Beautifully Broken (5 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

The classroom fell silent. Each pair of curious eyes was a tear to my soul.

Crap, another social blunder to talk about. Shiloh, the epic weirdo.

The sun shone through the window, but in my soul it was still night.

Mr. Hall exhaled through disapproving lips. “Miss Ravenwolf, why are you disrupting my classroom?”

My cheeks caught fire. “Uh, well…children need sunshine to grow. I’m on the, um, committee to improve, the…”
Think. Think!
“The social economics of sunlight in, uh, classrooms, Mr. Hall. So if, you don’t mind, please keep the blinds open in the future.”

I took my seat. All traces of my shadowed horror were gone.

Giggles erupted. My classmates snickered, then turned away. Apparently, weird, stuttering girls weren’t worth more than a moment of curiosity. Ashley and the
Trendies
snickered.

Mr. Hall’s mouth fell open. He blinked and faced the chalkboard. “As I was saying class…”

“You are so bizarre,” Ashley whispered. “Such a mental case.”

My bottom lip trembled. I pulled my hoodie over my head, taking detailed notes and snubbing her. Tears cascaded on my cheeks, but I didn’t dare sniffle or swipe them.

All the girls sitting near me whispered the word, “Weirdo. Weirdo. Weirdo.”

“Oh…shut up.” I grabbed my iPod and stuffed my earbuds in, listening to an alternative band.

I hate them. Hate their perfectly coiffed hair. Their matching outfits. And I especially hate that they’re right…I am weird.

The first time I saw the shadows I told my dad. Big mistake. We’d been driving home from a camping trip and evening had crept to the edge of the forest on either side of the highway. The sun dipped her crimson face below the horizon. Shadows wobbled, lengthened, covering the pavement.

“The shadows have spooky shapes. Bloody eyes. What do they want, Dad?”

His face blanched and he almost veered off the road. “
What
?”

Somehow I knew what I’d said had been wrong. Not what he’d wanted to hear.
 

“Nothing. We have more chips?”

He relaxed, and I knew then certain secrets were better kept to myself.

That’s right folks, Shiloh Ravenwolf can see the recently departed and paranormals. Yeah, I know—throw me in a padded cell.

From the grimoires, I’d learned to create psychic defenses, like visualizing a golden barrier that kept paranormals from harming me. Once erected, the barrier wrapped itself over my body like a warm cashmere blanket on a cold winter’s night, protecting me from invisible but tangible forces. The best part was if used correctly, the extrasensory block also concealed fear, which fed dark energy. Shadows loved to nosh on terror. They survived off powerful emotions. Not flesh, but rage. Sorrow and pain were their favorite snack. Little leeches.

From what I found on the Internet and at the library (with help from the cool librarian), the shadows were actually nocturnal creatures named Shades. Small, discernible beings that shapeshifted into amorphous masses. Shades feared sunlight, the same way vampires did. By day, the living shadows were supposedly timorous. I often wondered if the light actually hurt them or just scared them off. By night, they unfurled from the darkness, coalescing into small dark figures. And in a foggy coastal town, like Whispering Pines, days shrouded in fog meant the shades came out to play—or torment—any freaking time they wanted. One common denominator unified the various shadows entering our world—malevolence.

And they had another thing in common…an attraction to
me.

“Shiloh, I need to speak to you,” Mr. Hall bellowed over the ringing bell. Chattering students grabbed their backpacks and textbooks and pushed their way past one another into the corridor.

 
I lingered until the room cleared, then walked to his desk. “Mr. Hall?”

 
“Yes, concerning your essay.” He shuffled papers and organized his books, searching the pile on his desk. “Ah ha! Found it.” He lifted a piece of binder paper from a plastic tray labeled Homework. “Now, regarding your composition on a teenager’s biggest fears, I assumed you understood that this assignment was nonfictional prose.”

Grimacing, I said, “Was it? My bad.”

 
“Yes.” His eyes scanned the page. “You wrote your essay on Achluophobia. Although, I’ll admit a paper on phobias, especially on a fear of the dark, was interesting, I wanted real, honest pieces regarding fears that pertained to your future.”

“Sorry.” I licked my glossed lips, dry tongue catching on the thick gloss I’d applied earlier, when I’d hoped to see Trent. “Do you want me to do the assignment over?”

He rubbed his chin. “No, it was well written and convincing for a fiction piece. Next time try taking notes and stop fidgeting so much in class.”

I backed away, shoving my books into my backpack. “Yes, sir. Thanks!”

