by Sherry Soule
“No it’s not,” I interrupted. “She’s a first born child from one of the founding families. She was on the supernatural hit list…” I paused, then said, “I know how Trent feels about Ravenhurst and Paige’s disappearance, but what does Maxwell say about all this?”
Evans sighed. “Maxwell is aware there is something malign in this house and he’s worried about Trent’s safety. But they refuse to sell and they won’t move. Maxwell’s so bloody obstinate.” He blew out a breath and said, “Don’t give up hope. Not yet…”
He hadn’t asked a question, but I nodded anyway.
Evans regarded me silently, shadows gathering around his eyes. “Shiloh”—he softly smiled and stared at me— “I’d like to tell you something that I admire about you.” He removed his glasses and wiped them on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “When I found out about your Wiccan background and your audacity in applying to work here—even when I presumed you knew it was dangerous—I hired you over all the other applicants. Do you know why?” I shook my head and he added, “Because I saw something in you. Real courage. You can help. But by staying composed. And studying. Knowledge is power. Evil thrives on fear. Chaos.”
What does he know? It wasn’t courage I’d displayed. No—it was stupidity. Stupid girl trying to break a stupid curse. I was a big fat disappointment as a witch.
Completely chastised, I smiled with teary eyes. “You’re right…thanks for the pep talk.” I grabbed a book and returned to my paranormal studies.
The next day was Saturday, so I slept in late. Besides, it was my birthday. Weeks earlier, I’d scheduled my birthday party for July so my grandparents could come. After Paige’s disappearance, I’d called my friends to cancel. But Ariana and Jada had talked me out of it. They said Paige would want me to celebrate my sweet sixteen. Not mourn forever. Ariana added that we could even treat the party as our own way of saying goodbye to Paige. I’d cried when she said that, but agreed to keep the party as scheduled.
Sure, my party came at a hard time in my life, but even a witch-in-training stalked by a demon needs to have a little fun. And did I mention it has been sixteen years of sucky birthdays?
After relaxing most of the day and practicing spells in my room, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and decided to emphasize my eyes with an outline of smoky gray eye shadow. Then I smudged the line andadded a streak of face glitter at the corner of each eye. I used a flatiron on my hair, making it smooth and straight.
I stepped back. I looked…umm…different. Not because I usually didn’t wear much makeup. No, it was something else. “You’re not like other girls,” I told my reflection.
It had been forever since I’d taken a real look at myself. Not since my suicide attempt. I hadn’t been able to face myself. Now, looking in the mirror was like gazing into the face of a different girl. A girl with secrets flashing in her bronze eyes and features that imprinted her with a characteristic of wildness. Inner strength. Like silk over steel. I put on a pair of funky fishnet stockings with a denim skirt and a long-sleeved shirt with low heels, then slid on a pair of big hoop earrings. Metamorphosis complete. Ready to party!
Then I thought of Paige. No more birthdays for her. My heart ached. But I mentally shook myself and gave my reflection one more look, deciding that I’d make sure my friends had fun tonight. My parents were waiting in the living room by the time I emerged. Dad looked handsome in his beige corduroy jacket over a white button-down shirt and slacks. Jillian’s eyebrow raised a fraction when I entered the room. Her cerise dress was low enough to glimpse cleavage and hung at her thighs, exposing her smooth legs. Perfection. But at what price? Was she using witchcraft to stay beautiful?
Ariana walked through the front door minutes later in an indigo dress. Funky and adorable. Just like her. Then I peered closer, noting blood-shot eyes that glimmered with unshed tears. “Happy belated birthday, Shiloh,” she said, forcing so much enthusiasm she almost shouted. “Love your outfit! You look pretty.”
If she could make my birthday happy, even after Paige’s disappearance, so could I. I smiled. “Thanks. I’m feeling jaunty!” We giggled and hugged. I breathed the scent of spring-scented dryer sheets and honeysuckle clinging to her. So her. So real. I had to solve this thing with Shadow Man. Couldn’t let any other friends die.
