense. Working here would be dangerous. Tempting fate was never a good idea. Even stupid. But hey, I never claimed to be the smartest girl in town.

  Or I could just tell Trent I had changed my mind about the job—

  He grasped my hand. His touch was reassuring. Warm. Electric. That was all the incentive I needed. No way was I going to quit now. The fluttery feeling in my stomach became extreme. My inner thighs quivered and my breathing increased. I knew he felt my body tremble. No way was I going to quit now. Working here meant I’d get to hang out with yummy, wicked-cute Trent Donovan all summer.

  Decision made.

  “Let’s go. The maid will clean this mess up. It was ancient and probably needed to be rewired anyway.” He urged me from the room and we went back to our cleanup chores.

  In the other rooms, we removed dingy gray sheets draped over pieces of furniture, parted the drapes to expose filmy lace curtains underneath and opened the windows. Occasionally our arms would brush against each other and I thought about how buffed and handsome he was, and how much I wanted him to hold my hand again.

  Back in the parlor, I gazed out the stained-glass windows. The vastness of the yard extended past an empty swimming pool and tennis courts. The breeze rattled the shutters and whipped through the house, causing the drapes to billow. The thud of a door banging open made me flinch.

  “Shiloh.” A disembodied voice whispered by my ear. I turned to see Trent across the room, fully focused on pulling a sheet off an old painting. He had not spoken. But I knew that voice.

  “Stay and fight,” the wraith murmured. “You must survive. Use your magick.”

  My gaze darted around the room. Aw, crud. Not now.

  Trent struggled to pry open a window that appeared painted shut. His taut muscles rippled beneath his shirt. His biceps strained and tiny beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He managed to wrestle open the window. He parted the lace curtains and rested his hands on the windowsill. “Nice day—”

  The window shot downward, onto the back of Trent’s hands. He yelped in pain. I ran over to him and struggled to force the windowpane up. It refused to budge. I tugged harder. Perspiration dampened my forehead.

  Shadows of terrible greyness surrounded us. Thick as a miasma. Twisting shapes whispered my name. The sun ducked behind a passing cloud and the sky darkened. Out the window, the wraith appeared in the garden, flickering in her dingy gown.

  Her pale lips didn’t move. Yet her voice sounded, as desiccated as withered bone. Like dry crackling parchment. “Dead blue skies and broken hearts reign here. There is no sanctuary in the sunlight for you now.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Trent moaned and the noise spurred me into action. I grunted and strained to yank up the window. Even though I put all my weight into the effort, the window wouldn’t budge. I didn’t know how to free Trent’s hands. I couldn’t help him. My heart twisted at the sight of his face contorted in pain.

  The wraith hovered close, her blue eyes glittering. Shadows swarmed her like bees around a hive. Within the ebony shapes, red eyes peered out. Obsidian fingers reached for her hand.

  Had she done this? Hurt Trent?

  Suddenly pissed beyond words, resentment brewed inside me. It shredded the fear and tossed it away.

  Stupid ghost! You can stalk me. You can send shadows after me. You can even try to crush me with old, dirty chandeliers. But nobody messes with my would-be boyfriend!

  Shadows, shimmering like black pearls, melted together. The wraith put a finger to her lips. Her sapphire eyes glowed. “You have magick, witch girl. Will it and it shall be.”

  Yeah. Sure. Easier said than done. Wait, why is she calling me witch girl?

  Still I closed my eyes and imagined the window freeing Trent’s wrists. Open! Now! Nothing happened.

  Charm padded across the floor on silent feet. She rubbed against my ankles, purred,
and looked me in the eye. Power sang in my veins. Magick twitched in my limbs. Warmed my blood. Just how the grimoires described. Like how I’d felt when I’d zapped Ashley. I was a witch. No doubt about it now. No confusion. I was a product of my ancestors. My heart pumped faster and faster. I touched the window with my scarred hand. I searched my memory for something I’d read in the grimoires. “Before my eyes, window—arise!”

  The windowpane flew upward. Trent staggered back, away from the window. Strong winds blew away the clouds and the sun flashed upon the yard. The world around me seemed insignificant again, no longer full of magick and secrets. Or gloom and darkness.

  “Are you hurt badly?” My voice shook.