I trudged through the rest of my classes, ignoring the giggling
Trendies,
finally making it to lunch. I opened the heavy steel doors to the cafeteria and walked in, holding my head high. There, the waft of greasy fried foods and overcooked burgers assaulted my nostrils. Someone bounced a basketball against the wall. Over the rumble of laughter and conversation, I heard people talking about Trent Donovan as I walked through the room.
Trendies
, a mesh of preps and jocks, were flocked in one corner with trays of food they bought but never ate and were gushing over the summer style edition of
Seventeen
magazine. The chess club huddled in another corner, dressed in slacks and button-down shirts. Skinny emo kids with their colorfully dyed hair and black apparel appeared bored. And the slackers in their wrinkled clothes, scattered throughout in small groups, held that defiant and jaded look. Cafeterias were the nexus that brought cliques together—the epitome of high school life.

I sat at the lunch table with my friends, the social indefinite kids, opened my paper sack, and removed my sandwich. My friend Paige Jones came over with her tray and squeezed in next to me, then squealed when Jada Martin plopped her tray on the table and shoved us all down further on the bench. Jada’s long cotton skirt rustled when she sat and crossed her high-top sneakers. Paige glared, but Jada just grinned. Ariana already seated across from us, laughed and took a bite from her veggie burger.

“Have you seen the new guy in town?” Jada pushed her cherry-dyed ringlets off her shoulders and propped her elbows on the table. Her smooth caramel skin, a mix of Spanish and African American ancestry, made Ariana, sitting across from her, look white as snow in comparison. Jada’s complexion always seemed to glow, even after the long, sunless seasons that turned others into grey ghosts. Unlike me with my perpetual tan skin.

I turned toward Paige on my left. “What’s she babbling about? Wait. Did she forget she already has a boyfriend?” My eyes met Jada’s amaretto stare, and I winked.

“Trent Donovan—duh. He could make anyone forget,” Ariana said with a laugh.

“Now, if you’d been lucky enough to get a glimpse of his hot-self,” Paige said, taking a bite of her burger and dripping ketchup on her pleated blue chiffon blouse. “Then you’d be salivating like most of the girls in the school. Hey! I wonder if he’s on Facebook.” She pulled a BlackBerry from the pocket of her tailored slacks.

Jada leaned forward. “Yes, I have a boyfriend, Shiloh. But, a girl can still admire the male species,” she said, wiping crumbs off her black T-shirt.

I giggled and Ariana joined me.

“Did you guys hear he lives in Ravenhurst?” Jada asked, then without waiting for an answer, added, “Can’t imagine what kinda bizarre person would want to live there. I live on the same street, and it’s like something out of a horror movie. It needs major repairs. My parents are on a committee that is trying to pressure the Heritage Founders to have it torn down.” She shuddered, like something icky had crawled up her back. “I get freaked out just walking past it. Like it’s evil or something. But mostly, I hate it because it’s massively ugly.”
 

Paige snorted. “You’re such a snob. Who cares where he lives? I’m always on the lookout for my next ex-boyfriend.”

“I thought you only dated
barneys
,” Ariana teased.

Page shook her silver-blond head. “So? I like smart nerdy dudes.” Her fingers flew over the buttons of the keyboard on her cell phone. “Ohhh! I found Trent’s profile on FB. Says he’s single.”

“Let me see that.” Ariana snatched the phone from her hands. I leaned over her shoulder to sneak a peek. Trent’s profile pic showed him in shorts holding a surfboard on a beach, waves rolling in behind him. Tan, muscles flexed, stomach taut, and with a big smile on his face, he looked like an advertisement for swimwear. The smile was something new for me—at church, he’d just scowled. My heart tripped at the warmth in his eyes.
 

 
“He won’t be for long. He already has his eye on someone,” Ariana said, handing Paige back her phone.

“Who?” everyone chorused, leaning in closer.

Ariana opened her mouth, but I cut her off. “He does not!”

All heads shifted in my direction.

Jada threw a French fry at my head. “Something you want to tell us, Shiloh?”

I pretended to be fascinated with my sandwich, tearing off the crust.

Jada nudged Ariana. “What ‘bout you? Got the hots for Donovan? Only epic thing to happen here in years?”

Ariana scoffed. “There’s definitely a swoonage factor. He’s like diverse and volatile. Except he’s definitely not into me—”

“He came to church on Sunday, but he didn’t talk to anyone,” I interrupted, shifting in my seat and remembering how I’d drooled like a big doofus. I picked at my sandwich and recalled how gazing into those incredible emerald eyes had also stirred something deep within me. It was stupid to crush on a guy like him; I wasn’t beautiful or super sophisticated. I was nobody special.

