Beautifully Broken

by Sherry Soule

  I stood and grabbed his hand, tugging him to his feet. We fell into a casual stride, and he laced his fingers with mine, sending a surge of unexpected anticipation through me.

  “What are your plans after high school? College?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I wanna go away to school. I plan to study architecture. And you? Always want to be a doctor?”

  Trent stopped walking and bent to grasp several rocks to throw into the sea. “Yeah, I find the human body fascinating. I plan on being a surgeon…but not if my dad has anything to say about it.”

  “What does he have to do with it? Besides paying for college?”

  “I have my own money. I don’t need his. My mother left me enough.” Trent gazed into the distance, his cheeks flushed with anger. He threw the pebbles into the surf as though he was pitching a baseball game. “He’s an ass,” he added through gritted teeth. Obscure emotions clouded his eyes. He gestured for us to sit upon another piece of driftwood.

  We sat facing the ocean and the glowing city lights across the bay. Strong sea breezes caressed my hot cheeks and tangled my hair. My gaze rested on his face. Eye candy like him was hard to ignore. The urge overcame me again. Trent was so gorgeous that I had the urge to kiss that generous mouth, taste those lips, and run my fingers through his tousled mane. Strong emotions flowed within me. Everything between us was becoming so intense. It was incredible and also a bit alarming. But not scary.

  I mentally sighed. I’m sixteen, and I’ve already found true love.

  As though urged by the same force, Trent cupped my chin and turned my face toward his. He leaned into me. I tilted my head, opened my mouth, and lowered my eyelids. Our lips a breath apart. My pulse pounded. His arms encircled me, our bodies squashed in a tight embrace. His lips lowered to my mouth. His tongue lightly played with mine. A delicious sensation I didn’t want to end. I relaxed in his arms and inhaled his delicious scent, basking in the sense of security I experienced whenever I was close to him. His kisses erased any thoughts of a world filled with monsters. My life was still a scary, dangerous mess. But during that kiss, I had been able to stop thinking about it. The kiss went on and on until he withdrew. He scooted away from me and tugged hard at his earlobe. Wind whipped a cold chill between our bodies.

  “Something wrong? Is it me?” I asked.

  He turned away with a shrug. “No. I like you, but—”

  “Why do you keep doing that?”

  His jaw went tight. “Do what?” he said, his voice cold.

  “Errr, you’re so friggin’ Mr. Hot-and-Cold.” I shoved his shoulder, barely moving him, and he leaned back, but still wouldn’t look at me. “Trent, focus. We are alone on a beach with a full moon and stars. Can’t get much more romantic than this. We’re making out—and now you’re getting all weird again!”

  “Sorry. I just—”

  “Fine. Whatever. I just don’t get you!” I folded my arms across my chest. I could taste the bitterness in my words, sliding down and stinging my throat like bile. My eyes were glued to the sand. Rejection sucked.

  He touched my arm. “Will you let me finish? Please?”

  The softness in his voice stilled my tongue. I sighed and doodled with my toe in the sand, making circular patterns. The seconds ticked by. My eyes met his again. He smiled, his mood shifting like sunshine breaking through the rain.

  “Am I overreacting?” I cast my eyes downward again.

  “No, I…” He stopped speaking. I flashed a quick glance up to see his face had softened.

  His finger slid over my cheek, across my jaw, before caressing my parted lips. My breath came out in shallow little pants. I almost melted into the sand. He inclined his head until his lips touched mine again. He kissed me vehemently. Sensations coursed through me, unsettling and staggering. Our arms wrapped around each other. Trent kissed my neck, his lips lingering at the hollow of my throat like those of a vampire, which pretty much shorted out all coherent thought. My fingers found their way underneath his shirt. My palms burned everywhere I touched his bare skin. Biceps, abs (yes, he had a six-pack), and the tendons in his neck. Skin smooth. Rippling beneath my touch. Tingles shot down my arms, plummeting my heart and mind into a downward spiral of emotion. An emotion I didn’t recognize. Intense and consuming. Unquestionably strong. Almost stormy. Tender and timeless. In his arms, I felt soft and vulnerable. Dark and fiery. A moment later, we stopped kissing, but pressed our foreheads together.