At seven o’clock, more guests arrived. Festive colored steamers hung from the ceiling in the dining room. A pink tablecloth covered the table, which was laden with tiny sandwiches, an assortment food, and a crystal bowl of punch. Alicia Keys’s voice poured from the stereo. Dad stood next to my grandparents, Naomi and Samuel Ravenwolf, and he beckoned me over. Even though they lived in Castro Valley, about a half hour south of San Francisco, I rarely saw them. They used the excuse that they had to work their ranch as explanation for why they rarely came to visit anymore, but sometimes I wondered if they simply couldn’t stand being around Jillian. Or if maybe the big family fight during my tenth birthday had chased them off.
I excused myself from Ari and went over to greet my grandparents, but was stopped by my grandmother’s loud voice bouncing around the room. “Back in my day, if you were lucky, you’d discover your chickens or cats beheaded. Now, there are missing children, and only because no one has made an offering in years. You’d be wise to go over there and appease him with an animal sacrifice or…”
I stood staring at her, open-mouthed, before my dad’s waving hands caught my attention. Was he trying to tell her to shut up? Grandma Naomi’s mouth clamped shut, but she smiled when she caught sight of me. I pushed past my dad and came up to her.
“Shiloh, honey.” Grandma Naomi crushed me against her, and the aroma of rosemary and sage reminded me how much I loved my grandmother and missed her.
Grandma kissed my cheek. “Missed you. I’m glad you didn’t mind putting off your party so we could come.” She held me at arm’s length. Her dark chocolate eyes raked over me, from my face all the way down to my toes. Grandma styled her charcoal hair into a braid, emphasizing her high cheekbones, long nose, and wide mouth. The dominant features of our Sioux ancestors. Her beige cotton dress was plain, but the exquisite necklace of turquoise and mosaic earrings dangling from her lobes brightened her outfit. She looked great, as usual.
“No prob. My birthday wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Naomi, let the girl alone. It’s my turn to say hello,” Grandpa Samuel said, then hugged me, my head barely reaching his chest. One wizened hand smoothed back his ebony hair, streaked with gray, and the other tugged at his turquoise bolo-tie. Like my dad, he had a dominant nose and deep-set brown eyes.
Grandma laid a hand on my shoulder and in a quiet tone said, “Stay on the right path. Do not stray from the old ways. Remember to honor Wakan Tanka, for it was from the Great Spirit whence the Sioux came. Never cause shame to fall upon the family. Understand what’s in your heart to be true. Do you understand, daughter?”
I heard and felt deep in my soul what she was trying to say and I shuddered. Not from the cold, but from a darkness that seemed to stir within me and rebel at her wise words even as the archaic Sioux magick of my ancestors whirled around us like smoke from a ceremonial fire. My grandmother kept in her heart the knowledge of the Wise Women of the Sioux nation. Their ancient ways were embedded in her blood. In my blood. She was still considered a shaman among our people, an intermediary between the human and spirit world. I’d always known my ability of sight had come from her.
“Ma, let Shiloh greet her guests,” Dad said, then turned to me. “Try to have fun, lambchop.”
I hugged Grandma once more before joining my friends near the food.
“Hey guys.” We met in a group hug, everyone looking solemn.
“Poor Paige. Freaky, huh? Especially since she was the one who told us about the curse,” Jada said.
“I know…they never found her body,” I said. Shivers racked me. “There are flyers up with her picture all over town…”
“I’m gonna miss her.�
�� Ariana put her arm around me and sniffled.
“I haven’t seen her since school ended.” Jada tilted her head. “I’ve been stuck staying with my cousin in Castro Valley until my parents return from a mission in South Africa.” Jada’s parents were teachers and missionaries that spent their summers in third world countries preaching the gospel. Maybe they should be home now, protecting their own child.
I wiped at a tear that spilled from my eye. “Is there a funeral?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“Her family’s gonna mourn in private. No body to bury.” Jada turned to me. “You’re still working at Ravenhurst? You’re not going to quit after what happened to Paige?”
“No…should I? I mean, I need the job.” And I needed to find out how to stop Esael from stealing more of the town’s kids. Like Jada. Trent. Ariana. Me.