  Trent’s eyes were damp. He flexed his wrists and rubbed the back of his hands. “Dammit. Everything’s falling apart.” Trent noticed my frightened expression and he calmed his tone, saying, “Don’t get freaked. I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t, but I knew enough about guys to not push the issue. His hands didn’t appear to be broken, so I let it go. My gaze searched for the wraith and the shades. They had vanished. Of course. Again.

  “Did I just hear you order the window to rise?” His eyebrows sloped downward, making him look like he held back a laugh.

  “Uh…I was just using positive thinking, you know. It’s, um, having a good mental attitude about things.” I forced a big phony smile and quickly added, “You need to ice your hands. Come with me.” I dragged him out of the room and had him direct me toward the kitchen, where I opened the freeze, then dumped ice from the tray into a paper towel. He placed his palms flat on the counter as I wrapped the ice, then eased it over the coloring bruises.

  I raised my eyes to find him watching me. His approving stare gave my heart a twinge. “I think you’re going to live.”

  “If we don’t have any more freaky accidents.” He grinned, his green-flecked gaze sparkling in the sunlight. His emotions settled in the crease between his eyes. “Now I feel like a jerk for asking you to come over today. I should get you a hardhat or something.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  We laughed, the tension easing. After some of the swelling went down, we went upstairs to the second floor, which had wings protruding east and west. I strived to appear relaxed and cheery, although a nagging sense of dread poked at me. Each room we entered had a feeling of abandonment. Mold and decay. Drapes tattered and moth-ridden. Wallpaper faded and stained.

  “Trent?” I’d thought he was behind me. When I turned, the hallway was empty. Corridors jutted this way and that, like a labyrinth of uncertainties. Footsteps came toward me. My nerves tensed immediately. My own magick thrummed in my blood. Vibrating through my skin. I held my breath and listened.

  “Hello? Anyone there?”

  An elongated complaint echoed from the floorboards through the wall. Cutting winds shrieked and found their way through the cracks. My skin prickled with forewarning as I stopped by a closed door. Shadows whispered. My gaze fixed on the doorknob…turning.

  A rippling sensation of cold air puckered my skin. Something stroked my hair. I whirled around. The hallway remained quiet. Illumination from the wall sconces elongated the shadows and the corridors appeared deep and scary. I looked outside a window. Ghosts were wreathed in fog. An unearthly scream seeped through the glass. Black shapes whooshed and eerily slithered between trees. Not good. I had to get outta there. Find Trent.

  I ran toward the main rotunda, as if the hounds of hell were close on my heels. Shadows slid over the walls like specters. My lungs hurt. Ready to explode. At the landing, I clung to the banister, gulping air, and staring back down the long hallway. I straighten and yelled, “Trent! Where are you?”

  “Here,” Trent hollered from a room I’d overlooked, near the rotunda.

  I crossed the hall and stood in the doorway, feeling my pulse slow. He folded a sheet, and then tossed it on a chair. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

  I wanted to tell him about the paranormals I’d seen. About the wraith haunting this house. But his tense expression and the pang in my gut, kept me silent. People never believed me anyway.

  Trent had bought sandwiches and sodas from the local deli before picking me up. We ate our lunch on the porch steps. I gobbled my turkey sandwich and washed it down with soda.

  “Sorry if I got your clothes dirty. Should’ve warned you about the condition of the house.” Trent nudged my shoulder with his. “Still friends?”

  I popped a chip into my mouth. “Yeah…friends.” Disappointment crept into my voice. Since he’d picked me up, the whole situation had tangled my emotions between super happy and insecure. Trent is never gonna be interested in me. Middle-class and strange. Like the younger sister he never had…

  “Sweet. Don’t have many friends yet.”

  “Plenty of girlfriends, though.” I leaned back and drank my soda.

  “What did you say?’

  I coughed into one hand, choking on my drink. “Plenty of mends, though. On the mansion. But I’m glad you think of me as a friend.” Even though I wanted more. Way more.

  He dipped his head and nodded. His gaze locked on mine. His eyes were intense and startling; I could drown in those mysterious green pools. My gaze dropped to his torso, noticing how his biceps rippled beneath his snug shirt. As if acting on its own, my hand reached out and touched his chest, and his pulse pounded beneath my touch. The overwhelming sensation that whirled around me was foreign, indescribable, and intangible. Wonderful.