  I slouched, sighing. “What were you gonna say, you know, before?”

  Oh, God, what is wrong with me? Ruining the moment. Again.

  “All this—you. I don’t wanna mess things up.” He took my hand, turned it over and trailed a finger along the etched lines of my palm.

  “So? What’s my future?”

  For a long second, he gazed intensely into my eyes. “You’ll never meet another man like me.”

  Duh. Like I needed my palm to tell me that. Yet somewhere deep inside me I knew it was eerily true and I shivered. Or maybe it was the cold blowing off the ocean.

  “Do you want my jacket?” Trent shed his coat, draping it over my shoulders.

  I shivered again. It smelled incredible. A unique scent. Sweet, with something that danced on the edge of salty and sharp—a smell only guys had—a smell that enveloped me, and made my muscles unwind. My heart beat a little faster. Blood rushed to my cheeks.

  His studied my palm. “This is your lifeline. It’s long. Hmm, interesting.”

  “What?”

  Leaning to peer at my hand at the same time he did, our foreheads collided. We rubbed our temples and cracked up.

  “This one to the left is your heart line,” he said, “telling me you’re a romantic.”

  “Yeah. A big fat sappy one.” I put a finger to my lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.”

  He chuckled. “Never.”

  “Now let me read yours.” I grasped his warm hand and pretended to study it. “Oh, no.”

  “What?” He leaned into me, brushing his thigh against mine.

  “You will marry a dark haired girl who wears pink Doc Martens someday.”

  He laughed. “So…are you always this cute? Or is this especially for me?”

  “Just you!” I bumped his shoulder with my own and dropped his hand. “You know, you’re like the first person who has made my heart beat slower and faster at the same time.” I put my hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat. I moved my mouth toward his, and he kissed me, his lips firm and warm. My eyes glided shut, and my arms wrapped around his neck. The kiss grew hotter and longer. An ache stretched over my body. When he released me, my stomach had major butterflies. We parted reluctantly, as if pulling away was physically painful.

  Dang, he’s hot and smoldering. Smart and sinfully sexy all at once. Who could resist him? Who would want to?

  Trent clasped my hand, his fingers sliding under my sleeve. The caress of his fingertips near my scar sent strange pulses through me that I couldn’t shake. Yanking my arm from his grasp before he touched the scar, I clutched it to my chest.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No…it tickles.” I leaned back and said quietly, “It’s late and I promised I’d be home by midnight.” I stared at his perfect face, at his smooth features and the slanted eyebrows over those incredible emerald eyes.

  Trent stood and swiped at the sand clinging to his jeans. He bent to grab his shoes and tossed me mine. I slipped them on, then clutched his hand. “I had a good time tonight, Trent.”

  “Me too.”

  We were pensive on the drive home. Trent parked and walked me to the door. He kissed me hard, his mouth savoring mine. “You can come back to my house. My uncle should be asleep,” he said, his breath warm near my ear. He kissed my neck. “We can just cuddle.”

  My eyes became heavy-lidded before it dawned on me what he was actually implying.

  Cuddle? Ha!

  I moved awkwardly from his arms. “I gotta work tomorrow. It’s my duty to get the bagels to the crew by
seven,” I said.

  “Well then…another time.”

  He hugged me tight, briefly caressing my lips with his fingertip. His touch made me shivery and breathless.

  “I wanna hang out with you again.”

  “Can you repeat that in my hopeful ear?”

  “You’re sweet and smart and beautiful. I like you.”

  Yay! A big dopey grin spread across my face. “Seriously? If I tell you I like you too, can I keep you forever?” My voice sounded husky and lower than usual.

  “We’ll see…” He turned and sauntered toward his Mustang.

  “Wait!—when?” I asked, feeling like I was walking a dangerous edge. Inside I was doing a happy victory dance.

  He glanced over his shoulder, smiling. “Soon.”

  Sneaking inside the house, I tiptoed to my room, and stripped off my clothes. I tugged on a nightgown and slipped into bed. Thoughts of Trent almost made me ignore the undercurrent of worry still bubbling in the back of my head as I replayed the evening in my mind, the way he held me, touched me, his facial expressions, our conversation, and the way he kissed me.

