Beautifully Broken (24 page)

So I say, goodbye dear sister. Forgive me for being weak. I can no longer live this way. My heart has turned to stone. How can I be a mother if I feel nothing? Now Maxwell will have to finish raising our son. Someday he will have to tell him what I did to save him. The sacrifices I made. Things I’ve forsaken for family—for the life of my son.

As I await death, I have donned my wedding gown to remind Maxwell of our marriage vows. And my long held wish to be buried in my bridal attire.

I’m here, Esael. I’m ready…

I glanced out the windows. I remembered the vision of Claire and Esael, the day Jillian had stopped the car in front of Ravenhurst. Claire had shown me her death. And the reason she had sacrificed herself. So Trent could live. He’d never been in danger. I realized that now. Just me.

Twilight had taken over the sky, turning it pink, blue and orange. The signaling of the end of a day. Claire had led me into the attic to discover these letters, the family’s Rosetta stone. Silent tears spilled from my eyes, falling upon the pages, smearing her handwriting. I cried for her and her son. I cried for the unfairness of it and her weakness. I cried for Trent’s loss of a doting parent.

Oh, Claire, as the day faded into night, I cried for you.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

After going downstairs to wipe the snot from my nose and dry my face, I knew the answers to all my problems had been hiding in Ravenhurst. One glance at the grandfather clock told me it was after seven. I’d been reading in the attic for hours. The foyer was empty. I flipped the switch and turned on the chandelier to illuminate the perpetually dim house. Not even the slightest whisper of sound. If anything, the stillness was greater than before.

All the windows suddenly burst open. A violent gust thrashed through the rooms, causing the curtains to whip wildly into the air. Outside the winds hissed, loud and hostile. Curtains lashed my face as I fought to shut them. With the last window closed, the room resettled with an uncanny calm. I blew out a breath and ascended the stairs. A dark silhouette further down the hall stiffened and retreated into the shadows.

“Evans, is that you? Trent?” The figure moved into the light and I realized it was a girl with auburn hair and milky-white skin. I narrowed my gaze. “Don’t move! Who are you? What are you doing here?” I demanded. My nails bit into my palms.

The girl turned and burst through the swinging doors into the kitchen, sprinting toward the backstairs.

“Wait!” I flew after her, running so fast the hardwood floors groaned, their sharp protest alarmingly loud in the silence. I took the back stairs two at a time. Shades materialized in their vaporous forms and raced ahead of me. They snarled and complained, as if I was taking too long to reach the top. They waited on the landing, hunched—thick, black blobs. Crimson eyes staring. I growled at them. Shades wobbled backward, eyes blazing. Dark figures crouched. They were three feet tall and had spiny arms and short legs, with only three fingers on each hand.
Claw?

I reached the landing and cried, “Enough! Stop freakn’ terrorizing me!”

Anger surged through me. I’d had enough of these little beasties chasing after me.

With their shadowy heads bowed, they scooted back.

“Stop right there.” I stood my ground, pulling out a plastic squirt gun filled with holy water from my back pocket. I pointed the weapon at the shadows. “I’m packing heat, so don’t run. Reveal yourselves.
Now
.”

The primordial shades parted, lengthened, and morphed into four melanous figures. Tough, shiny teardrop scales coated most of their body except the neck and stomach. Shades squatted before me, scaly armor the color of moss, little barbs poking from their spines like dragons. Muscular arms and legs. Tiny pointy nails. Vaguely human with canine features and pupils as big and round as a dog.

I stood there rooted to the floor, amazed.

One of the little hounds grinned, displaying sharp teeth. “Greetings, sorceress.” His chin touched his chest in a bow. Like I was a queen. Huh.

The other shades waddled forward.

“Uh…you guys look like ugly mutts, but in a totally cute and creepy sorta way.”

One powerfully built shade spoke with a rasp. “During the daylight, we are shadow, mist, fog. At night, we something else.”

“Demonic little shapeshifters, right?”

“Only in hours of darkness, can we assume our true form. We crawled from a crack in the underworld. Here the realms are weak.”

“I figured that…” My teeth grazed my bottom lip. “Why the hell have you been stalking me?”

“Attracted to your powers.” He blinked, unwavering. “We no stalk. We guard.”

