Broken Butterflies (35 page)

Ilisha zipped up her own dress. It was red satin, with narrow straps. She slid her finger in between her heel and the new Louis Vuitton shoes Damon had bought her. Ilisha had spent hours rolling her hair, and now it cascaded down her back.

Damon walked in, tux fitting perfectly. Ilisha gave him a crooked smile and bit her lip. “You look deliciously edible.”

She took his hand as he lifted Brooklyn up and they walked out to a Porsche Cayenne, which Damon grumbled about. “I must really love this little girl to be driving this.”

“Hey, you got the turbo model,” Ilisha replied grinning.

As they pulled up to the old church John was outside beaming. “Your mother needs you,” he said to Ilisha

Ilisha handed the baby off to Damon and Ilisha walked through the doors of the fully restored church. No longer were the gargoyles staring down. The walls were white, with wood trim. Each pew had carvings of flowers running up the legs and backs. The room was lined with stained glass that let the light pour in.

Ilisha found her mother in a small room off the chapel. She sat facing a mirror, applying her makeup. Ilisha knelt beside her and took the brush from her hand. “Here, let me.”

“I don’t want a lot of makeup, honey.”

“Mom, trust me.”

Ilisha applied hues of brown to her mom’s lids and followed with mascara. Dena looked in the mirror and smiled.

Helping her mother into her dress, Ilisha choked back the emotions. At Ilisha’s insistence Dena would walk down the aisle in a Vera Wang. The dress was simple, but elegant. It was strapless, and tight at the bodice, while flaring slightly as it flowed down. A lace jacked covered Dena’s shoulders. Ilisha pushed the veil’s comb into Dena’s knotted hair and the veil hung down her back. “You look so beautiful,” Ilisha said kissing her cheek.

As the organ began to play Ilisha grabbed her bouquet of purple Iris’s, which were her mother’s favorite, and walked out. Damon smiled as she passed him and she winked back. Brooklyn danced happily on his lap. She reached the front of the chapel and stood on the raised platform that held John’s podium, and waited for her mother to approach. When she emerged Ilisha glanced at John, whose face was bright with wonderment. His eyes stared at Dena as though she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

As they read their vows, Ilisha glanced once more at Damon and mouthed “I love you.”

Dena and John didn’t want a reception, so they headed home after the wedding.

Damon watched as Ilisha laid the baby in her crib and tucked her favorite blanket in her arms. She looked up at him. “What?”

Come with me. Ilisha took his hand. When they got to the bottom of the stairs he asked her to close her eyes. Damon wrapped his arms around her, pressing his body to her back. She walked with him blindly.

“You can open them now.”

Her eyes beheld their transformed backyard. Hundreds of tiny white lights hung overhead, giving the area a soft glow. Soft music played in the background. Damon took her hand and spun her around, before pulling her to him. He took her right hand in his and wrapped his left around her waist and began to sway.

“Since I didn’t have a reception to dance with you, I thought I would create one.”

“Damon, it is so beautiful.”

“No, what’s beautiful is you. Life doesn’t get better than this.”

Avid Cleveland Browns fan, animal lover, and paranormal addict are just a few ways to describe Shadow Stephens. Shadow grew up in Ohio and West Virginia, which gave her a fear of snakes and the ability to fix anything with duct tape. She has been writing since childhood, but wrote her first novel three years ago. She now resides in Utah with a veritable menagerie of pets and a million ideas in her head just waiting to be put on paper. When she isn’t ghost hunting, Shadow can be found writing paranormal romance and urban fantasy novels. This will be her first published book, with many more to follow.

You can find her at:

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Also Available by Shadow Stephens

—Legion of Bats—

They were all different, but together they changed the world
In a world governed by fear and corruption, a baby, Zoe Masterson, was born and immediately targeted for death. Hidden away in the rural West Virginia town of Tanner, Zoe grows up feeling like an outsider—always just a little bit different from
the people around her. As bad becomes worse, she is arrested for arson and a murder she didn’t commit. She is taken to a mental hospital, where she discovers nothings is as it seems and her destiny awaits her. Zoe quickly becomes caught in a web of strange abilities, politics, murder, discrimination, and forbidden love. Will she be able to bring a government to its knees in order to have the one person who matters most to her?
the people around her. As bad becomes worse, she is arrested for arson and a murder she didn’t commit. She is taken to a mental hospital, where she discovers nothing is as it seems and her destiny awaits her. Zoe quickly becomes caught in a web of strange abilities, politics, murder, discrimination, and forbidden love. Will she be able to bring a government to its knees in order to have the one person who matters most to her?

Zoe Masterson sat on a merry-go-round in the Tanner Elementary School yard. A slight breeze gently blew her hair, and she used her feet to push herself around as her mind flashed to recent events.

Hearing brutal fights coming from the Conrad house were the norm to Zoe. Their last fight wasn’t held behind closed doors. The Fourth of July should be a happy, festive holiday, but Judy Conrad made the mistake of telling her husband she wanted to stay when he told her they were leaving the town party. That day, Zoe had watched in horror at the violence the man displayed, hoping this would be her last encounter with the Conrad’s, but in a town of three hundred people it was impossible. That Fourth of July the entire town witnessed Mrs. Conrad’s head slam into a paper plate full of food.
P
artygoers were sprayed with bits of coleslaw and hot dog toppings. As her head came up, catsup and other bits of food dripped down her face. She glared at her husband. The look said she would love nothing more than to return the favor.

