Beautifully Broken (20 page)

“Why would she do that?” Ariana came to stand by my side. “She wasn’t suicidal!”

I wondered the same thing. Why had she gone back upstairs? Had she seen something so terrifying that she’d jumped? Jada seemed scared by our supernatural attack, but she’d wanted to get the heck out of the house to save herself, not get herself killed.

In the distance was the wail of an ambulance, the sound coming closer every second until the van came to a screeching halt next to us. Paramedics dashed to Jada, but pronounced her dead within minutes of their arrival. We watched them load her body into the back of the ambulance. I couldn’t move. My feet planted into the earth. My thoughts a jumble. My senses shut down. They closed the doors to the van as it sat idling, its red flashers spinning in the driveway.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Ariana’s frown puckered both her brow and her lips. Her face was bleached of color. She hugged me, tears trickling down her cheeks. “She’s dead…what are we gonna do, Shi?”

 
“Try to stay calm. Evil thrives on fear.” Frightened, unable to breathe, I hugged Ariana hard then let her go. I took her arm, steering her away from the workmen.

Evans followed us into the front yard. “
Shhh,
don’t say anything else right now, Shiloh. Relax.”

“Don’t shush me! And don’t tell me to relax!” I helped Ariana onto the steps. She sagged against the porch rail, her face in her hands, weeping. “Should we call Trent or his dad? Tell’em about the latest death toll?”

 
“Yes, I’ll call Maxwell,” Evans said. “While I do that, please get the men back to work. No need to have them standing around.”

“No prob.” I glanced at Ariana. “Be back in a minute.” Once I had everyone cleared out and doing their various jobs, I found Evans in the kitchen on the phone with the police.

“We’ve had another accident…uh-huh. Yes…thank you.” He hung up his cell.

 
“Really? An accident? Because I
don’t
think so.”

His expression was grim. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this until we know more.”

“What? You’re joking, right?” I placed my hands on my hips.

“Please lower your voice. Getting agitated isn’t going to help things.”

“What
will
help then? Esael is always one step ahead of us and we still don’t have any idea how to stop him! Who the hell
are
you?” I knew I was being disrespectful, but this was my second friend to die at Ravenhurst in a month. I was beyond agitated. Beyond frustrated.

“
Stop shouting
. I’m your mentor and your friend. And while that doesn’t seem to mean anything to you
at the moment
, it means a great deal to me.” He moved
past me and shut the backdoor. “While
your friend’s death is
dreadful, w
e
don’t
exactly
know what happened yet. It may not be of supernatural origin.”

“
Please
.” I threw him an angry stare. “It is. And you’re supposed to be some kind of expert.” I looked at the floor and centered myself. Taking my frustration out on him wouldn’t help the situation. My tone softened, quivered. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out. But c’mon, help me out. You understand more about this stuff than me. What should we do?”

“Let me look into all the facts first. What was she doing here anyway?”

I chewed my lip.
No way am I telling him how we stupidly used an Ouija Board in Ravenhurst.

“Nothing. We were just hanging out.”

His brows puckered. “No more friends here, do you understand? Ravenhurst is obviously precarious.” His tone was gruff and angry. “And Shiloh, need I remind you that this is
not
something we can discuss openly in front of others.”

A thunderous vibration rattled the mansion. An eruption of breaking glass and crunching metal. Then silence.

I sprinted through the house to the front and flung open the door. Ariana stood clutching the porch rail. What I saw made me suck in air. The ambulance had crashed near the end of the driveway into…nothing.
 

Shock from the accident gave way to paralyzing fear. The ambulance was flipped on its side and the windshield had exploded, showering the insides with fatal shards of glass. The two front wheels still spinning. Metal grunted like the final howl of a wounded beast. Through what was left of the windshield, a man sagged over the hood. One blood-soaked arm dangled limply. His head was rotated to one side, his mouth open. Eyes wide, unseeing. Everything in my brain shut down for a time. Ariana grabbed my hand. Her body trembled and her hand shook in mine.

