Page 15 of Broken Shadows

I thought they’d kick them out, so I watched when my parents pulled my friends from my room, their nails sinking into their arms.

Their screams rang through the house that night until I was met with silence. Those kid’s bodies were never found. Missing posters hung from street posts for years until they faded along with the memory of them.

Nausea swirls in my stomach. How had I forgotten that they’d killed them? Perhaps, I never really did. Their deaths are echoed in every death since.

So many had died because of me. I had snuck my friends in. I should have known better. My family despised outsiders, keeping them from the dark secrets we held in our home.

After that, I had been so desperate to be rid of them all that telling the church about my family was far easier than it should have been, so when The Order came and killed everyone and set that fire, I was relieved.

My older brothers cried as they were lost in the flames, and I didn’t try to save them. I could have helped them. I should have, but I was transfixed watching the massacre unfold.

My magic liked it.

I liked it.

I told myself it didn’t matter how I felt as I succumbed to the smoke and waited to die. Except I didn’t. Edward saved me. I must have looked so innocent, this poor, abused child who was alone and had lost everyone she loved. Who would have believed that I had lit the metaphorical match?

I suppose that’s the catch all of evil. That’s why the good fall. Evil often appears to be anything but.

My eyes fling open to Samuel, sweat beading his forehead. “See, witch. It’s always been you.”

My worst fear coils around me, unforgiving and permanent. I am the catalyst of my own demise. I’ve justified every death at my hands. None of it was an accident. My magic was me and if it killed someone, it’s becauseIwanted it to happen.

Every restless and anxious thought bursts out of me in a flurry of shadows, plunging the room into darkness. The last thing I see before my shadows consume us is an unnerving, maniacal grin building on the normally steady lips of Samuel. It’s the first time I’ve seen any light in his eyes. I grit my teeth. The fucking psychopath is getting off on this.

Darkness leaks from my pores, my nose, my ears, my mouth, each one climbing out of me with vigor until I’m cocooned with darkness. I hear a distant scream, probably Edward trying to escape. Didn’t he know what would happen when I finally embraced my magic?

With each breath, I draw in the decay-laced, mildewy air. It fuels the pulses of energy surging through me. Better than any high. Any orgasm. This is pure bliss, a release of raw energy.

The shadows were never my magic’s enemy. They cloaked me from evil people. Even if I didn’t know their intentions at the time, my magic did.

Every person who I killed deserved it. I didn’t know why at the time, but my magic could sense their intentions. Except for Caden. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, triggering something that had been suppressed by his dad—an accident in the truest of senses.

Edward is responsible for that. If he hadn’t tortured and oppressed me, it would have never happened. I had no control at the time, and I’ve spent too long punishing myself when I should have been seeking retribution against the one man who ruined us all.

Now he wants to destroy what good is left in my life: Gomez, Rosa, even Lorcan, who enrages every part of me. But I need him, crave him even, and I’m so mad at him for it. He was always the mirror reflecting the worst parts back to me through rose-tinted glass.

The darkness settles, replaced by a vibration of red-hot magic pulsing from me like heatwaves. My death magic. Samuel’s face appears from the shadowy clouds, exhilarated, while Edward cowers in the corner, holding onto his protection pendant for dear life.

My palms open to the ceiling and shadows dance at my fingertips, curling into spirals, ready to do my bidding.

The restraints at my wrists and ankles sizzle to ash, leaving scorch marks against my skin, but my shadows lick my wounds with a healing meant only for me.

This power is mine, I am it, and with every breath I feel the power of my ancestors slipping into me like a tapestry woven with threads of good and evil. Hell, maybe even the fates, forcing me to confront the buried parts of myself.

I slide my legs off the mattress, twisting my body until I’m facing Samuel. Edward’s pointless prayers whisper into my ears as he begs for the god he abandoned long ago to protect him.

“Now, Witch, it’s time for you to—” Samuel chokes on the rest of his command as my shadows shoot like vipers into his throat.

He grasps at his neck, attempting to sedate the shadows, but I’m stronger than him. Unexpected, certainly, by the look of pure fucking shock on his expression.

I smile, blood trickling down my lips from where I must have bitten my tongue while embracing my powers. Samuel falls to his knees. I tsk and grip his chin between my index finger and thumb. “You’re next, but first.” I turn to Edward, tilting my head as I watch his feeble attempt at escape.

My grin grows until my cheeks twinge as I allow him to reach the door. He thinks he’s so close to freedom, his fear so palpable I can taste it. But my magic reaches the lock before he can get a grasp on the handle.

“No!” he screeches when he can’t get it open, hammering his fists against the wooden frame. “Please, God, no.”

“Your God can’t save you here,” I say sweetly, a charge of hope vibrating in my voice that fills him with dread. The color leeches from his cheeks when he turns to face me, and my shadows coil around his neck, wrists, and torso, dragging him back to me.

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