“Seriously? Then why haven’t you protected me from Esael? Wait—you tried to kill me!”

His head lifted slowly. “We save you. Stop Esael from dropping tree on you. And the electric light. He strong. Powerful. We weak…”

 
“He scares me too.”

“Mark of the beast takes root within you. Esael will soon claim his next award.”

I licked my lips. “Who’s next? Me?”

“The girl.”

“What girl?”

He shrugged. Fear and rage knotted inside me.
I have to protect the other teenagers.

I sighed and squatted to rub the shade’s head. “So what are your names?”

“Me…Bakaz.” He pointed a claw at the others. “My brethren, Azeri, Kasha, and Zrekam.”

They tilted their heads, eager as dogs, their claws clasped, with impatient faces and wide crimson eyes. Azeri extended a claw to grasp my hand. Bakaz traced a claw along the length of the serrated mark on my forearm.

“Why haven’t you spoken to me before? Or revealed yourselves?”

Bakaz cocked his shiny jade head. “We…afraid.”

“Of who? Esael?”

Four heads bent simultaneously, speaking in whispers. Bakaz’s head popped up, eyes flashing fire. “Fear Soul Eater…but now fear you
more
.”

“And what’s changed?”

“You.”

That surprised me.
Have I changed? Is my magick expanding? Will it become something I can’t control?

“Oh-kay. Since you’re supposed to protect me, I need your help.”

“You most powerful witch. You alone can defeat Esael,” Bakaz said.

Kasha, the smallest shade, (I figured she was a girl because of the raven dreadlocks hanging from her head), grasped my hand with her claw. The little demon smiled. Creepy.

“I’m in training. I don’t even know any spells.”

Wait, that isn’t true.

Bakaz stiffened, alert, terror lighting his eyes. “He comes.”

They slunk into the dark bends, transforming from flesh back into mist. I sensed something approaching. My hands shook. I pressed my arms against my chest. Whatever it was, I instinctively knew if the shades were scared—it was bad. Real bad.

I made an effort to concentrate on slowing my breath while I stumbled along, desperate to escape this overstuffed mausoleum.

Heat searing my scar. Nervous fluttering in my heart. Muscles stiffening in my leg.

In the corridor, a terrifying shape of a shadowy figure stood waiting and it radiated pure evil. Struggling to take shape…a head floating above an obsidian body, the edges sharp, the angles inhuman. I peered closer; sure enough, a hideously mutilated man stared back at me with ocher glowing eyes.

My blood roared in my ears. Tears clouded my vision.

Esael stepped closer. He became materialized—bone, muscle, skin—leathery flesh, shadow blending into darkness. Eyes the color of cerise, the pupils a glowing flame. No hair, only a black angular face. His aura dark, opulent. Vile.

Blood drained to the soles of my feet. I found movement, my voice. “No.”

“Promises must be kept. Debts paid.”

I pointed a finger at him, my eyes open wide. “You
cannot
have Trent.”

Esael sniffed the air, eyes pinning me against the wall. “Ah, young Shiloh—you smell like sweet meat. The power surrounding you is stimulating.” His gaze met mine, hungry, imperceptible. “Such untapped mystical energy.”

Moving so fast the human eye couldn’t track him. Esael clutched my arm, yanking me toward him. His rough hand caressed the mark that branded my forearm. A licking heat touched my face. He flung back his head. A thick cloud of smoke vomited from his mouth. The weaving cloud snake had electricity pulsing throughout it.

Shades slunk closer. They stole my fear. Drank it up. Feeding. Once the fear had left me, anger replaced it. My voice was louder this time. “
No
.”

I wrenched my arm from his grasp and he staggered back.

Looking into his evil yellow eyes, I totally lost it. Shrill, wild animal like sounds tore from my throat and echoed throughout Ravenhurst. Anger burned through me. My hand vibrated with power. I pointed at Esael. Mystical energy surged from my fingertips, blistering his skin. He lurched backward into the wall. His eyes rolled back. He swayed. Weak. Fading. His body wavered under the blast of magical vines that slashed at his face. Fresh blood dotted the corners of his eyes.

