Witch of Shadows (Shadowhurst Mysteries Book 1)

by A. N. Sage

  “Outstanding,” I said and rolled my eyes. “And Billie is fine.”

  As I snuck another glance outside, I realized that we were no longer in the shop-ridden streets we drove through before. The alternative views left much to be desired; nothing but spanning, lush grass, and prim homes with pristinely arranged flower beds lining the porches. The entire town looked like it was trying to put on an act. A collection of houses tailored to give the feeling of humbleness built by people who didn’t understand the word. Shadowhurst was nothing like Stamwick. It was small and proper and not at all what I was used to. I was a street kid, through and through. My boots were still covered from the dirt they collected walking the filthy alleys of the city and yet here I was, in some posh town I would never fit into.

  The SUV rolled to a stop, jerking my body forward hard enough to knock the breath out of me. The driver door slammed shut and Damien rounded the car to grab my bag from the trunk, giving me a chance to inspect my new home. As I scanned the yard, my jaw slacked. The driveway curved around a massive, stone fountain, leaving us parked in front of what I could only describe as a very over-the-top entranceway. The yellow, Victorian-style house had all the details of a small-town home but amplified. Every white window frame had one pane too many hiding behind white shutters, and the doors were so large that they looked like they belonged in a mansion. There was a wraparound porch housing a few chairs and hanging planters that seemed to be freshly watered. To the right of the almost-mansion was another smaller house, just as yellow and just as obnoxious. Though this second structure did not have the mass of the first, it had the same eye-burning etchings of florals and vines that decorated the door frame.

  This was going to be actual hell.

  I stretched my neck, rolling out my muscles from being cooped in a car for hours and opened the door. Damien was already standing guard, one hand in his pocket and one clutching my beaten down bag. His gaze met mine and he smiled before ushering me to the front door. My eyes danced as we walked, trying to peer through the upper windows and guessing which one would be my prison for the next Goddess knows how long. I was still spying when the door opened before us and a thin man in his late sixties stepped unto the porch to greet us. His face was blank and the gray suit he wore did not have one wrinkle in place. His eyes narrowed on my slender frame behind the gold-framed glasses that perched on the edge of his nose.

  “You must be Billie,” he said, so slowly I nearly fell asleep. “Please come in.”

  “Kay…” I stretched out an arm his way and he jumped back in surprise. “Good to meet you!”

  The man scrunched his nose before awkwardly shaking my outstretched hand. “You as well, my dear. My name is Silas.”

  He looked to me like I was supposed to know some unspoken secret that hung in the air and I immediately regretted not reading more of the notes the High Coven gave me to prepare for my stay here. All I knew was that the coven arranged for a false identity, staging me as a troubled teen that required a place to stay after escaping charges at her last school. It wasn’t too far from the truth, though the only school I’ve ever attended was that of the High Coven’s. I vaguely remembered reading about the couple that took me in; a well-to-do husband and wife who crowned themselves the token do-gooders of Shadowhurst. If I was being honest, I couldn’t even place their names or pick them out of a lineup. In my defense, I wasn’t planning on staying long. I doubted these people had any intention of adopting the trouble maker student they were housing for the remainder of the semester. I scoured my memory to find some reference to Silas and drew a blank. Damn it, Billie! You really should have brushed up on this crap. If I didn’t get my act together, I would blow my cover before I even stepped foot in the door.

  “I am the maitre d’ of the Chandler household,” Silas said with a grin. “Welcome to your new home.”

  A maitre d’? Are they kidding me? This place had a freaking butler!

  My eyes darted to Damiens, who only shrugged in return and handed me my bag. He nodded to me, bid Silas goodbye, and turned on his heels to leave. And just like that, I was alone.

  Hesitantly, I stepped past the threshold and into the house. My fingers twirled around the loose strands of my hair and as I followed Silas through the main hallway, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss the further we got from the entrance. It was almost like this house and my alternative life was swallowing me whole.