  Oh. My. God. Ariana was right. I am a smitten kitten.

  For the first time in six years, I reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  While I sat on a blanket beneath the shade of one of Ravenhurst’s oak trees—reclining on my hands, face toward the sky, and my shiny pink Doc Martens crossed at the ankles—the clank of an approaching car made me smile. A Volkswagen parked in the driveway. Casually attired in denim cutoffs, a black tube-top stretched over her ample chest, and flip-flops, Ariana warmly smiled as she materialized from the Bug. Jada emerged from the passengers’ side looking sporty and muscular in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts. The rebel and the preppy.

  I walked over to them. “Hey Ari! Jada! What’s up?”

  “Thought we’d stop by—wow!” Jada gaped at Ravenhurst. She dumped a flat box on the hood of the Bug and came to stand beside me, then asked in a lowered voice, “Any more spooky stuff happening?”

  Oh yeah. Big time.

  “Nope.” I lied. Gardeners pruning the magnolias glanced in our direction. I gave her a let’s-not-talk-about-it-now look. “I’m glad you guys came by but—”

  “But what? Why you all scowly? “Ariana asked.

  My voice dropped in volume. “Because since Paige’s death, I’m not sure it’s safe here.”

  “That’s one reason we came by today. To help you get some answers. But first, how about a tour?” Jada asked. “Holy crow! This place is wicked.”

  I paused, and for a second the only sounds were the soft rustling of the afternoon breeze in the oaks and the beat of my heart. I should send them off, really. But nothing bad had happened lately. Besides, workmen crowded the place, both inside and out. Even if Shadow Man came, we’d be safe. Besides, now that I had both Ariana and Jada together, I could talk to them about Trent. Texting and phone calls hadn’t been enough.

  “Yeah. Sure, I guess…” I pointed to the pool and tennis courts. “Trent loves to play tennis. He’s so good at it. Of course, he’s good at everything,” I added with a giggle. “Oh—once the renovations on Ravenhurst are done, Trent’s gonna throw a party while his dad’s out of town.”

  “He is?” Jada smiled. “Cool. End of summer party!”

  “Yeah!” Ariana said. “I’m so there.”

  I laughed. “It should be fun. He’s gonna try to get a keg too.” Naughty boy.

  We walked back toward the front of the mansion. Hesitation stilled my tongue. I still wasn’t sure about taking them inside. Afternoon was falling, the light slowly fading. The evening sky a hint of violet on the horizon. Gleaming time. My eyes found the flat box Jada had brought that sat on the hood of the Volkswagen parked in the driveway.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “An Ouija board,” Jada said.

  I stumbled on a tree root and caught my balance by grabbing Ariana’s arm. I stared at Jada. Ariana loosened my fingers. I’d left a red handprint on her smooth creamy skin. The squirrels weren’t chattering. The light wind died away. Even the birds stopped chirping.

  “It was Jada’s idea.” Ariana pointed at our friend.

  “Didn’t you guys watch the Exorcist?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Super scary,” Jada said.

  My eyes narrowed on Ariana. They weren’t here for a visit. They were here to get answers. And could I really blame them? “Are you sure about this?”

  “Not really. But let’s see what happens,” Ari said.

  I chewed my fingernail. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea…” My voice trailed off. “I could get fired—” Or killed. Although I highly doubted a board game would induce Esael to come out and play. An Ouija board wasn’t exactly the go-to source for real witches. Just for kids playing pretend. But what if it did give us some insight into the spirit realm?

  “No one will find out. I promise. Your boss is at lunch, right?” Jada grabbed me by the shoulders, her grip tight. “Oh, Shiloh, I feel awful about Paige. Just awful! But maybe the Ouija board can give us answers about the town curse. If this place had something to do with her disappearance, I want to know. Please. I know you probably don’t think it’ll work, but what can it hurt?”

  I glanced at Ari. She shrugged. “I’ll do it. If Jada stops whining.”

  Jada shoved her shoulder. “I’m not whining…much.” She turned to me. “Come on. Besides, if you don’t do it with us, I’ll come back on my own and do it in that creepy graveyard by myself.”