Tonight played out differently. Zoe threw on a hoodie to protect herself against the chill, left her apartment to get a pop at the Town Mart. Walking along the road she could hear the screams from inside the Conrad house.
Nobody in the neighborhood wants to get involved, but somebody should,
she thought as she passed by.

Zoe stopped in the middle of the road and watched the house. A desire to help the poor woman burned inside her.
That would only guarantee trouble for me,
Zoe thought again then stuffed her hands in the front pocket of the hoodie. As soon as the house burst into flames she ran. It went up so fast it was like the sun had descended from the sky.

Residents of Tanner had a long history of blaming Zoe for anything that went wrong. She knew it wouldn’t take long for all the fingers in town to point to her as an arsonist. They didn’t like her, and she loathed them. Zoe spun the merry-go-round slowly. Her mind filled with tortured cries as Andrew Conrad burned. “I didn’t start the fire. I just walked by the Conrad house. So much for minding my own business,” she muttered to herself, looking up to the cloudy black sky. “I should’ve just stayed home. Wonder how long it’ll take the sheriff to find me?” It was true, she didn’t like Mr. Conrad, but that didn’t mean she torched the place.

Her feet continued pushing the wheel around. As she passed by the wooded area that lined the playground, three men in black suits were walking slowly toward her. They approached like she was a danger to them, not the other way around. Not waiting to see who they were, she sprang to her feet and ran as fast as she could. Footsteps echoed behind her as the footfalls splattered in puddles left from the rain earlier in the day. Running was not Zoe’s forte, and her pursuers were gaining on her. This wasn’t what she expected at all. She knew the local sheriff would be looking for her, but these men looked like federal agents. Fear seized her mind as she struggled to keep her footing.

She heard a loud snap, followed by a groan, and turned to see what happened. One of the men dodged as a large branch from an oak tree plummeted to the ground, hitting his arm. Zoe’s toes caught on a tree root, and she tumbled forward, rolling down a slight embankment. A hand scraped across her arm as one of the men failed to hold onto her.

Zoe forced her feet back to the ground, propelling her body forward. Taking a detour through the outbuildings of the school, she hoped to lose the men. She rounded the main building and took off for the open field. Glancing once to see if the men were far behind her, she smiled—no one was in sight. Zoe kept running with hope of escape. She pushed forward across a small bridge as fast as she could, but the notion of outrunning her pursuers vanished when one of the men hit her back full force. The air in her lungs came out in one gush. He wrapped his legs around her as they both fell to the ground, muddy water splashed all around them. The man slapped her in handcuffs and yanked her off the ground. As he pulled her to her feet, his long, blond hair came loose of his ponytail.

Thick mud dripped from the front of Zoe, and her long, black hair fell in a tangled, lumpy mess around her face. Unable to wipe the mud away she shook it off, mud flying in every direction. The men ducked to avoid the shower, but they couldn’t keep from being splattered. The blond man who captured her tightly gripped her cuffed wrists and pulled her in the direction he wanted to walk. Zoe cried out as pain shot through her wrists. The dark haired pursuer decked the man who had jerked her up then pushed him to the ground.

“I’ll take her from here, Helsen,” he snarled.

As they led her to the car it seemed as if the entire town gathered to see the spectacle. Whispers spread as she walked by. Zoe held her head high, ignoring them, determined they would not get to her.

Judy Conrad pointed at Zoe and cried out, “She killed my husband!”

The man holding her wrists opened the door to a black sedan, which reaffirmed her fear that they were indeed federal agents. As he took her head to nudge her inside, she looked up at him. He was in his mid-twenties with perfect, disheveled, but styled, black hair that blended into his suit. She pushed against him with all the strength in her legs, knowing it would do no good. He outweighed her by at least seventy pounds. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome simply picked her up and slid her inside, occupying the back seat with her. As the other two men climbed in the front the one with the pony tail said, “This job has been a joke.” He slammed the passenger door so hard it rocked the car.

Now that she could get a good look at them she realized every part of their attire was black, right down to their ties. All three looked young and fit. She wondered if any of the men sported tighty whities and chuckled at the thought, which caused the man sitting beside her turn his head and stare. It didn’t seem to be in an authoritative manner; he rolled his lips in, as though he held back a laugh. Her giggle made the blond in the front glare at her. If she had the use of her hands, she would have given him the finger, but under the circumstances, she stuck her tongue out. She knew it reeked with immaturity, but it’s all she had. The driver never said a word. He concentrated on his driving, his red hair glowing as they passed street lights.

Growing up, Zoe had to learn to be a fighter; otherwise, she would have been pulverized many times. She wouldn’t stand by and allow someone to get the best of her. Life had proven difficult, and she decided to be strong no matter what the circumstances. Uncertainty and fear filled her mind, but she would never show it. As far as the guys in black were concerned, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Thirty minutes later they arrived at Weston State Hospital, Zoe’s insides knotted. Spending the rest of her life in an insane asylum was not something she had anticipated. Her parents’ neighbor was schizophrenic and scared the crap out of her. Most of the time the woman looked right through her; other times she looked as though nothing would bring her more
pleasure than killing someone. Her eyes were always dilated and darting from side to side wildly. She reminded Zoe of someone who was possessed by the devil. Nothing good ever came from an insane person, and in Zoe’s opinion, nothing ever would.

The car finally stopped at a giant iron gate. A man came out from a little shack and looked in the car then gave a quick nod and opened the gate.