P
utrid vapors
of smoke and gasoline hung in the air. The ambulance was filled with dark fumes. We drew closer, and the smoke burned my throat and made my eyes water. Workmen raced to the wreckage. No one said anything. Just stared, mouths open. Each person gaped in confusion. No one moved for a minute until the engine caught fire; flickers of orange and black flames leaped from between the twisted steel. The heat became unbearable.

 
Evans strode across the yard, pausing to take in the scene. Everyone else sprang into action, shouting and hollering orders. Chaos erupted. Licking flames filled the skyline. The foreman, Judd appeared carrying a fire extinguisher. He aimed the nozzle at the flames, dousing them with the snow-white foam.

I let go of Ariana and edged closer, covering my mouth and nose with one hand, coughing violently. Sparks vomited from the engine, burning the grass. Men rushed about, working together to pull the paramedics from the wreckage and lay them on the grass. They laid the paramedics on the grass. The passenger was dead. Workmen opened the backdoors and searched inside the vehicle. Jada’s body had disappeared.

 
The driver, scrawny and tall, moaned. He lifted his head and stared into my eyes.

“Something black,” he rasped. “It covered the road.” I squatted beside him and took his hand. Soot, shards of glass, and blood dirtied his face. “A dark shadow leapt in front of the van,” he said in a hoarse voice. “It happened so fast. Appeared out of nowhere…I saw its eyes.
Yellow—inhuman eyes
.” His head dropped to the side, his body went stiff. I let go of his hand, tears sliding from my eyes.

I stood and examined the accident. No signs of what caused the crash. No skid marks or indications of a collision. What caused the ambulance to roll over? Nothing near the van except the oaks swaying in the breeze. No tree branches were littering the driveway or anything else obstructing the road.

Another ambulance raced down the driveway, followed by the coroner, a tow truck and a police car. The vehicles parked at crazy angles. Sheriff Boyd, a tall African-American clad in a dark blue uniform with big black boots, emerged from his patrol car. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door. His dark brown eyes were sharp and assessing. His bulbous nose dominated his meaty features and his ebony hair was styled in a
flattop
. The epitome of law enforcement. Of safety. Only his daughter had disappeared just as the others had. Not even a cop could stop a supernatural entity. I narrowed my eyes. Watched him a second longer. Hmm, did he know his wife belonged to a coven gone bad?

One of the paramedics approached him, and they spoke together in hushed voices. Sheriff Boyd nodded several times. When their conversation ended, he nodded in my direction.

After two hours, Ariana drove home and Sheriff Boyd cleared the scene. The police were baffled by the accident and didn’t have any clues on the whereabouts of Jada’s corpse.

Of course, I knew where she was. Rotting somewhere inside Ravenhurst. Her body anyway. Her soul would’ve been sucked out by now.

 
“Is it cool if I go home?” I asked Evans.

“Yes, of course,” he replied. “I’ll inform Maxwell of the…the unfortunate mishap.”

As I drove down the driveway, a soft drizzle splattered the windshield. Like the tears stinging my eyes. Because I was no closer to figuring out who was next on the supernatural hit list…

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Friday, on the way to the memorial service, I picked up Ariana, and if her red eyes were any indication, she’d been crying all night too. Her curly hair was pulled into a ponytail and she had on minimal makeup. Her dress was similar to mine except it had shorter sleeves. Earlier, I’d called Evans and told him I would be to work by noon. Then I had taken a shower and pulled on a knee-length black dress with ballet flats. I hoped it was acceptable attire for Jada’s wake.

“How are you holding up?” Ariana plopped onto the passenger seat.

“Not too good. This whole thing’s friggin’ bizarre.”

 
I slipped my right arm around her shoulders. “Well, the nefarious plot thickens.” I shifted into gear and moved forward, merging with the traffic toward Harrison Street.

“How?”

