Beautifully Broken (13 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I forced my eyes open. I’d stood there, silent, for a minute. Evans waited. I looked around. The grounds still looked unkempt. Ravenhurst still looked desolate. I couldn’t sense any darkness. The sun warmed my skin. Evil was gone. For now. But I’d just been told a demon had branded me. And whether I liked it or not, I needed to understand the mysterious significance of the strange mark branded on my wrist. I blew out a breath and asked, “Why do you, um…think I’m cursed?”

“A hunch.” Evans traced the scar with his index finger and I tried not to flinch. “Let’s find out for sure if your scar is connected to the demon in Ravenhurst.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. He doesn’t have anything to do with my scar…” I heard myself say the words and knew it was a lie. Same as I knew my hair was the color of a raven’s wing, and the grass beneath my feet was still damp from morning dew.

“Still, I’d like to be sure. If you will allow me,” he said, and his fingers curled around my wrist, over my scar. Dug into my skin. He closed his eyes. Surprised, I didn’t move. His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. “I sense darker forces at work. You are cursed. The demon could not devour your soul…your magick blocked it. In anger, he took possession of your body and forced you to slash your wrist. Then dripped some of his own blood into the wound while you were unconscious, branding you. Then your father walked in and found you—interrupting the demon before he could try and suck out your soul again.” Evans nodded and opened his eyes. “Very old magick in your blood.” He released my arm and I scooted away. “I realize it sounds like rubbish, but what I read is the truth, Shiloh.”

“It can’t be true.” Tears stinging. My throat dry. “Because…I attempted suicide. My parents kept it quiet. You know, small town.”

“I understand, but I’m positive that you did not do it intentionally. You were under the influence of that malicious fiend.” He sighed.

Silence followed. The impact of his words hung in the air like a dark cloud had passed over our heads. I tucked in my bottom lip, staring at the mark. The scar on the soft underside of my wrist held more of an angry red tinge than it had this morning. My brow dampened with sweat. Nausea rose from my stomach. My nerves felt as taut as an overstressed string on a violin.

“I don’t believe it. Seriously? You think a demon marked me?”

“I
know
a demon branded you. What I don’t know yet is why.” Evans pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, clearly frustrated with me. “It’s dangerous to be in denial about such things, Shiloh.”

“Me? What am I in denial about?”
 

“Your own heritage. Your Devil’s mark.”

I scoffed. “And don’t forget I’m cursed.”

Aw, crud, he’s right. I’m in total denial. The big bad evil has marked me. A demon. And the shadowy hellspawn are still after me. This is a lot to absorb. Sheesh, I’m only a kid and I’m allowed some teen angst, right?

“Whoever marked you did so for a reason. You owe it to yourself to discover why,” Evans said. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone.”

In my heart, I knew I’d never feel safe again until I discovered the reason. And the obvious increase in shadows, the wraith (Claire?) and the indecipherable Shadow Man (did he have a real name?) meant more than I had once believed. Better to be prepared. At least I had an ally in Evans and didn’t have to hide my weirdness. I might learn more about magick too.

“I apologize, my dear. I did not mean to upset you.”

“Upset? Not me.” Shaking my head, I stepped backward until I hit the oak. The rough bark scraped against my back, and the climbing ivy touched my neck. I leapt away, tremors raking my body.

My teeth clenched. I turned my head toward the tree. Darkness moved past us, surrounding the trunk of the vine-covered oak. The diabolical cloud blackened its torso. It reeked of sulfur. Piercing yellow eyes peered out. The black shape flew faster and faster, resembling a mini-tornado.
Shadow Man.

Smaller shadows detached themselves from the safety of the shade and joined the black mist in a blurring tangle of smoky demon limbs. Barks and whimpers like that of wounded dogs leaked from the blurring mass.

The heat from the swirling mass plunged into me. Scalding my scarred arm. Felt like the skin was going to peel away. My knees buckled, but I did not go down.
 

A thunderous groan sounded. The oak wobbled back and forth, shaking in the earth. With a deafening
SNAP
, the trunk split in half and teetered above me. The top half bent its leafy head in a curtsy. I stood frozen. I stared. Evans wrapped his fingers over my wrist, yanking me backwards. Suddenly the oak came crashing down and landed with a massive boom. Clods of dirt, broken branches, and dead leaves rained down around us. Resting on the path where I once stood, the tree rocked into place.

Evans’s eyes widened. “Are you all right?”

I gave him a quivering thumbs up. I gaped at the debris, my mouth hanging open stupidly.

Hovering above the rubble was a shifting black canopy of shadows. For a second, I saw Shadow Man’s yellow eyes, but I blinked and the shadows swooshed off into the trees.

Judd jogged over. “What happened?”