“But,” Ariana said, leaning forward, “he was totally checking her out.” I kicked her under the table. “Oww!” She rubbed her shin, grinning devilishly.

“Lucky girl,” Jada said.

My finger absently traced the thick red scar hidden under my sleeve. “Pretty boys like him don’t date, well,
girls
like me. He’s totally unattainable.”

“
Hel-lo
. Says who?” Jada’s laugh had a hard edge to it. “Don’t give me that pooh. That’s stereotyping. There’s nothing wrong with middleclass—”

“I didn’t say that. I meant the guy’s out of my league.”

Jada’s head fell to the side. “Are you really that clueless, Shiloh? If Trent can’t see how sweet and smart you are, then he’s a dumbass.” She winked to soften her words.

“Thanks.” Everyone was staring, so I rolled my eyes and said, “Whatever.”

“You’re just as good as he is.
Better
,” Ariana said.

“Yeahhh. Doesn’t he know who I am? I mean,
hello
?” I teased, pointing at myself in a diva like fashion and wiggling my hips.

“You should just talk to him—go up and say hi—”

I cut Ari off. “No.
No.
That way leads to babbling and sweaty palms.”

Ari waved a hand in front of my face to shush me. “FYI—Trent’s attending this fancy prep school in San Francisco, he likes to play soccer, and his favorite color is blue,” she said, matter-of-factly.

I quirked a brow. “You learned all that already?”

“Please. I got that hours ago. Between homeroom and third period.”

Everyone cracked up and I only smiled. A massive twinge of disappointment hit my heart.

He doesn’t go to school here. Damn. That really sucks.

“His father’s a big snob,” Jada said. “Mr. Donovan never comes into town. Thinks he’s too good for the rest of us. I guess that murder charge didn’t help him win any friends.”

A shudder passed through me. “Murder?”

CHAPTER SIX

“They tried to keep the rumors about the murder quiet.” Jada leaned forward and I edged closer on the cafeteria bench. Around us, kids gabbled and screeched, but Jada lowered her voice and continued speaking, as if oblivious to the loud high school lunchroom surrounding us. “Maxwell Donovan was suspected of killing his wife inside Ravenhurst. Police didn’t believe it was a suicide at first. According to my dad, Sheriff Boyd said the charges didn’t stick. Afterwards, Trent’s dad took him outta school and they left town.”

“Can we get off this subject?” Ariana asked. “It’s creeping me out.”

“Why? What else does a small town like ours have to gossip about?” An insolent grin swept across Jada’s face. “C’mon, not much happens in Whispering Pines. Unless…you count all the missing kids—”

“Ohmygosh, did you guys hear about Sarah Boyd?” Paige interrupted. “She was taken from her bedroom two weeks ago. She just…vanished.”

“That’s three kids who’ve gone missing in the last two years,” Jada said and leaned across the table and everyone else mimicked her. “For a grand total of six kids who have vanished in the last seventeen years.”

“I overheard it on the news yesterday morning,” I said. “No wonder Sheriff Boyd enforced a curfew. His only daughter—disappearing like that. Hmm, I wonder what those kids have in common.”

“They’re all descendants of the original thirteen families.”

We stared at Jada, shocked by her statement. Paige caught my gaze and gave me a raised eyebrow, like she was wondering if I knew something. I shook my head and turned my attention back to Jada. 

Jada rolled her eyes. “Don’t you guys study our history?” Everyone either shrugged or shook their heads. “Thirteen families originally settled in Whispering Pines and each of the missing kids can trace their ancestry to the founders…like us and the few others who are left.”

Her last words dangled over our heads like a noose.

“You’re right. Only seven of us left,” Ariana whispered. “It’s like the rumors are true—there really is a curse on our town.”

“Or it’s some crazed serial killer,” Paige said. “
Ohhh!—
or someone with a serious grudge against our families.”

“Too many unsolved disappearances. Even the FBI was baffled,” I said, recalling what I’d heard on the various news accounts.

“Because whoever’s taking these kids has the ability to
make people disappear
that borders on the
mystical
,” Jada added quietly.

Shadow Man’s threat resonated through my mind:
Debts must be paid.

I tugged my sleeve over my scar. And I blurted what everyone was thinking, “Why only our families? And how does someone make a person just disappear?”

Silence descended. Gradual, obscure. Heavy and thick as fog.