“I suspect there’s a supernatural hit list on the kids in Whispering Pines. I don’t know everything yet, but I’m gonna find a way to stop it.”

Yeah how? I’ve been a witch for—what? Well…technically, my entire life, but
actually
, only a few months. I’m still learning spells and magick. And I have no idea what I’m doing.

“Why do you think it’s supernatural?”

I glanced at her. “It’s a feeling. My spidey senses are tingling. Big time…”

The church parking lot was crammed. Congested. Half the community had come to the service. I parked in the back row and turned off the engine. I could sit there and pretend like I knew nothing. Act as if nothing had changed. Or I could tell my best friend the truth.

I took a deep breath and blurted, “Ari, there’s something I need to tell you…I’m a heritage witch. There’s a demon stalking me, and I’ve been communicating with Trent’s dead mother. Oh! And shades—paranormal shapeshifters—have been menacing me for years.” I heard myself utter the words, not sure if I should be proud of myself or shocked at the courage I had to finally say the things I’d held in silence for so long.

“Are you serious?” Ariana turned in her seat to face me.

I watched the cars as they came into the parking lot. I knew we should get out and greet Jada’s family, but instead I kept sitting in the car, with both hands firmly on the steering wheel. Knuckles turning white. Gut churning. “Uh… I guess my family has powers like on that TV show Charmed. I’m studying Wicca. Truthfully, I’m still figuring it out. But I do have mad skills.” I rushed on, my words tripping over my tongue. “I’ve been training with Evans—he’s like, super knowledgeable about the paranormal. And my aunt gave me a bunch of journals written by my ancestors. They’re actually grimoires, with spells and rituals.”

Ari turned back around and stared out the windshield. Her face was blank. She did not respond. Instead, she sat unmoving, not one muscle, not even a tremor, though her aura burned brightly. Either she didn’t know what to say or was stunned speechless by my confession.

 
I lightly touched her arm. “Ari?”

She slowly faced me. Tears leaked from her eyes. “I knew it. People have been saying your mother’s family is different for years. My aunt is scared to death of Jillian. She told me she’s a powerful dark witch. But when she said it, she whispered and looked around like she was afraid. That freaked me out. I never said anything because you’re my best friend and I didn’t care.”

Well this confirms it. Jillian’s a dark witch. Actually, that explains a lot.

Ariana became quiet. I held my own silence. We sat for a minute, and I chipped at my nail polish. “Did I mention I have mad skills?” I said softly, trying to lighten the sullen mood.

“Mad,” she agreed. “And who wants to be normal anyway? Normal is boring.”

“Yeah. Anyone can be an average teenager—but I’m a teen with
super
powers.”

Now I won’t be the bizarre quirky girl who can quote
Charmed.

 
“Could you have saved Jada?”

Wow. Good question. I hesitated, then my eyes met hers and I said quietly, “No, I don’t think so. But I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Sometimes I think I’m losing it…but someone has to figure out why the evil is targeting kids.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Just believe in me.”

“Always have.” She undid her seatbelt and hugged me. Hard. Relief flooded me.

Despite the gloomy tone of our conversation, I found it impossible not to return her smile. “I know. But you can’t tell people, Ari,” I whispered. “The founding members of this community ran away from the persecution of witches in Europe. Stories regarding witchcraft won’t be good. Especially with all this death.”

“Sure. Like wow. My brain is on overload. So what can you do?”

 
“It was hard for me to swallow initially too, but I’m accepting now. I have
sight
”
—I made hand quotes in the air— “and I can do spells, and I’m telekinetic.”
I looked into her eyes. I’d always believed eyes were like windows, revealing the truth or the lies.
“
Can I ask you something?”

Her clear blue gaze penetrated mine—steady. Curious. “Uh-huh.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Not until we played around with the Ouija board.”