My body shuddered and I searched the treeline for shadows. “The tree…it suddenly split in half.” I knew how odd that sounded the second I’d said it. I pointed to the stump still anchored inside the earth.

Judd scratched his cheek before he got on his knees to examine the fallen tree and the litter of broken branches. The other workers stood gawking.

Evans tugged me away, steering us toward the front of the mansion. On my arm, his hand trembled. We neared the porch and sat on the stoop. I didn’t think I could walk farther. My legs were like jelly.

“Evans?”

“This is bewildering. I’m quite flummoxed. We must be careful. I fear the diabolical entity skulking the halls of Ravenhurst has targeted
you
, my dear.”

A shudder ran through my body. I found some courage and said quietly, “No doubt. I guess I shoulda mentioned before that I’ve…
seen
it.”

Evans pressed his fingers against his temples, rubbing small circles. “Hmm, when?”

“He appeared in my room a month ago and acted super menacing and creepy. But this is the first time he tried to kill me.” Chewing the inside of my cheek, I thought about it, then added, “No, that’s not true. He tried to drop a chandelier on me.”

“Yes, well, you should stay vigilant,” he said. “Your survival may depend on it.”

Protective much?
I smiled. It was nice to have someone who actually cared.

“Like if I lower my psychic defenses for too long?”

“Exactly. We must figure out what he wants.” His eyes rested on mine. “Right before the tree fell, I saw Claire Donovan in the upstairs window. I wonder if the two are connected somehow.”

“Like you said, she died here. That must explain her presence. And my guess is that Shadow Man has had a supernatural hit list on the kids in this community for years. It’s all starting to make sense now…I’m next.” My witch’s
intuition
left a pang in my stomach. This feeling sometimes gave me insight about certain things or people. My gut told me that I was right about the list. “Look,” I said, “maybe I was stupid to take this job. Being in a haunted house where an evil entity hangs out, wanting to kill me. Not smart. Maybe I should quit—”

“I’m sorry, Shiloh,” Evans said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “But since you’ve been marked, the demon will find you no matter where you are. You are no more safe at home than you are at Ravenhurst. At least by being at here, with me, I can help. You’ve apparently never had any training in the paranormal, and I’d like to be a sort of mentor to you. There’s a reason you’re here. Believe in yourself, Shiloh, and prepare to do battle.”

Prepare to do battle does not sound good.

 
“The important thing is to remain levelheaded,” he said.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not on some supernatural hit list!”

My eyes fixed on Ravenhurst. The mansion shimmered in the heat. A wave of dizziness hit me. The wind that blew through the trees and whipped through my hair was full of the whispering sounds of chilling, ghostly cries. My veins sung with alarmed foreboding. I wiped the sweat from my temple with the back of my hand. I mentally sighed.

“Are you feeling well?” His mouth wilted downward. “You look pale.”

I slouched against the porch post to gather my strength. “I’m fine. Sorry I snapped at you. My witch’s intuition is screaming you’re right.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” He patted my shoulder. “We’re in this together now.”

Evans was right. Again. I was in danger wherever I went. Staying away from Ravenhurst wouldn’t keep Shadow Man away. I’d been marked. He’d find me. I stood and squared my shoulders, staring at Ravenhurst. I’d made up my mind. Time to toughen up. Time to start studying the paranormal. Kick some evil guy ass. I wasn’t going down without a fight!
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

After the tree had nearly fallen on me my first day at work, I had no doubt that Evans was right: Ravenhurst had more going for it supernaturally than the townspeople suspected. But I had resolved to stay. I still needed answers. Thankfully, over the last few days, the wraith had left me alone. I’d been able to monitor the construction workers, file paperwork, and make phone calls. Evans kept me busy doing tasks both inside the house and out. Since Trent was in summer school, he drove into the city during the day. Which meant he wasn’t around much. I’ll admit—it sucked.

Today, Evans had asked me to bring one of the landscapers more gas for the lawnmower. As I made my way across the yard with the heavy can, the sun peered through a rift in the clouds. Birds flew out of a nearby tree. I breathed in the scents of thawed earth, freshly cut grass, and magnolias. On my right, I noticed a picket fence surrounded by a patch of untamed grass and weeds. As I drew closer, the wind swayed angrily in the trees. Shadows engulfed the stone pathway. Winds shivered through the tall grass and rattled the leaves on their branches. I set down the gas can and yanked my pink hoodie tighter around me, the exposed skin between my cropped top and my khaki shorts became goose pimply.

