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Shadow Eyes
Dusty Crabtree
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An imprint of
Musa Publishing
Copyright Information
Shadow Eyes, Copyright © Dusty Crabtree, 2012
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Musa Publishing
633 Edgewood Ave
Lancaster, OH 43130
www.musapublishing.com
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Published by Musa Publishing, February, 2012
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This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
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ISBN: 978-1-61937-116-3
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Editor: Meredith MacLeod
Cover Design: Kelly Shorten
Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Prologue
“WHY DO YOU INSIST on fighting a war you can’t win?” Gregory stated firmly but calmly. Blinding, beautiful light radiated from his skin and clothes, flooding down to his ancient enemy Lucas but ricocheting off some invisible barrier surrounding him.
Lucas was hovering a few hundred feet out from Gregory at a slightly lower elevation. A chasm of darkness separated them, but Gregory’s voice carried and echoed as if they were face-to-face. “You’ve already done enough damage, and it’s not going to make a difference for your fate. Give it up.” He waited for Lucas to reply, expecting a mocking laugh or an outburst of anger and hatred. But silence pierced his ears.
Lucas’s robes flowed gracefully yet powerfully about him, half covering his downcast face for a moment. His robes were jet black with an alluring richness and gleam and were as paper-thin as a silk sheet. Their mystic, fluttering motion seemed to consume space itself like a magnetic kaleidoscope as they rose and fell around his dark form…which was now trembling with resentment, scorn and rage.
Suddenly, the trembling stopped. His head rose slowly as his robes fell to the ground, halting their deranged, mysterious dance as if the wind circulating through them was abruptly switched off. A confident sneer gradually distorted his dark face but looked somewhat contrived as though he were forcing himself to believe it.
“I may not win the war,” he declared through clenched teeth. “But this battle belongs to me.” He leapt from the cold, wavering darkness on which he was perched and plummeted down into the shadows.
Chapter 1
I STOOD MOTIONLESS in the nearly empty hallway, staring at the silver doorknob in front of me as if it were my enemy. On the outside, I probably looked like a sullen child who hated junior English. Inside, I was desperately trying to find the nerve to extend my arm, grab the metal object, and twist.
I managed to execute the first two steps without dying and was about to complete the third, but a dark fluttering caught my eye to my left. The murky fog wavered and sloshed around the corner after a girl in a pink top and exceptionally short black skirt.
“Not helping,” I muttered under my breath. Frustrated, I returned my attention to my hand whose knuckles had turned white from gripping too firmly. I sighed and gave the doorknob a twist.
“Hey, birthday girl!” Lexi yelled as the bell blared through the speakers. Her enthusiastic greeting seemed to merge with the high-pitched tone and reverberated around the entire room.
I ducked my head, hurried past the front of the classroom, and hoped nobody heard her. On my way, I flashed her a big-eyed, stern look with an implied “Shh!”
I’d hated my birthday since I was fourteen, three years ago. I certainly didn’t need any added attention or stares to make me more on edge or paranoid. Luckily, no one noticed.
I sidestepped down the aisle to my desk with a heavy frown that failed to discourage her and settled into my seat. After a few moments of blatant avoidance on my part just for good measure, I reluctantly turned to face her. I was met with a wide-eyed, expectant grin. Her energetic spirit refused to be quenched.
“So are you ready for the big party tomorrow? Nicole’s going all out, you know.”
Despite my anxious mood, I laughed at my friend’s unwarranted excitement. The so-called “big party” for my birthday tomorrow night would only consist of the three of us. “Um…sure.” Truthfully, I was dreading it.
She looked me up and down skeptically and sighed. “Iris, please tell me you’ll be dressing up. At least a little bit.” My long-sleeved graphic tee, jeans, and flats were obviously not up to her cute, girly standards.
I laughed. “Not everyone feels the need to dress like a doll, Lexi.”
Her face scrunched in mock indignation. Nevertheless, any excuse she could possibly produce was no match for her unmistakably girly appearance. A white satin ribbon and elastic band secured her thick, curly, dark-red hair into a neat ponytail, and the sheer, flowery blouse she wore over a dainty camisole fell gracefully over her curves. She really was pretty in her girlish, soft-spoken way, even though she always complained about being slightly heavier than Nicole and me.
She gave up the act after a few seconds. “Okay, fine. Maybe I do dress like a doll. I guess there are worse things you could accuse me of.”
Chuckling softly, I began to rummage through my bag, attempting to push aside my personal anxiety. I just had to try not to focus on the cause. Hopefully, there’d be no more birthday talk.
I retrieved my English folder and a pencil and scanned the room. Our teacher was nowhere to be found, and the bell had rung two minutes ago. After a few seconds of confused searching, I remembered Mrs. Thomas telling us she was moving because of her husband’s sudden promotion. Our new English teacher was supposed to start today. Evidently, she was having a difficult time finding the classroom.