Stepping away from the demon’s reach, I collided with the wall. My hand hung, suspended. The magick zapped his strength, mercurial as silver, shooting from my hand like sterling tentacles.

A hand gripped my shoulder and I screamed.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Bright light flooded the hallway, causing me to squint. A lamp had been switched on. My arms dropped to my sides. My body vibrated with mystical energy. I struggled to control it. Gritted my teeth. The room rolled and tilted. Trent’s face loomed before me, I saw two—no, three of him.

“Shiloh, calm down. It’s me, Trent.” His hands gripped my shoulders. “Are you having some sort of seizure?”

I didn’t answer. My body still thrummed with mystical energy. I closed my eyes and swallowed the magick down. Pushed it downward into my belly. Locked it away. Trent released me and I slid to the floor. I took deep, calming breaths until I felt the power diminishing, leaving my system. Trent squatted and took me in his arms. My eyes opened. For a terrible moment, we were locked in silence. My gaze darted around the room. We were alone.

“What were you doing? Are you okay?”

My arms tightened around him. “You scared me.”

“What were you doing?” he repeated, leaning back on his heels.

My voice was fragile, shaky. “Just waiting for you…then I heard a noise.” Tears flowed like drops of blood from an old wound onto my blouse. “There’s someone else here, Trent.”

“Another ghost?” He stood and shook his head.

“No. A girl.” I shoved past him and descended the stairs. Over my shoulder I yelled, “I saw her, so don’t deny it.” The fires of jealousy smoldered within me. I staggered toward the front door, wiping at snot and tears with my sleeve.

Trent bounded down the stairs behind me. He clutched my arm and spun me around in the foyer. “You can’t leave like this.”

The hole in my heart widened.
Who was she? A girl from his prep school?
For a second I said nothing. Then the words burst from my mouth, “I’ve
had
it. I’m getting away from you and this freaky house!” I struggled against him. “Lemme go, Trent.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he snapped. But the look on his face told me otherwise. He was keeping something from me.

My nostrils flared. I wrenched my arm free of his grip. “You lied. Broke my heart.”

“Will you calm down and talk to me. Please?” Trent’s handsome features twisted into hurt and confusion. “Don’t you trust me?”

I wavered. Heat licking my face. Uncertainty lingering in my heart. “I do, but I don’t understand why you’re always pushing me away. What are you afraid of?”

“It’s hard to explain. It’s not you…” His next words were spoken more tenderly. “You have to believe me—I’m not seeing anyone else. I swear.”

“Well that I
don’t
believe.” I heard the venom in my tone, but didn’t bother to restrain it. “You’re a cheater—just like your father.”

His expression clouded. “Whoa—what did you say?”

“Forget it,” I said with a hiccup.

“I don’t want to forget it,” he said, his tone weary. “You called my father a cheater.”

I stared at the floor. “I…I don’t know why I said that.” An aching sense of isolation burned like incense in my veins.

“Then stop spazzing out. You’re my girl. My
only
girl.” He lifted my chin. “Now tell what has you so upset.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I said, my voice sounding sad.

“You’re wrong…although I bet you’d make a pretty good poker player.”

I laughed dryly through my tears. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, Shiloh. You can trust me. I know what rejection feels like. How it can leave you hollow. An empty space inside.”

I’m already hollow.
My head bobbed. Finally, someone who understood. And I was pushing him away. Acting like a jealous, insecure bitch. But something inside me was broken and couldn’t be repaired.

“I know because my father would rather pretend I didn’t exist,” he said. “It hurts. Hurts like hell.” Pain was in his eyes. He appeared to be like one big raw open nerve. “And I miss having a mom. Even though I was a baby when she died, I’ve always felt like someone ripped out a slice of my heart. I used to envy kids who had attentive parents. A mom who greeted them after school. Baked cookies and was on the PTA…” He smiled forlornly and tilted his head to the side. “I know I act like a cocky jerk sometimes. It’s just because like you, I’m hiding. I pretend I don’t care…but the truth is…I do. You know?”

He bared his soul and I hardened my heart.

I turned and walked away, but I didn’t get far before he touched my shoulder, his grip tight. Beneath his hand, I felt sharp, tangled. I shrugged him off.