  “That’s blackmail,” I said.

  She shrugged. “Call it what you will. But I’m serious.”

  A knot formed in my stomach. I couldn’t let her come back alone. She’d definitely be safer if I was with them. Crap. Crap. Crap. But I knew Jada. If she wanted to do something, she’d find a way. And I couldn’t let her risk her life at night, alone, even with a stupid Ouija board.

  I threw up my hands. “We can do it in the upstairs parlor.” I sighed. “And for the record, this is against my better judgment.”

  “Cool. Thanks Shiloh.” Jada marched up the steps and into Ravenhurst.

  Ariana and I exchanged a glance and followed her inside. We found Jada in the upstairs parlor, squatting on her heels and setting up the Ouija board on an antique coffee table. The curtains were closed and the room was dark. I sat on the floor opposite her and Ariana sat at the end. Jada pulled out a candle from her purse and lit the wick.

  “Ari?” I turned to her and said, “Do you remember that theory I mentioned about the missing kids?”

  “Yeah,” Ariana said. “What about it?”

  “I had a hunch that their moms were all members of Heritage Founders aka a secret coven called, Blood Rose Circle—”

  “What’s a coven?” Jada looked at her hands. “My mom’s in that group. So was Paige’s mom.”

  “A coven is a gathering or community of witches,” I said. “But I think this coven has gone to the dark side.”

  “Maybe we can ask the Ouija board more about it. First we need to get organized, then ask questions.” Jada placed her fingers lightly on the planchette. “We place our fingertips on the pointer like this. Then we wait.”

  “Is this gonna work? Most activity is someone subconsciously moving it,” I said.

  “Shhh,” Jada said.

  Ariana and I giggled.

  “Shush, you two.”

  A long moment passed, then the candle suddenly flared like a fourth of July sparkler. Ariana gasped. The planchette gradually moved across the board and rested on the letter J before drifting to stop on A.

  “J and A,” Ariana said.

  The planchette stopped on the letter D next. We looked at each other. Jada’s eyes were huge.

  Yeah, right. This was lame. Still, a sensation worked its way up my spine. I decided to go along, and spoke in a commanding tone, “Spirits of Ravenhurst, if you harbor evil within your walls, I request your a
ssistance in revealing their true intentions.”

  A draft ripped through the room. The flame of the candle danced. Shadows grew, moved and moaned. Ravenhurst became eerily quiet.

  Ariana bowed her head slightly, then muttered something in what I thought was Latin. She convulsed and her eyes rolled into her head so high, only the lower arc of her blue irises showed. “Ravenhurst shelters an ancient evil.” She spoke in a strange, shrill voice. “Restless. Hungry.”

  “Quit, Ari. You’re freaking us out,” Jada whispered.

  My heartbeat elevated. If Ariana was acting, she was doing one heck of a good job.

  Another cold wind creaked the eaves, creating a melancholy sound. It stroked my arms, causing gooseflesh. The candle was doused. The chandelier’s supernatural tinkling chimed loudly throughout the mansion. A warning to those who would upset the otherworldly balance.

  Ariana sagged against me, then seemed to awake a bit confused, blinking her eyes.

  The wraith in her tattered gown, appeared. Her gray form flickered. Her inhuman eyes, twin flickering sapphire flames.

  “Claire.” Grabbing Ariana’s arm, I squeezed her. She looked dazed, but her eyes had returned to normal. Her hand clamped over mine. Ariana and Jada’s eyes were bulging. The pointer jumped to YES. Our hands jolted off the planchette.

  “Oh—oh,” Jada said in a voice shaky, soft and halting. “It’s…a freakin’ ghost.”

  “You can see her?” I was dumbfounded.

  “Listen girls, someone has unknowingly awoken a sleeping evil within Ravenhurst.” Claire floated closer, imploring us with jerky hand movements. “It is malicious, foul. Insane. Weak in his spectral form. Once corporeal—nothing can kill him. We can’t let Esael devour any more children.” The painting on the wall showed through her translucent torso. “Shiloh, learn the old religion. Decide what you’re willing to sacrifice.”

  Great. More cryptic messages to decode.