  Silas walked slowly and I wasn’t sure if it was because of his age or if this was his way of letting me explore as we wandered. The interior of the home was less intrusive than what we first drove up to and the thought put me at ease. Looking around the open layout living room and dining area, I felt almost comfortable in this place. Sure, every little detail of the house screamed luxury and was a direct contrast to my black, ripped jeans and faded t-shirt but at least it wasn’t an actual mansion. Hard as I tried, I could not find one tacky thing in the house; it even smelled good! Like cinnamon and baked goods. It was modern and clean and had all the features of a well-designed home. Everything from the marble countertops I spied on the large kitchen island to the plush leather sofas looked like someone had plucked this house straight out of a magazine. Each room had an obtrusive chandelier and the crystals glimmered in the light that fell from the enormous windows. There was very little in the way of decor but everything was chosen with exquisite detail and I instinctively compared this home to Sebyl’s. Unlike the home I've grown used to over the years, the Chandler residence was airy and did not have a knick-knack or detail out of place. Fewer things to dust, I guess…

  We stopped in front of a wide staircase that pointed to the second floor and I turned to see Silas hover next to it.

  “Is my room upstairs?” I asked, eager to put my heavy bag down.

  Silas pointed past the staircase to a doorway down the hall from us. “Oh, no, no,” he smiled. “The Chandlers felt you’d be more comfortable having your own apartment. They arranged for you to stay in the guesthouse.”

  “They…” I swallowed. “Gave me an apartment?”

  “Correct,” he said with another warm smile. “You’ll find it has everything you need ready for your stay. I’ve arranged for fresh linens and towels so you can get cleaned up before dinner.”

  He pointed to the door again and I took it as my cue to keep moving. To my dismay, my fake parents remained a mystery as there was not one photo hanging on any of the walls. It was almost as if a personal touch would have set the place on fire. I made a mental note to take extra caution to keep my messy ways under control while I’m was here and kept moving.

  Silas led me through the doorway and into the backyard which, no surprise, was the approximate size of a football field. There was an endless array of flowers that spread around the sizeable space but I only focused my eyes on one thing—the long, very welcoming, pool in the center. Maybe this won’t be so bad, like a vacation or something. I grimaced and turned back to follow Silas to the smaller house I saw when we first turned in. Holy mother of…

  “I’m staying here?” I asked, gawking at the miniature version of the main house.

  “Yes.” Silas nodded and though he said nothing else, I had a feeling he was laughing at me.

  “Silas?” I turned to face him.

  “Yes, miss?”

  “Where exactly are the Chandlers?”

  “Oh, my,” he whispered. “They must have forgotten to send you a warning. The Chandlers are away on a business trip until later this week. They are very sorry they couldn’t be here to meet you but I am certain you will have plenty of time to get to know each other upon their return.”

  “Oooookay…”

  “Will that be all, miss?”

  I choked on a laugh. “You can call me Billie. Miss sounds, well, pretty weird.”

  “Very well,” Silas paused, “Billie.”

  I smiled, gripped the handle of my bag tighter, and started up the slight steps of the guesthouse.

  “Oh, Billie?” Silas
chased after me. “Dinner is served at seven PM sharp. I have taken measures to stock your closet with a few things but perhaps you’d like to go into town to pick out a few other items before tomorrow.”

  “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

  “Your first day at Shadowhurst Academy. I’m sure you’re eager to start.”

  I scowled and dropped my gaze to my feet. New house, new butler, new school. This is turning out to be the worst week ever. Magic slithered beneath the surface of my skin and I took a few deep breaths to push it away. My back slouched as I struggled to lug my bag up the steps; even through the thick leather of the bag, I could feel my grimoire call to me. One pleasurable thing about being away from the main house and prying eyes is I could study my spells in private. The High Coven said no magic use but no one said anything about reading and from what little I knew about high schools full of rich kids, it’s that keeping your head in a book was the best way to stay out of the spotlight.