I started to ask Lexi if she knew anything about our new teacher or her whereabouts but was cut short when a tall, blond, very attractive man in his thirties strolled in. He was wearing a gray, three-piece suit complete with tie. Compared to the majority of teachers who regularly wore jeans, athletic pants, and anything that barely passed as non-sleepwear, he stood out like a sleek Mercedes in the middle of a junkyard. Carrying a briefcase in one hand and a manila folder in the other, he walked with a confident, stately air and a serene look on his face, somehow radiating kindness, power and mystery all from the same stunningly handsome form.
I didn’t even have to hear him speak; he would have no trouble controlling our class. His demeanor simply commanded respect. He had silenced the room with his entrance. Plus, despite the obvious age difference, the girls were already drooling over him, their mouths gaping open in disbelief at the luck of getting such an insanely gorgeous teacher. I agreed with them silently but had enough sense not to hope or dream for anything more than an exquisite view during first hour.
I was drawn to him, however, for another reason I couldn’t quite place. Something seemed oddly familiar and pleasantly comfortable about him, like I’d known him for quite some time already. He had one of those faces that was inviting and friendly, and I uninten
tionally began to stare. Whether to try to figure out if I truly did know him, or whether I was getting lost in his deep blue eyes and flawless, glowing skin, I’m not exactly sure.
Apparently I stared a little too long because as he surveyed the room, his eyes caught mine and his mouth formed into a warm, cheerful smile. My cheeks flushed, and I dropped my eyes to my desk.
Returning his attention to the entire class, he finally spoke. “Good morning, everyone. My name is Mr. Delaney, and I’ll be taking over for the rest of the year for Mrs. Thomas.” He moved about the room, looking each student in the eyes with interest and concern as he passed as though he honestly cared to know more about them and wanted to make each one feel welcome.
“I’m sure we’ll have a fine year together and learn a lot from each other. Everyone has something special to offer the world, and I’m excited to have the opportunity to discover what that is in each of you.”
He stopped at my desk and gazed right at me as if to imply that whatever special gift I had lurking inside me was extra-valuable. He was right about one thing. I did have a special gift. Was it valuable? Not to me. In fact, I’d do anything to get rid of it.
He meandered back to the front of the classroom, and as he did, his intriguing scent wafted past me, enveloping my head in a pleasant cloud. A sunny, ultra fresh scent so delightful and calming I wished I could bottle it up and use it as air freshener.
At the podium again he continued to address the class. “Mrs. Thomas already had some lesson plans in place for when I arrived, so we’re just going to continue where she left off. I believe you were about to start reading The Scarlet Letter?” Several students nodded, and Mr. Delaney reviewed some notes in his manila folder. “Okay, then let’s go ahead and turn to page seven in your books, shall we?”
Normally I would have expected whines or even outright complaints at the prospect of having to read a tediously long, crusty old novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne. But with Mr. Delaney’s charm and contagious optimism, the only sound in the classroom was the eager flipping of pages.
Nevertheless, while he glanced at what appeared to be a seating chart on the podium and some more notes, I silently hoped Mrs. Thomas hadn’t left any comments about who she normally called on to read. Just because I was the sort of student that made straight A’s and loved to read on my own didn’t mean I enjoyed reading out loud in front of an entire class. Using sarcasm or occasionally tossing out witty remarks I could handle, but reading out loud in class was different. Add to that being the first one to break the silence in our suddenly altered classroom environment, and there was no way I wanted to read.
“Lexi Hamilton, would you begin reading for us on page seven?”
Lexi and I gave each other a quick glance, one of anxiety from her and pity from me. Bravely, she took a deep breath and began.
After Lexi had been reading for a few minutes, Mr. Delaney went to his desk to mark absences. The class somehow started to feel normal again, so I tried to focus on what Lexi was reading. After all, we would probably be tested on it. But I kept finding myself getting carried away with adding my own private imagery. Lexi had reached the part where Hester was on the platform for public humiliation while everyone in the town stood around harassing her for committing adultery. I couldn’t help but imagine the crowd with their hateful faces, viciously tormenting her, unaware of the heavy, black storm whirling around and above them. I envisioned a mob of angry people with hostility in their hearts, but I also pictured the stimulus for such behavior that others wouldn’t see—a swarm of cruel shadows surrounding the unsuspecting and invading the susceptible.
I could also picture Hester standing up there, appearing strong and unaffected by their torturous slander. There must have been more going on underneath her brave facade. How could she not be filled with shame and fear having her secret exposed so scandalously? I could even picture the black shadow that was starting to form over her head, fluttering about her, whispering in her ear. But this was not a shadow of hatred and cruelty. This shadow was much more subtle and shrewd. Its intentions were to tear her down from the inside out. My imagination was so vivid that I could almost feel the cold darkness seep through my own skin and permeate my innermost thoughts.
I got so lost in my mental horror movie that time seemed to speed up, dash around my preoccupied mind, and pass me. I hadn’t even noticed Lexi had stopped reading when the bell sounded, and I was abruptly brought back to reality as if someone had accidentally switched off the movie reel and left me staring at a blank screen. I was left just as empty.