Jada struggled to make eye contact. “I might have an idea that could help. But I don’t wanna talk about it here.”
“Have you talked to Trent since Paige’s disappearance?” Ariana bumped my shoulder.
“No,” I said with a heavy sigh. “He’s been scarce. I kinda bit his head off.”
A commotion at the door caught my attention. I heard Jillian’s voice, raised and sharp. I saw my mother, agitated, shifting from foot to foot, speaking to someone who’d just entered.
“Ohmygod,” I whispered. “No way.”
“What?” Ariana asked.
I shook my head. How to explain how startled I was to see my aunt Lauren at my door? Jillian stalked away, and Lauren’s eyes caught mine. She stared at me with such a beseeching look that my heart skipped a beat. “I’ll be back in a sec,” I said and walked across the room.
My aunt held as still as a statue as I approached. I gave her a hug, which she warmly returned. Her perfume, lavender—feminine, yet sharp—tickled my senses. “Hi, Aunt Lauren. How did you manage an invite?” I whispered.
“Merry meet, Shiloh! Well, I called your dad and told him to smooth it over with Jillian,” she said with a tremulous smile. “Since I last saw you, I’ve decided to take a more active part in your life. Despite our family’s differences, I wanted to see you. Your dad said you were celebrating your birthday today, so I …” She slowly raised her hand to touch my hair, brushing it off my forehead. Her touch soft. Her gaze misty. “Oh, Shiloh, you’re so grownup.”
“We need to talk—”
“Not here, honey. Soon.” Aunt Lauren touched my arm. Her fingers wrapped over the scar imprinted into my skin. She leaned closer and handed me a tiny box. “I want you to know, I’m here to help…I have something special for you.” Her voice was full of magick and intensity.
I pried open the box. Inside was a pentacle charm suspended from a delicate silver chain. She took the necklace from the box and draped it around my throat.
“It’s beautiful, Aunt Lauren.” My hand fiddled with the charm.
“It’s an old Broussard heirloom. This is a Pentagram—a sort of talisman bequeathed to the women in our family. Most people consider this symbol to be evil, but it’s merely an emblem of magick or Wicca. Each corner stands for one of the elements: earth, wind, water, fire, and spirit. It will offer you some protection against dark forces.”
“Thank you, I love it.” I hugged her hard. “But protect me from what?” Although I probably knew the answer.
The blue seeds of her eyes showed unease, but her aura was sunlight and saffron. “Things…other witches.”
Dad strode across the room. A wide grin overtook his features. He took Aunt Lauren’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Hello Lauren. Such an attractive top. Matches the color of your eyes. Are you still teaching third grade?”
Aunt Lauren’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, they’re like the children I never had…”
Dad stiffened, his eyes sad. He cleared his throat. “Can I offer you punch?”
“I’d love a glass.” Aunt Lauren’s eyes lit with an inner vitality when she smiled. Then her face darkened. I noticed Jillian fix her glittering eyes on Aunt Lauren and saw that Aunt Lauren glared back. Invisible sparks flew across the room. The atmosphere became thick with undercurrents and friction I sensed but didn’t understand.
The doorbell chimed.
“I’ll get it.” Jillian strolled to the door, a bouquet of sweet roses drifted across the room as she passed us. She opened the door. When I saw who was standing there, my heart spluttered hyperactively. My breath sucked in. No way.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“I’m Trent Donovan—here for Shiloh’s party.” Trent’s drawl sounded deep and sensuous. “How do you do?” He held out his hand but Jillian ignored it.
A hushed murmur stretched throughout the room. I followed Ariana’s gaze to where Trent stood. My head shook in denial.
“Fantastic. Come in.” Jillian led him into the dining room.
One look at him, and my emotions ran rampant. Trent shrugged off his black leather jacket, under which he wore a long-sleeved black shirt, faded jeans, and badass biker boots. God, those incredible eyes, muscular chest and sexy smile—yep, he’s smoldering too.
I licked my lips. My underarms grew damp. I pulled at the sleeve of my blouse, making sure the scar on my arm was covered. Ariana appeared beside me and elbowed me in the ribs, making me jump. “You’re such a smitten kitten.”
