Beautifully Broken Read Online Free PDF Page B

raised me. She could not be my mother.
    Since my muddled suicide attempt—when I’d almost died—I could see auras. Echoes of souls, which revealed a person or demon’s true nature, bound in colors that held meanings.
    Dizziness assaulted me. “Mom,” I whispered.
    She said nothing. Just remained quiet and pensive, oddly grim. An azure mist of ancient magick swarmed her body, her eyes blackening like pieces of coal. Shocked, I shrank against the car door. I knew she was a witch— duh —I’d read all the grimoires, those archaic books of magick, my aunt Lauren had given me, so I knew Jillian had inherited power too, but she wouldn’t talk about it. Ever.
      “Jillian?” My voice squeaked. “You can’t stop in the middle of the street.”
    The moment passed and she blinked, appearing normal and lovely once more. The azure cloud dissolved. Her gaze, thick with darkness, became soft brown, like an old forest in the rain.
    Did I imagine the change in her face, in her eyes? Now that I gave it more thought, Jillian’s aura had been covered in chartreuse swirling colors, more so than ever before. What did it mean?
      “Fine.” She shifted the sedan into drive, and we shot forward.
    The churning panic faded once we turned the corner; however, my confusing emotions increased, reminding me of what had happened before we’d left for church. And reminded me of the fact that I needed more protection. Paranormals didn’t usually enter my house, mostly because I practiced several Native American customs my grandmother had taught me, like burning sage and using a turtle shell rattle to ward off evil spirits. Of course, I’d felt silly at first, but hell, I’d try anything once. I’d gone from room to room, reciting an incantation of protection, calling on the four elements—Wind, Earth, Fire, and Water—to keep evil from invading my home.
    Apparently, my self-protection plan wasn’t working so great. Shadows had found a way to crack those psychic defenses. Hellish little shapeshifters. Shadow Man (Soul Eater?) was fierce, deadly, and dangerous. Together those evil entities would be unstoppable. Obviously, my life was in serious danger.
    I needed something stronger than sunlight, sage, and turtle rattles to protect me.

     

CHAPTER FOUR

     

     

     
    Jillian turned on Mayflower Avenue and guided the car toward home. I stared out the dirty windshield at a fog so thick it kept our town in isolation, obscured from the real world outside of Whispering Pines. Like Gotham City, a perpetual dark place filled with evil. We passed a cemetery, and the cries of tormented souls softly hissed through the curling mist. Even though we were considered a small town, the area had five cemeteries. The graveyards were so heavily used that funerals were sometimes held at night. Hunching my shoulders, I slumped in my seat. Times like this, I desperately needed somebody to confide in. Someone to hold my hand and tell me everything would be fine. I peeked at Jillian, tempted to force her to talk to me.
    Give it up. Not gonna happen, Shiloh.

    Sometimes I wondered what would happen if I told someone about the scary things I saw. Mentioned I was afraid of the dark. Well, with good reason. Still…
    My fingers traced the jagged red scar on my arm, trying to understand what my gut was telling me. Not sure if it was shouting to keep my secrets intact or let them have a voice. On the upside, spilling my secrets might help me accept that I was different. Okay, weird. I could stop sleeping with a light on. I’d take risks and stop stressing over shadows. Go out on a regular date—at night—with a boy.
    But I don’t think I know how to be normal anymore.

    Besides, who would believe me? I’d been safeguarding my secrets forever, and I didn’t know how to live another way. I wanted to be more like Jillian. She wasn’t afraid of anything.
    Jillian turned on the radio, switching stations until she found an old country song. We drove home