Sunlight hid behind a passing cloud. Shadows whispered. Moved ahead of me toward one of the tombstones. Anxiety twisted in my gut as I followed them. The shadows thickened and slid across the high grass, crouching like lions hunting prey. My eyes searched the living shadows, murmuring in an ancient tongue. Shades swirled around a headstone. My fingers stroked the aged marble. Cold even in the heat. The name inscribed on it read: CLAIRE DONOVAN. They’d lead me to her grave.

I wondered if I should come back tonight to salt and burn Claire’s bones.
Damn, I’m losing it. Rewind that thought. I’m not some stupid girl in a horror movie that digs up graves!

I glanced up at the house. Sunlight flared off the paned glass, but I saw someone stepping back from the window. I realized the person
(a girl?)
had been watching me and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a ghost. I marched toward the house, but the reflected sunlight made it impossible to see inside. Uneasiness seeped into me.

I hurried into the mansion to locate Evans. In the foyer, I bumped into someone. “Oops! My bad,” I apologized. I glanced at the person I’d collided with and took a step back. My hand flew to my chest.

The wraith’s tattered gown flowed to her ankles. Black hair in long dead waves. Gray skin, practically transparent. “You found my grave.”

The foyer was arctic. My breath puffed in the air. I hugged my chest. My nose ran. Sweat dampened my scalp even though the room had chilled. Frost shrouded the windowpanes. I rubbed my arms and my teeth chattered.

 
“
Ohmigosh!”
I blurted. “You’re the—the wraith that’s been stalking me.”

“Yes.” Her eyes never wavered. Shadows crawled out of the corners, clinging to her dress like children.

I put my hands on my hips. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that! And stop whispering my name, ‘cause
 
it gives me the creeps. While we’re on the subject, you need to make some dang noise when you float around. Creak a door or hum a show tune or something!”

Gee, big brave me. Finally, having a backbone. But the wraith isn’t like Shadow Man.

Charm padded across the room and rubbed my legs. The second she saw the wraith, the cat hissed and spat. Her fur stood on end as she arched her back.

“What do you want? Be specific this time,” I said.

Her grayish skin flickered. “What do I want?” Her voice was a warped human intonation and whispery thin. “Obviously, I need your help.”

“Then quit scaring the bejesus out of me!” I snapped, then bit my lip. I’d been waiting for this moment. For a chance to talk to her. Figure out her weird messages. So, I kept my voice even and asked, “So you’re Claire Donovan?”

She clapped her hands. “Finally. I was becoming concerned.”

My feet shuffled back. “Are you for real?”

Okay, stupid question, but hey, I was still sorta freaked.

A smirk appeared on Claire’s lips. “Of course, I’m real. Aren’t witches supposed to be in tune with the supernatural?”

I looked at her sideways. “What?”

Sheesh, do I have a sign on my forehead, telling everyone I’m a freaking witch?

She glanced at Charm. “That’s not your familiar hissing at me?”

Good question.
 

“Yeah, well, I
do
have a Whitelighter guiding me. You know, like on
Charmed
?”

“No. I don’t. I missed that series…because I was
dead
.”

I blew out a breath. “Okay, cut the sarcasm. Just tell me what you want.”

“Your help. In return, I will assist
you.
And I realize this is going to sound cliché…but your life is in danger.”

“From the shades?”

“No, you shouldn’t concern yourself with them. You have bigger problems. You bear the mark.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she grasped my scarred arm. Emotions burst forth.
Hatred. Passion. Sorrow.
Revenge.
All burned into my scar and raced through my mind. Just from one feathery touch.

Darkness appeared in the doorway. Yellow eyes peered out of a shapeless black face. Shadow Man stared, death in his gaze. Raised his hand. Pointed at my arm. Severe pain and heat assaulted the scar. Fire exploded beneath my flesh. The mark, inflamed, burned red.

Terror welled in my throat. My pulse rocketed. Breath rushed from my lungs.

I clutched my arm to my chest. Charm growled low in her throat and her furry tail puffed. She arched her back and took two sidesteps back.

I frantically jabbed my index finger in the air. “Behind you. Look!”

Claire’s body did that weird blinking thing again. “Esael’s strength is returning. We don’t have much time.”

“Who is Esael?”

Claire half-turned toward Shadow Man, who stood in the entrance, and pointed. “Him.”

He graciously bowed his head to me, staring with serpent eyes, a smirk on his lips. Skeletal jaw and teeth. No tongue or lips. He sniffed the air. Then Shadow Man—er, Esael—metamorphosed. His insubstantial body grew dense—more solid. Bone, muscle, and flesh twitched and spread, molding into a half-man, half-snake apparition. His sulfuric cologne stung my nose. I covered my mouth, trying not to sneeze. Or gag.

“Shiloh, my sweet.” Dangerous, hushed words like rancid spillage flowed from his mouth. “Your delectable aura beckons me.” He arched his spine and drew nearer, his movements sinister yet with a touch of elegance. I could discern his immense power, like a living weapon, deadly and merciless.