A single thought screamed in my mind.
Shadow Man. He’s behind this. He has to be the one taking innocent lives. The question is how and why. And who’s next on the supernatural hit list?
I shivered in panic as my gut told me my terrible thought was correct.

“This is too horror-movie-of-the week for me. Change of topic—now!” Ariana touched my arm. “Did you find a summer job yet? School gets out in three weeks.”

The group seemed to breathe. Move. Life returned to limbs, but the tension and unsaid questions remained floating in space.

“Nope.” My shoulders drooped. “Still looking.”

We managed to finish lunch without mentioning curses or Trent again. Twice I caught the hag from hell, Ashley glancing at us from across the room. I managed to ignore her. When the bell rang, I went to my locker to grab my history book and spotted the
Trendies
standing by a locker two over from mine.

 
“Shiloh, what was with you earlier?” Ashley’s mouth spread into a wicked grin. “You’re such a psycho!”

I took my iPod from my pocket and lowered the volume. Then I grabbed a textbook from my locker, before facing Ashley. “Whatever you say.”

She had one hand on her hip. “Heard Trent Donovan was scoping you. But don’t get any ideas, squaw-girl. He likes
me
.”

Ugh, I hate being spineless and scared all the time. Scared of Ashley, shadows, unseen supernatural evils, and wraiths. My phobia list is getting long.

“Really? I mean,
really
.” My body tensed, muscles quivering
.
“Because I heard he’s not interested in dating trendy sluts.” With my head tilted downward, I put one hand over my lips and fake pouted. “Too
bad
for you.”

Ashley took two steps and seized my upper arm. “How would you know?” Her nails dug into my flesh. Her mouth was next to my ear, her words cold and clear as ice water. “Let me clue you in, guys like him like girls like
me.
Girls who know how to show a guy a good time. We both know I’m
it
at this school. Everyone worships me. And Trent Donovan is
mine
.”

 
“Oh really? What if I told you he was crazy smiling at me on Sunday?” The words flew out of my mouth before I could think. Huh. Maybe I was growing a backbone after all.

“I’d say he’s just being nice to the handicapped.
And
I’ve got a date with him tonight—squaw.”

My stomach flipped nervously.
What?
I scrunched my face into confused lines.

Trent and Ashley? Ughhh…no effing way. And what was it she kept calling me?

“Squaw?” My skin prickled with hate. The magick stirred within me like a dangerous live wire. Rage heated my flesh and flowed into my fingers, blending with my power. It turned my magick from silver to onyx. Darkness gnawing to get out.

“Oh, Shiloh, I forgot to mention how much I
love
your hair today,” Ashley said, her voice dripping condescension. “Embracing your roots, Pocahontas?”

The
Trendies
burst into giggles.

Self-consciously, I touched my flat-ironed hair. My lips tensed. “Do you seriously want me to respond? Or just glare?”

“Just remember I’m the one who has a date with Trent. Too bad for
you
,” Ashley mocked.

“I don’t care,” I lied and wore my best phony smile. Inside my heart slid into my stomach.

“I can tell.” Ashley dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Have a fabulous day.”

Errr, I have shadows menacing me and to top it off Ashley’s bugging me too!

Anger shuddered through me. My scarred arm rose on its own, trembling. Energy crackled around me, lifting my hair. Prickles of electricity ran across my skin and into my hand. I pointed a finger at Ashley’s back and without realizing what I was doing—zapped her. Violently. She convulsed and stumbled into her friends. They fell forward in a tangle of legs and arms and books.

Jerking back in shock over what I’d done, I quickly turned and pushed against the flow of students heading to various classes. Sounds of girls’ shrieking and scrabbling to stand up trailed behind me.

My racing heartbeat pounded loudly in my chest.
I must have some magick like my ancestors. Which only seems to surface whenever I’m angry or scared. Why haven’t I used it before? This is awesome! But also kinda scary.

Ariana came out of the bathroom and frowned. “Hey—what’s wrong?”

“One word.
Ashley
.” My hands balled into fists.

“Don’t feel special, she hates everyone. Forget her.” She peered over my shoulder. “What’s going on over there?”

“Nothing. Ashley tripped in her platforms.”

She laughed. “Serves her right.” She tugged on my sleeve, pulling me in a different direction. “C’mon, let’s check out the summer job listings.”

 
“Okay.” I straightened my spine. “You’re right, and the most practical person I know.”