I’d been cursed with seeing the shadows and bright figures ever since my fourteenth birthday. I never liked to talk about what happened that fateful day to bring about the sudden visual awareness, but since then, I’d been forced to view the world as a much darker place than anyone else could possibly imagine. Although the figures of light seemed to be positive influences, there were far too few of them. The vast majority of apparitions I saw were ruthless shadows with a destructive agenda.
I spotted Nicole and Lexi already sitting at our usual table off to the side of the lunchroom, separated from most of the crowd, when I arrived. I generally picked a seat facing the wall so I was at least partially shielded from the unpleasant view of an entire room full of hormonal, sugar-crazed teens and the shadows that always seemed to accompany them. I couldn’t always avoid them, however, when I was stranded in the middle of a lunch line.
The guy in front of me was surrounded by a stormy mass that extended out behind him a good two feet. I tried to act cool and hang back as much as I could without looking like I had an imaginary friend, but its close proximity made my skin crawl.
The boy turned around slightly, and I caught a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes and dopey grin. He must have taken the earlier lunch for his off-campus “appetizer” and now had the munchies. I didn’t approve, but there was no way I was going to say anything to anybody. My paranoia told me the shadow would somehow know it was me and seek revenge.
As if to confirm my fears, the stormy mass over the boy began to fluctuate and move in a deliberate pivoting motion until its obscure face came into focus. It stared straight at me with a poisonous smile, obviously amused by my impotence. In defeat I cringed and shrank back in the line, bumping into the girl behind me. I mumbled an apology and pretended to search my backpack for something until the shadow lost interest and faced forward again.
I had barely sat down beside Lexi and across from Nicole with my dry, grilled chicken sandwich and wilted French fries, when Nicole started bubbling with excitement and questions. “So, Iris, Lexi told me about your hot new English teacher, Mr. Delaney! What’s he like? Is he really that good-looking?” Her excitement promptly changed to fake pouting as she slumped her shoulders and frowned at us. “I’m so jealous I don’t have English class with you!”
“Oh, please,” I said, pausing to shoot an inconspicuous glance at the stoner and his shadow who were now safely across the lunchroom. “Yes, he’s cute, but seriously, he’s like at least thirty-three or thirty-four. Hardly anything to get excited about.” I picked at my French fries, hoping ketchup would mask the soggy texture. It didn’t.
“You’re no fun.” She turned to Lexi to continue her childish gossip. Their giggling and whispers were barely audible over the loud roar of the lunchroom.
I easily zoned them out with my own thoughts on Mr. Delaney, remembering how he’d gazed at me as if he knew me and was trying to imply something about how special I was. Ultimately, I convinced myself I must have seen him somewhere around the city and that him stopping by my desk during his warm-and-fuzzy speech was just a coincidence.
Once Nicole and Lexi had exhausted all possible topics of discussion about Mr. Delaney, Nicole pushed her sad-looking, half-eaten burrito to the side. It was replaced with a long list written on notebook paper in purple ink. “So, about your party tomorrow…what’s your favorite kind of pizza?” She looked up at me from her list expectantly, purple Sharpie in
hand.
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Nicole, honestly, just plan it how you want. I’m not that picky.” I tried to appear convincing, but Nicole and Lexi gave each other a not-so-discreet glance and laughed simultaneously. “Hey, just because I’m kind of a perfectionist and a tad overly organized—”
“Kind of?” Nicole asked.
“A tad?” Lexi added, laughing.
“Okay, fine. Just because I’m a perfectionist and overly organized doesn’t mean I can’t handle someone else planning a party for me.” In truth, I normally wanted to have control in planning things that pertained to me. However, when it came to the celebration of a day I really didn’t care to think about, I was all for avoiding it altogether.
Nicole sighed deeply as she folded up her list. “Fine,” she declared, but it sounded more like a discouraged whine than consent.
Advanced Earth Science. As I read the title of my last class printed neatly on the binder I yanked out of my locker, I had to smirk. It still made me laugh to see the word Advanced apply to such a blow-off class.
I took my seat behind Nicole who glanced at me with feigned disgust before turning her head and lifting her chin slightly.
“Melodramatic much?” I said, laughing at her display. But when her grimace remained stuck to her face, I tried a different tactic. “I trust you, and I know the party will be great.”
That was all she needed. She turned to me, grinning smugly. “Well, since I guess I’m completely in charge, it will definitely be more than great. It will be awesome.”
I smiled as a show of faith and Nicole reached for her compact mirror to check her face and hair. She always cared way too much what people thought about her. She had sleek, almost black hair, cut in a trendy bob, naturally tanned skin, and a minor case of acne that she always thought was the end of the world. She was wearing her usual designer apparel: a stylish top, Hollister jeans, bronze wrap-around sandals, and an assortment of metallic bracelets, which jingled as she applied more unneeded powder. She wasn’t girly and dainty like Lexi, but she definitely made a fashion statement.
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