Stretching my senses until they expanded, I imagined a barricade of golden light surrounding me. Luminous, like a golden miasma touched by sunlight, dazzling and powerful.

Wall of light, wall of light, wall of light!

Esael’s mouth widened and a tendril of smoke gushed from the opening. The black mist of primeval sorcery circled him. The dark magick shoved against my mystical shield. Esael sliced into my white light with it, as if my psychic defenses were a flimsy garment stretched too thin. A breath of fire struck me across the face like a brutal slap. Then the primeval energy encircling him formed a black solid shape and struck my chest, shoving me backward.

I landed on my butt, the breath knocked out of me. I struggled to sit up. Shock jerked my limbs.
A demon...

Huh. I was dazed. Esael had deflected my wall of protection. He’d punched right through them. My mental armor instantly crushed.

Esael’s apathetic eyes gleamed like yellow lanterns. The shades snapped at him, hissing. Charm joined them, yowling boisterously. Esael placed his claws on Claire’s shoulders, dragging her backwards. She winced and fought to free herself, her feet sliding across the floor.

“I can help you, Shiloh,” Claire called out.

Fear skittered through my body. “Help? With what? I don’t need any help!”

But apparently she needed mine. Her arms reached for me, her face contorted in pain and fear. I lunged forward, one hand slipping through her wrist like water.

Esael chortled. The sound guttural. Melodic but wild. A blade slicing through glass. His feral gaze glowed and pierced. Shadowy tendrils extended from his fingers—writhing blackness as fine as spider silk and just as strong. Threads coiled around my chest, squeezing, slicing into my flesh. My insides were on fire, boiling as if an invisible hand was trying to yank my soul from my body. I struggled for breath.

Terror. Vivid and tangible slid through my veins. I squashed the fear down. Curled my hands into fists. I didn’t cry or squirm. My eyes met his in an unspoken challenge.

Where the heck is Evans to rescue me? Or Trent?

Knowing I needed to be brave, I mentally scrambled for a plan. Briefly, I closed my eyes and used my newfound powers. I unblocked the supernatural world and listened to what my gut was telling me. The intensity of my own magick was evolving. The strength of Native American ancestors ran in my veins. Old. Powerful. Humming inside me. The mystical power tickled my skin. My hair lifted and moved wildly in all directions, the tips writhing like snakes.

Be strong, Shiloh.

My eyes flew open. Too dim. The windows. I wrenched my arms free of the smoky coils. I stared at the windows, the magick singing through my veins. Light and power rushed inside me, swelling. The energy whipped around me, flowing into everything. The flowers. The earth. The trees. Mother Nature lent me her strength—her power. With a flick of my wrist, the curtains parted.

In the shifting gleam of sunlight, I scanned the room.
 

Claire slowly dissipated. Shades faded into shadow. Esael’s face was a mask of fury. His eyelids twitched. He frayed into smoke, the sun sapping him of his strength.

I stood there shivering. Cold as winter. But there was no snowdrift. Just a room crammed with books, soft chairs, a mahogany desk in the corner, and antiques. A maid appeared and swept dirt out the open front door. I watched her detachedly.

I rubbed my temples with my fingers.
A hand touched my shoulder. I jumped. Evans stood beside me. He must have entered the house after I’d opened the windows. He gave me a quizzical look, maybe wanting reassurance all was well. And I couldn’t pretend there was nothing wrong.

“Are you okay?” Evans gave me a strained smile.

I nodded faintly and glanced out the front door, but the old lady was busy sweeping. Pretending, maybe. Hard to tell.

Evans gripped my arm and pulled me into the library, shutting the double doors. “What happened?”

My tongue felt thick. “I’m fine…I think. Something was here. In the house. A wraith,” I whispered. “Claire Donovan.”

“Hmm, just as I suspected.”

“The demon was here too…and I know his name.” My stomach churned, but I swallowed hard, kept it together. “
Esael
.” Saying his name made it more real. Scarier.

“Knowing a
demon’s
true name gives you some
power over
him. I’ll do more research and see what I can discover about Esael.”

I drew a deep breath and released it. “Evans, you were right all along about everything…well, no, you weren’t right about Trent’s mother being a problem. She needs my help. And I intend to, well, help. I had this vision...her suicide was unnatural, like my attempt.”

 
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Don’t forget to pick up the bagels for the crew in the morning.”

Once safely home, I sat cross-legged on my bed. The horrific images replayed in my mind. Esael’s blazing yellow eyes. Claire’s frightened expression. The shades hissing and the evil aura surrounding Ravenhurst. It was too much. And I had a bad feeling I was running out of time.