My breath staggered. “Ohmygosh.”
Trent advanced with a smile. “Hey, you.” He bestowed that cocky grin on Ariana. “And you must be?”
“Ariana. Nice to meet you, Trent.”
While I stood there, gaping like a moron, I noticed Ariana holding back a smirk.
I like him. Seriously like him. But I needed to play it cool and not be too obvious. I just prayed it didn’t show on my face. Too bad there wasn’t a psychic barricade for hiding overactive hormones. And he just wanted to be friends. And may I add that it totally sucked?
Because for once in my life, I wanted to be that girl. Just once. You know, the unpopular girl who gets the hunky guy. Sort of Sixteen Candles or She’s All That.
His voice interrupted my inner babble. “Shiloh, you look really pretty.”
Drawing a deep breath, I composed myself. “Thanks.”
He tapped a finger on his chin. “There’s something different about you.”
Ohmygosh, did he know? Did he sense I was different? A magnet for the supernatural?
“It’s your hair.”
Whew. Panicked for nothing. Breathe Shiloh. Act cool.
He smiled an uneven bad boy smirk that made my nerves jangly. “What did you do differently? The last time we hung out it was sorta wavy.”
“Used a flat-iron. No biggie.”
“I like it,” Ariana said, coming to my defense.
“I meant I like it too,” Trent said, grinning like a wolf. “Wicked sexy.”
Ariana tapped my shoulder. “That’s my cue to get some punch.” She left us standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.
I wondered why he hadn’t called. Why he hadn’t bothered to get in touch with me after one of my friends disappeared at his house. And now he was at my party, looking extra-smoking hot and delicious but not even bringing up Paige...
“I hope you’re still working at Ravenhurst.” He frowned. “But I wouldn’t blame you if you quit.”
That’s no longer an option. I need Evans’ guidance more than ever.
“Nah. I’ll stick around.” My eyes strayed to his full lips. Shiloh, act normal and do not think about smooches. “Uh, what are you doing here?”
Very smoochable (it’s a word!), sexy lips—
“Heard about your party and I thought I’d drop by.” A smug grin lifted the corners of his generous mouth. “Is that cool?” He kept my dad’s recliner between us, his eyes fixed intently on mine.
“Yeah, I guess.” I traveled around the chair, but he shuffled in the opposite direction. He had perfect posture, his shoulders back and arms crossed. Feeling hurt and rejected, I pressed my hand to my sto
mach. Not the same guy I’d hung out with and made out with a week ago. That guy had been sorta sweet and charming. I’m not sure which I liked better.
“You’re acting strange.”
“No, I’m not.” Trent glanced around. My eyes followed his about the room. Dad watched us with a worried frown. Correction: everybody watched us.
Something bugged me concerning his change of attitude. I leaned toward him. “What’s with you tonight? What’s with the uber cool guy act?”
“Everyone’s watching.”
“So?”
His expressive face changed and grew somber. “My uncle says you’re a fast learner. Doing a great job.”
I so do not get this guy. Super cocky then super sensitive? Huh? I gave myself a mental shake, then responded to his comment. “He’s an excellent teacher. Very knowledgeable guy. But don’t change the subject.”
Trent’s eyes became flat and unreadable. Eyes that had swallowed too much pain and in which the twinkling of trust had long expired. “You haven’t said anything to anyone, have you?” he asked, voice soft and urgent. “About Ravenhurst being haunted?”
“Yeah. Sure. Because people are sooo believing in this sort of thing.”
So that’s why he’s acting all snooty. Afraid I’ve been talking trash about Ravenhurst.
“I’d appreciate if you kept it that way, cool?”
Nodding, I said, “Sure. Yeah—I get it.”
He hitched forward slightly, breathing sharp. “Anyway, thanks for having me,” he said, before strolling away.
Ariana was instantly beside me. “What were you guys whispering about?”
“Nothing.”
“Puh-lease.” She pinched my arm, giggling. “You’ve got lovesick face.”
“I do not—”
Jillian approached us with a wrinkled brow. “Ariana, I need to talk to Shiloh.”