“Shiloh.” He spoke my name softly, like a plea, a question, and I was undone, sobbing. It was too much. Too intense. The last two months had been terrifying and emotional. I sagged against him, his warmth seeping into my cold limbs. I buried my face in his soft cotton shirt. My mind was grappling at the edges of something that had been troubling me for awhile. Something about Trent and my irrevocable love for him.

I pulled in my breath, trying to hold back a sob. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“Are you sick? Should I take you to the hospital?”

It’s much more complicated, and not easily cured.

“You don’t get it.” I shook my head so hard my hair whipped around crazily. “I’m cursed.”

“No. We both are.” His lips covered mine and he kissed me almost violently. His mouth hard. Searching. His tongue gentle. Inviting. My breath released in a wild gasp. I knotted my fingers in his scruffy hair, clutching him tighter to me. He kissed me deeply, his passion mingling with mine until I simply ceased to exist. The only things tangible were his fingers, his lips, and his heartbeat beneath my palm. I struggled to throttle the dizzying current that raced through me. My overwhelming emotions were too much, sending me whirling into a chaos of indecision and confusion and hurt and I latched on to him like a sinking woman to a raft.

I opened my eyes to see his downcast, his mouth unsmiling.

 
“I care so much about you, Shiloh.” In a gruff, unfamiliar voice, he added, “No one will ever come between us—I swear it.”

Trent’s words hung thickly in the small gap between us.
A declaration. A vow. A promise.

 
“Are you feeling better?” he asked. “Because I want to finally introduce you to Madison.”

I struggled to find my voice, but it was a stranger’s voice I found. “Who?”

Trent took my hand and led me into the parlor. He eased me into an armchair. “Sit. I know I should’ve told you sooner.” He shed his hooded sweatshirt, throwing it over the sofa. He looked somber in his black Abercrombie t-shirt and frayed jeans with black motorcycle boots. “Wait, please, and I’ll tell you everything.”

I slumped into the thickness of the chair. He bounded upstairs and the floorboards resonated with the heavy tread of his steps. Five minutes passed before he reentered the room, pausing in the doorway and glancing over his shoulder before sitting on the chair across from mine. Once more, he looked behind him, peering into the dimness of the foyer before turning back to me. “I need to tell you something…” He studied my face, his eyes growing darker. “I’m not an only child. I have a younger sister named Madison.”

“Huh?” My fingers gripped the arms of the chair. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I wanted to, but there never seemed to be a good time. The thing about Madison is…that she’s been institutionalized most of her life—”

“Oh? What’s wrong with her?”

 
“Madison’s mildly retarded. No biggie.” He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “At least that’s the prognosis of her specialists. When Madison was born, the umbilical cord got wrapped around her neck and she didn’t get enough oxygen to her brain—”

“She’s here? Now? Where?” I sat up.

“Yes, but don’t you get it? I brought Madison home a month ago. All those strange things you thought you heard and saw was just my sister. Not a ghost. Let go get her. Just a sec.” Trent walked into the other room, and a slim silhouette appeared beside him. “Come on in, that’s it.” He advanced into the room with a petite girl clinging to his arm.

I sucked in a breath.
Ohmygod, those eyes.
I studied her in horror and fascination. Madison’s hazel gaze swung my way and held. Clutching Trent’s arm, she entered the room, dragging her feet. She had delicate features, a charming nose, and rosebud mouth. Her auburn hair hung in voluminous waves to her waist. Her aura rippled, dark green, indigo, magenta.

 
“This girl is your sister?” I asked to confirm what my ears had heard but my mind refused to comprehend.

“Yes.” He smiled. “Shiloh, this is Madison.”

Her head tilted unnaturally to one side, and in her hands, she held a china doll. Madison sat on the embroidered loveseat next to Trent, clinging to his arm in a protective, almost possessive manner.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Lemme explain.” Trent tried to lean forward, but Madison refused to let go of his arm. “Due to health issues, her existence was kept secret by my family. When I heard my father had her institutionalized, I
hated
him for it. For running away from his responsibilities.”

Madison fingered the hem of her satin dress of cornflower blue. She swung her bare and dirty feet. Her eyes narrowed on me.