“I read that some souls can be earthbound, lingering in the place where they lived.” In a nervous rush, I added, “Evans says that for whatever reason their souls are not at peace. Maybe they have unfinished business. Maybe Trent’s mother has unfinished business. And there’s more…I’ve been hearing…voices.”

“What kind of voices?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it. The paranormal shapeshifters whisper to me.”

She stared at me, licking her glossed lips. “That doesn’t sound good. Have you told anyone about this? Your parents?”

“What? Are you nuts? No way!”

She nudged my shoulder with her own. “You’re the one who’s wacky…and sleep deprived.”

She doesn’t believe me. And why should she?
Now I wish I hadn’t said anything to her. Giggles burst from my mouth.
I do sound crazy.

“Maybe you should quit your job,” she said softly.

“I can’t…besides, I’m no quitter.”

 
“I know you’re not.” Her eyes, deeper and fiercer than I’d ever seen them, flared at me. They drank in the bitterness I assumed only I could see. “Then be careful.”

My mouth that’s forever blurting stuff out was quiet. Unable to speak additional words once they tumbled into a deep, dark ravine of silence. I managed to mutter, “I will be. Don’t worry.”

Stress was eating at me every second of the day. I was unsure of how to cope with the horrible effects and make them go away. I wanted my life to be normal. The kind of life where girls think about manicures and getting into good colleges and boyfriends. My heart tugged. I hadn’t seen Trent in like, forever. “I wonder if Trent will be here,” I said.

“Almost forgot about pretty boy. How is he? Have you guys,
you know
?” Ariana waggled her brows.

“No! Get your mind outta the gutter.” I laughed and shoved her shoulder. “I’m sure he
wants
to, but I’m not ready—it’s too soon. He wants to take it slow, but it’s hard. Even with the good smooches.”

 
“Good smooches? Yeah, they can make a girl’s head swim.”

 
“He’s sweet and protective and wait…why doesn’t he want me? Why
can
he wait? Oh God! What if he doesn’t
really
want me?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Um, I think you’re missing the point—”

“Am I icky? If there was an ick-factor about me you’d tell me, right?”

“No prob. I’d call you icky in a second.” She grinned. A real smile. “Chill, girl. I’m sure he can’t wait to jump your bones.”

 
“Good, ‘cause it’s like…like the lights dim everywhere else. Like he’s the sun to my moon.”

“You mean moody?”

I laughed. “So
not
what I meant. Ari, I’m in love! This is huge.”

She rolled her eyes.

 
“Did I mention the good smooches and the sexy?”

 
“Couldn’t believe it the first twenty times you told me, but it’s starting to sink in.”

 
“Sorry. Am I being repeat-o-girl? Did I tell you, we talk—
really
talk—how hot is that?”

 Ariana stared at me, unusually solemn. “Hot. He’s sensitive, yet manly.” Ariana looked at her spangled blue painted nails. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead stayed silent.

“Ari, it’s so bizarre. He’s in my gut—my heart. I’m drowning in him. And when we’re not together, it hurts.” I covered my heart with one hand. “And I’m not sure he likes me as much as I like him.”

“Why would you say that?”

My bottom lip protruded. “I don’t know. Just a feeling. You think he doesn’t really like me?”

Oh, wow, I’m acting like a total whiner. Sniveling about a stupid boy just before my friend’s funeral.
Not cool, Shiloh.

“No. That’s not what I’m saying.” Ariana stared into my troubled brown eyes. “Stop stressing so much. I’m sure he likes you a bunch.” She shook her head. “Oh! There’s Brandon Rouke. He needs to ask me out already.” She hopped out of the Jeep and slammed the door. “Let’s go…”

I guided us through the crowded church, where we found seats in the non-family section. Around us, people were crying, sniffing, and speaking in low voices. On the platform next to pulpit were dozens of flower arrangements and a huge funeral wreath decorated in roses and white carnations. It had a big white ribbon across it with gold lettering that said
In Memory of Jada Jones
. I figured it was from Trent’s family. I scanned the mourners, but didn’t spot Trent. Doubtful he’d be welcome anyway. From the murmurs around us, people were pissed about the reconstruction, and Jada’s death had reinforced their prejudices. I overheard mutterings about an old witch’s curse, which seemed to put everyone on edge.