  Oh, god, what was I doing? After he’d just told me we were only friends? Idiot!

  I went to snatch my hand away, but he caught my hand in his, startling me. I looked up to see warmth on his face. His smile held the promise of happiness. He scooted closer and held my gaze for a breath, glanced down. He leaned forward, as if he had no control over his actions. I inhaled his nice, soapy-clean scent, and all coherent thought left my head.

  His hands gripped my waist and he yanked me against him, his mouth covering mine in a deep kiss. The caress of his lips was softer than I’d imagined. An unfamiliar rush of excitement engulfed my senses. My hands wrapped around his neck, fingering his silky tousled hair. His moist lips seared a path from my lips to my neck, igniting a blaze of desire that flooded my skin everywhere his lips and roaming hands touched. Boys had kissed me before, but not like this. Never like this.

  Yes, yes…this is what I want and yearn for—affection. To fall in an impetuous head-over-heels kind of love. Let myself go. Surrender my heart…

  Trent unexpectedly broke the kiss. He jumped off the porch and blinked rapidly. He paced, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Sorry, I…” His voice sounded choked, his throat thick. He seemed to have trouble coughing the words up. “That wasn’t cool.”

  What wasn’t cool—the way I’d kissed him back? It was just a kiss.

  But my world has just tilted. Changed. It will never be the same.

  “It’s fine.” I gazed at the grass, the roses, anywhere but his face. Afraid my expression would appear too eager or disappointed. Tears threatened to reveal the hurt stabbing my chest. And I wasn’t sure how to respond to Trent’s sudden twinge of regret.

  You will not cry. You will not cry. Do not cry.

  “I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why I suddenly had to kiss you.”

  Huh? What does that mean?

  My watery gaze found his, and I shrugged. “It happens.”

  He laughed awkwardly. “Often?”

  A weak smile lifted my lips. “Nah. That would be a problem. Guys don’t like to date witches.”

  “Oh, really?” Trent avoided my stare. He took a seat at the other end of the porch. “Why?”

  I spoke quietly, “Remember? Because of the rumors.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “This ought to be good.”

  I tilted my head, and in my best eerie speaking voice said, “My ancestors were witches and I could put a curse on you.”

  He turned his face away. “My fa
mily is already cursed.”

  “Hey—I was only kidding. Don’t look so frowny.”

  “It’s true.” He picked dry leaves off the porch. “Our housekeeper told me my mother provoked a witch in town. That’s why she killed herself.” He shrugged. “It’s a stupid rumor—who believes that crap anyway?” His bottom lip pouted. I noticed a tiny scar that started at his lower lip and ended at the cleft in his chin. From a fight?

  He stumbled over his next words, swallowing thickly, “Sorry about, you know…the kiss. I was worried you’d think the only reason you got the job was because I liked you.” He smiled. “Which I’ll admit is partly true. I mean, I did put in a good word for you with Evans.”

  “Wait. Back up. You like me, how?”

  “I like you—like you. I lied. I don’t want to friends,” he said, then rushed on, “Something about you gnaws at me. You’re all I’ve been thinking about since we met. And I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He blew out a breath and ran fingers through his hair. Pink colored his cheeks. “Can we start over? Please?”

  My heart pounded in my chest. I heard my blood pumping fast in my ears. Like the magick that thrummed in my veins. Only this was way different. Better. He likes me! Ohmygod, the attraction isn’t one-sided.

  I sighed, tuning back into reality. “Uh…sure.”

  Trent threw a chip at me. “Are you still worrying about the job? I can tell you’re ambitious like me.” He took my hand, lacing our fingers. Electric tingles spread over my body. “Besides, you’ll get to work with a top-notch expert in the profession you want to pursue.”

  My feelings were still mixed. Something had led me here. Not a coincidence. And I knew three important things. One, Trent’s house was definitely haunted. Two, there was a mystery of the supernatural hit list. And three, the wraith was the key. And for me to get to the bottom of everything, I needed to be inside Ravenhurst. Needed to find the wraith. Needed to stop being scared of the dark. Would prying be dangerous and stupid? Hell yes.