  “No worries!” I yelled out over my shoulder as I rushed inside. “I’m sure whatever you picked out is fine!”

  I closed the door without waiting for Silas to respond, which in hindsight was rude, but I couldn’t wait to get out of my sweaty clothes and into a shower. The guesthouse was small and just the way I like it. It was set up in the same open concept the main house and had similar finishes that all looked to be too expensive for my current attire. As soon as I walked in, I was greeted with a compact galley kitchen with a fridge I hoped was filled with iced coffees and snacks. To my right sat a cozy nook with a couch, a loveseat, and a TV longer than my body. My jaw unhinged as I looked around and my lips curled into a grin.

  I found my bedroom with ease and stepped in, tossing my bag on the wood-framed canopied bed with a sigh. My fingers trailed along the silky fabrics of the bed coverings and I had to toss myself on the plush mattress next to my dirty bag. Gaze drifting over the bedroom, I tried to memorize every inch in case someone decided this was all a huge mistake and they sent me to the wrong house. My unused bed was sandwiched between two glass side tables that had been exquisitely arranged with a few books, the most recent fashion magazines, and a faux flower arrangement that matched the lilacs stitched into the duvet. To the right, a gigantic window opened up to the backyard and I could smell the scent of cut grass drift through it each time the wind picked up outside. There was an inky wood dresser in the corner with a vanity table next to it and though I hadn’t inspected it, I knew it was filled with the most luxurious makeup money could buy. Maybe now that I was here, I’d start wearing more than just lip-gloss. Next to the vanity were two sliding doors with mirrors covering them from top to bottom. One of the doors was left open and I gasped when I saw the walk-in closet that hid behind it. There were more clothes in that closet than in some boutiques in Stamwick and I couldn’t believe they were all mine. From here, I could see so many colors it made my eyes bleed. Someone hadn’t been alerted to my standard style of all black and gray…

  At the far edge of the bedroom was another door that led to the bathroom and I didn’t need to look to know it would take my breath away much as everything else had so far.

  The silk cradled my face in heart-shattering perfection and I smiled at the relaxation this little oasis offered. My muscled ached from the trip and being able to stretch out on the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid on was nothing short of heaven. My eyes focused and unfocused on the crystal chandelier—that was bigger than my freaking bedroom back at Sebyl’s—above the bed and all the nerves that plagued my bones dissipated. Even the hum of magic that normally ran through me slowed and I stretched my arms out to the side. It’s delicious warmth spread through my body and I giggled. There was no explaining what it felt like to have this locked away inside; magic was a part of me; like a second heart. Just a vacation, I thought with a smile and set a timer on my phone for six. The last thing I wanted was to miss the seven PM sharp dinner on my first night here.

  Big City Girl

  Silas was not kidding when he said I should have everything I need in my closet. Getting ready for my first day of school was like shopping in some fancy department store and by the time I was done, I felt even more out of place than before. I opted for a simple black blouse and black leggings, choosing to don my leather jacket and boots to keep at least a slight part of myself intact. With my hair brushed and the smallest coat of mascara on, my blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight as I rode the brand new bike the Chandlers left for me down the streets of Shadowhurst.

  Winding the small streets and leaning into the curves helped uplift my spirits and it relieved me to have convinced Silas not to drive me to school. Something about showing up in a private car seemed way too pretentious, and I wanted as little attention drawn to me as possible.

  As I rounded the corner, I realized that biking to Shadowhurst Academy was the worst decision I could have made. This place was nothing like the schools I was used to seeing in the city.

  The academy’s campus was monstrous and covered in such perfect grass that it looked like a country club and not a school. There were four colonial buildings that surrounded a massive quad in their center with trees lining its perimeter. Each building had dozens of windows facing the quad and I felt unease thinking of all the classrooms hiding behind the plates of glass. Knowing me, I’d get lost just looking for a bathroom. Students had already trickled in and my heart pounded with worry that I was, once again, late to something important.