“Damn straight. Come on.” Ariana dragged me by the arm to the school bulletin board littered with announcements, employment flyers, and volunteer opportunities. A flyer advertising a summer job as the assistant to a restoration specialist grabbed my attention. I read the list of requirements. Then my blood froze in my veins. The intern position would be for the reconstruction of the elephantine historical mansion, Ravenhurst. The house rumored to be haunted by spirits.

Just my luck. Not only am I a supernatural magnet, but I happen to be crushing on a guy who lives in the local haunted house. A house offering me the chance to learn more about my dream job—architecture. Not a good combination. Not good at all. Life is not without its ironies. But that’s destiny for ya.

 
“Hey. This would be perfect for you.” Ariana stabbed the flyer with a finger. “You love architecture and you’ll get to hang with Trent all summer.” She nudged me in the side, her smile full of life.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “I—I don’t know.”

“What’s to know? School’s almost out, and it’ll look excellent on your college apps.”

 
True, on all accounts. But… “That place is haunted, remember?”

She snorted. “C’mon, those are just rumors. Be adventurous. If there are hidden creatures of darkness there or the house is haunted—you let me know.” She winked and gave me a goofy grin.

My response was a groan. Sometimes, I wanted to tell Ariana about the shadowfolk running amok and menacing me, but I realized how super crazy that would sound.

“Ow.” I rubbed my arm. “You pinched me.”

“You’re spacing out again. What’s with you lately?”

“No, I wasn’t.” I ignored her second question.

A gust rushed through the paper-strewn hallway, lifting our hair and chilling my skin. Above our heads, the fluorescent lights blinked. They grew brighter, then dimmed and made a loud buzzing noise that ricocheted off the metal lockers. Loose papers skittered past us, sticking to the lockers. Air cold, damp—wintry.

“Thought you wanted to be an architect?”

The dingy walls heaved and breathed, closing in on me. Shades swooshed overhead.

“Yeah, I do,” I said, fighting to appear calm. “More than anything, Ari.”

Shadows darkened the taupe walls, gliding over the lockers. Everything they touched turned black like tar on virgin snow. The disgusting stench of sulfur assailed my sinuses, so overpowering that I guessed it was brimstone. It choked me and clogged my lungs. I turned my head and coughed into my shoulder.

Ariana wrinkled her nose. “What is that odd smell?”

I shrugged and fiddled with the strap on my pink backpack. How to explain?
Um, yeah, that’s the smell of Hell. Like that would go over real well.

“Did you…see that?” She stared at the shadows. The darkened hallway. An odd expression passed over her face. Her gaze found mine. She looked spooked.

My heart sped into a chaotic rhythm. Ariana, scared? Seeing things? The shades had better not be coming after my best friend. The rage that had come before, when Ashley had made the racial slur, came back. I looked around, glaring at the darkness. “See what?”

A black
nebulous
veil hung above us.

“I thought...” Ariana shook her head and smiled. “Never mind.” She tipped her palms up and down like a scale. “So what would ya rather do? Hang out in the sun with Trent this summer.
Or
be stuck working long hours with crappy pay at the Pizza Palace with me?” She waggled her brows. “I vote for hanging with Trent.
Ooh-la-la
.”

At her goofy grin, I couldn’t help it—I cracked up. The rage still simmered, but on low, not a roiling boil. “Yeahhh, hanging with Trent sounds way more fun.” While Ariana was busy reading the other flyers, I raised my arm and pointed at the shades. I mouthed the words,
Be gone, creatures of darkness!
Screeches erupted and they shrank back into the dark corners. I smiled and gave myself a mental pat on the back.

This whole facing my fear thing was starting to work. Well, kind-of. I’d still let Ashley get to me. With words and name-calling. Dumb.

“Shiloh, look at me,” Ariana said. I met her steady blue gaze as she continued. “Girl, you need to live a little. And not through books. When was the last time you had a date?”

I shrugged again and rolled my eyes. “Guys think I’m strange and a bookworm.”

“Yeah, well, hanging out in libraries may improve your mind but won’t get you any dates. I know you like Trent…and I get this odd feeling by the way he was staring at you that he likes you too. So why not go for it?”

Hmm, maybe Ariana is right and I should be more daring. Hook up with a cute boy. And not let the shades rule my life. Or fear.

Just as I had finished talking myself into taking the job, Ariana said, “Then what’s with the worry face? Apply for the damn job. I’ll even help you fill out the application.” She ripped the flyer off the board and ran down the hall before I could protest further.

Hiking my backpack higher on my shoulder, I ran after her. I knew I was going to regret this as I yelled, “Okay, Ari—wait up!”