“After my sister and I finally met at the hospital,” Trent said, his voice deepening, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. “I demanded that my father have her released. And I promised to take care of her.” He squeezed Madison’s small hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice sounded stifled and unnatural.

“Don’t look at me like that. Some lies are necessary…or so my father says,” Trent said, obviously trying to reason with me. “Since we’re on the subject of dishonesty, what are you and my uncle always whispering about?”
 

He’s more perceptive than I thought.

I shrugged. “Nothing. Just the designs for Ravenhurst. Architect stuff.”

He reclined in his chair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I thought…” His face softened, the suspicion leaving his eyes. “You’re right, Shiloh, I should’ve told you.”

My heart slowed.
He doesn’t know about me. About my powers.

He exhaled, gesturing to Madison. “So you see? Ravenhurst isn’t haunted. I intended to confess everything—”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.”

 
A lump rose in my throat. I looked from Trent to his younger sister. Their differences were glaringly apparent.
Can’t Trent see how much Madison closely resembles someone else?

“I’m confused,” I said. “Um, why do you think you’re related?”

Lines formed between his eyebrows. He licked his lips. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because you look nothing alike,” I answered calmly, but a pang hit my gut. My voice refused to speak my suspicions aloud. I stared at Madison and Jillian’s face swam before me.

Madison’s eyes skipped from one object to the next, never focusing on one thing for more than ten seconds. Until…until those strange eyes fell upon me and darkened.

“Why she here?” Madison asked in a child-like voice.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Trent replied. He placed a reassuring arm over Madison’s shoulder. She snuggled closer to him. “I wanted you guys to finally meet.”

“I have to go,” I said. “It was nice to meet you, Madison.” I started to rise, but Trent waved me back down.

“Why?” His voice had a sad timbre to it. Thick with things unsaid. “Please stay. We can hang out. Watch a movie. Clear the air.”

“Why bother? I hate secrets.” My parents kept secrets too. Especially Jillian. Now Trent.

He snorted. “Oh really? Well, trust is a two-way street, babe. I know you’ve been keeping things from me too. Now about Madison—”

“She won’t understand the house!” I blurted, then blushed from my toes to my scalp.

“What—”

I put one hand up. “You’ve had your say and you’re right. I haven’t been honest with you either.” My tone sounded loud, bordering on hysteria. “But you need to hear it.” I blew out a breath and said, “Ravenhurst
is
haunted. I should know, I can sense things with my, um, superpowers. Well, actually...” I paused and looked him in the eye. “I can see ghosts. Talk to them too. Your uncle and I have been working together to find a way to cleanse your house.”

His mouth fell open. He sat back and stared at me as though I was completely nuts.

“The point I’m trying to make is—
don’t shake your head—
it’s true. Ravenhurst is a beacon for otherworldly creatures, a haven for evil. You’re not safe here. Either is your, um, sister.”

The queerest expression darkened his gorgeous features “What the hell is wrong with you?” His tone was harsh,
“Damn it,
Shiloh! This house is not haunted! Whatever you think you’ve heard, it’s just been Madison. Or one of the maids, who looks after her while I’m at school.”

 
“This isn’t about Madison sneaking around the house. Ravenhurst is haunted. Haunted!” I insisted, sitting up and pounding my fists into the sides of the chair. My stomach ached. Like his words were stabbing me in the heart. He was supposed to be my best friend. My boyfriend. He was supposed to believe me. But he never had and that hurt worst of all.
 

I sat there with my heart breaking. My pride stinging. My chest hollowing out.

Madison rolled her head back and snorted, apparently mocking me.

My eyes searched the room for the shades. Shadows flickered; rolling smudges covered the far wall. I opened my mouth to summon them, but my throat closed. They stared, red eyes blinking. The grandfather clock noisily ticked away the time and the shadows grumbled. I stayed locked in silence. Unsure if exposing all of my secrets was a smart thing to do. Or dangerous. Or if Trent could see the same things I saw. Things that lurked in the dark.

“I can prove it,” I said.

“Not sure I like Shiloh,” Madison said. She flared her eyes at me, turning them from soft brown to dark green. So much like Jillian’s eyes.
Our mother.
I knew what that meant.

 
“Shiloh,” Trent said, “prove what? You’re kinda overreacting.”