  In a hurry, I found the bicycle racks tucked in the corner of a parking lot that had more expensive cars in it than a dealership. It took me a few tries to fumble with the lock to secure my ride but after a few loud sighs and cursing; I crammed it into a slot. Aside from my own wheels, there was only one other bike in the station and I scanned the area to see if I could spot who it might belong to. I searched over the prim and proper faces of the students around me and realized that none of them would dare ride a bike to save their lives.

  The students of Shadowhurst Academy looked more like movie stars than average teenagers. Their clothes were carefully put together, their nails manicured and every girl I passed had a full face of makeup on. Well, this is different.

  I stumbled over a rock on my way up the tiny hill that led to the main quad and nearly lost my backpack to gravity in the process. Thank the Goddess for the training the High Coven provided, I recovered with only a few people noticing my clumsiness. Their eyes scanned my plain attire before looking away and continuing to chatter about whatever topic held their interest that morning. Making friends was definitely out of the question in this place.

  After brushing a loose strand of hair off my face, I started my way to a sign post covered in directions. Because, of course, this place needed a map to navigate. My eyes landed on an arrow pointing to reception and I walked the perimeter of the quad to the tallest building of the four.

  Jaw slacked, I took in the size of the main hall. It was almost as large as some buildings in Stamwick and had a triumphant bell tower perched above its roof that added unnecessary grandeur to an already humongous design. Above the steps lay an overhang held up by six, two-story columns and beyond them, ornate wooden doors flung open. Students filed in the doors and disappeared into the darkness beyond making me feel even more alone than I already was. I rearranged the straps of my backpack and followed them in. As instantly as I entered the hall, I regretted the jacket choice I made this morning. While the weather of Shadowhurst seemed to be in a constant state of Fall, it was hot as hell inside the main hall. Sweat beaded down my neck and I had to pause to pull my hair into a loose bun at the nape. The school’s sterile scent of bleached floors jammed into my nostrils and I had to rub my eyes from the film it left on them.

  Inside the hall looked like I expected, brown and boring with a touch of rich kid detailing thrown in just for kicks. The principal area opened to a wide entryway with corridors spanning in each direction. One glance around told me I would hate it here. Tan-colored lockers lined the corridors on
either end, breaking only to make room for large mahogany-framed doors with frosted windows in the center. Above me, a three-tiered chandelier caught the light streaming in from the overhead windows. This town and its chandeliers—I seriously did not get it. My eyes traveled over the crystals and to the panes of glass that were surprisingly sparkly clean. Through them, I could see the gold of the bell I noticed outside as clear as daylight. It's sheer mass was impressive but what attracted my attention was the etched writing that ran along its perimeter. I couldn't make out any of the words but somehow, they drew me in. Interesting.

  With a groan, I made my way to another sign on the wall opposite me and tried to locate the school’s reception area to sign in for the day. Science, drama, tools… I read off the titles in my head until my eyes spotted what I was looking for. Without pause, I turned on my heels and ran for the office.

  As always, my feet were quicker than my head and my already rising nerves made me oblivious to my surroundings. As I turned, my shoulder bumped something, and I turned, startled to see a tall girl rubbing her shoulder from the impact of my clumsiness. Her hair fell over her bronze skin in perfect ringlets as she brushed off invisible lint from her way-too-short romper.

  “Ouch!” She yelped, narrowing her hazel eyes at me. “Watch where you’re going!”

  My hand clasped my mouth as the horror of almost running down a stranger set in. As I looked over the girl in front of me, I could feel my pulse race. She was stunning. Her auburn hair fell in perfect, tight ringlets down to her shoulders and she brushed it off her high cheekbones as she stared me down. How did someone even get cheekbones like that? Mine were pretty much nonexistent and I sometimes wondered how my face stayed in place. This girl, however, was all bone structure and flawless bronze skin. She looked like a freaking super model.