For the next hour, we listened to Jada’s family take turns saying how wonderful and smart she had been. How Jada loved life and how she would have wanted us to move on. Ariana’s eyes watered. My vision blurred with tears.

Then Jada’s mother Donna looked directly into my eyes. “We need to halt the construction on Ravenhurst. It is stirring things up again. We need to call a town meeting to stop it. We need to take a stand—”

“Are you crazy? Maxwell Donovan provides most of our jobs in this community!” someone yelled from the back of the room.

Sheriff Boyd stood up. “Clam down. We are looking into this, folks. We’ll find the psycho that is kidnapping the local teenagers and—”

“There’s no psycho!” Mr. Hart stood up and faced the crowd. “Let’s face it folks. We’ve been lying to ourselves for long enough! These are
mystical
disappearances. We can no longer be afraid to voice the truth!
It’s the curse!”

The room burst into murmurs and arguments. Pastor Williams attempted to appease the assembly and remind people they were in God’s house. Everyone settled down and the ceremony continued.

When it was over, Ariana and I made our way slowly out the doors, caught up in the steady stream of mourners. When we got into the Jeep, Ariana slumped in her seat and sighed. “Do you think more kids are in danger?”

“Yes. They’re being picked off one at a time by a supernatural entity. Mr. Hart was right. This town is cursed. For whatever reason, I’m guessing some of the founding families are trying to cover up the truth.”

“What should we do?”

“I have no idea. I’m working with Evans on a solution.”

Her smile was slight. “Shiloh?”

“Yeah—what’s with the face?”

Ariana’s brow furrowed. “Do you think people are gonna do anything about Ravenhurst? I mean it’s owned by
Maxwell Donovan
. Donovan Enterprises owns half the town. Employs hundreds of workers at his hotel.”

“How can they? The founding families reign over Whispering Pines. Sheriff Boyd was cited in the local newspaper yesterday, pronouncing his opinion that the disappearances and deaths were done by an unknown murderer.”

“Or at least that what the founding families claim,” Ariana said. “I guess they’re too scared to actually do anything about it…but they must know the truth.”

“They do. Those thirteen women are
all
descendants of the founding families of Whispering Pines. They formed this secret society called the
Blood Rose Circle
. It has thirteen members, each representing the thirteen original families. On the outside, it appears to be a public organization dedicated to preserving local history, but really,” I paused, thinking of Jillian, “they’re a coven. Witches.”

“That’s interesting. And, um, freaky.” Ariana toyed with the gearshift, avoiding my eyes.

“Yeah. Whispering Pines has a long history of supernatural occurrences. According to Evans, more people have vanished from Whispering Pines than any other area in California.”

We were both quiet a moment, then I spoke again, my voice low, ominous.
“I did overhear my dad say once that they should burn Ravenhurst down. But with a place like that it wouldn’t do any good. It sits on a spot of unimaginable power. Did you ever hear the saying that disrespecting an Indian burial ground leads to a curse?” Ari gave me half-hearted shrug, so I continued, “Curses sustain on negative energy. One of the problems is that as the curse feeds off malevolence it creates a vicious cycle, continuously replenishing the area with power.”

My gaze went to the woods beyond the city limits. It looked like dusk. Whispering Pines was a dark place, even with the sun shining. Like living in the aftermath of an enteral atomic twilight.

I had a lot to ponder. Maybe a spell would give me some answers on how I could conquer the evil forces before it claimed another life.

But what was I willing to sacrifice to save the other teens? My own soul?

My phone vibrated in my purse and I pulled it out. Trent texted: How was the memorial?

I texted back: Sad. Everyone crying.

We still on for 4 tomorrow nite?

Of course.