Marked in Shadow's Keep

by LJ Andrews

  Marked in Shadow’s Keep

  LJ Andrews

  Title © copyright 2017 LJ Andrews

  Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  For more information contact:

  www.ljandrews.com

  contact@ljandrews.com

  Dedicated to all those who believe we can be more. Who try a little harder every day. You’re amazing.

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Author Notes

  Preface

  I never believed in ghosts, or spirits, or anything other than what was before my eyes—though the last few weeks had given me reason enough to believe otherwise. I’d known since I was young I would be different; those prone to superstition would often whisper I was cursed. But until he came into my life, I never imagined they might be right.

  I reached my hand toward the brilliant flame, feeling the weight of what was to happen on my trembling shoulders. Fire had never seemed so pure, so perfect, as it did in the gilded basin. The heat from the flames beckoned me onward. This burden was mine to bear, and mine alone. I was prepared to bring those who had caused such pain in the lives of many to justice. I thought of my father. I would avenge him in this moment whether I survived or was lost.

  My eyes focused without blinking on the silvery flames flickering like mystic phantoms in the dim light. Surely, this was right. So many people would be protected by my sacrifice. The people I loved would be safe.

  If I’d never gone into the forest that day, to the place of my nightmares, I wouldn’t be facing the fire. If I’d simply listened to his warning, none of this would have ever happened.

  Chapter 1

  I carried the heavy box over the threshold. The cardboard was tattered from being folded and unfolded so many times during packing. When it came to storing things, I had quickly learned I was as far from organized as one could get. The move had sacrificed several rolls of packing tape because of constantly opening and re-taping each box.

  The apartment was in the old Shadow’s Keep hotel. The building had once been under a wrecking ball’s eye, but Mayor Vandez had swept in over a year ago, turning the old hotel into fresh modern apartments.

  My new place was a snug studio on the third floor with one wall exposing the brick from the original building. Metal beams crisscrossed above, with a single iron-colored fan spinning lazily in the humid summer. The L-shaped kitchen took up the most space in the apartment, but there was still plenty of room for a full bed and loveseat.

  The studio came with a small table, only large enough for two people, and its own T.V. with a DVD player. My back resigned to the slow ache creeping up my spine as I rested the box on the edge of the unmade bed and switched on the receiver. The screen was just a bouncing bubble of “no signal” ricocheting hypnotically back and forth against the edges of the screen.

  “Okay, a T.V. without T.V.,” I said out loud, checking all the cords to ensure they were properly connected. The corner of the small stock card was sticking out from beneath the DVD player.

  “Cable and internet packages.” I couldn’t help myself, turning the pamphlet over in my hand. “What? On top of what I’m already paying? I think DVDs will be fine, thank you very much.”

  I plopped down on the puffy loveseat, taking in the new space. The windows were tall with iron trimming and cheap plastic blinds. Plain walls with an eggshell finish made the room plain, but it suited my neutral furniture fine. As if they’d naturally avoided the area, my eyes cautiously drifted toward the extra-wide vent in the corner of the room. Although the heating and air had been updated, the Mayor explained at the grand opening he’d found a bit of romance in the old-fashioned feel to the apartments and would be leaving the original size of the floor vents, which were large enough for both my feet standing side by side.

  As I watched the tarnished gold vent cover, the darkness of the air shaft seemed to warp and sway. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, trying to push the memory from my mind. I slowly cracked my eyelids, my chest tightening as I scanned the vent once more. Adrenaline forced me to my feet as a plague of dark tendrils scurried up from the vent, slithering toward me like black serpents. My heart seemed to catch fire as I darted toward the front door, nearly crashing into three stacked boxes with white knuckles clutching the corners, keeping them steady.

  “Whoa, you okay kiddo?” my mother asked, sneaking a glance from around the boxes.

  I flipped my head back toward the vent. It was unremarkable. The darkness had slithered back beneath the floorboards, and the wide vent grumbled to life as the air conditioning kicked on. I felt my shoulders relax and my breathing slow. Mom chuckled, setting down the boxes and instead carrying a basket of cleaning supplies to the kitchen area. My mom was a short woman, the top of her head only coming to my chin. She had strawberry blonde hair that curled nicely on top of her shoulders. But her sea-green eyes were my favorite; always playful and happy, despite the difficulties in her life.

  “Uh, yep, I’m fine, just excited to be here,” I lied, taking some of the boxes.

  Shrugging her shoulders, my mom stacked the sponges next to the trash bin she’d tucked beneath the sink cupboard. “You know, there is still a perfectly comfortable room you can use at home. Don’t fall in love with this place so much that you never visit us.”

  I smirked, recognizing her subtle hints this move was harder on her than she wanted to admit. I helped her add a few condiments to the refrigerator, reminding her why I’d chosen to move. “I think Doctor Stewart was right, Mom. Remember what he said. It’s time to get out on my own. He thinks it could help. And if we don’t trust him by now, well…” I trailed off, placing a small bottle of Mayonnaise on the shelf.

  My mom stopped, the bottom part of her chin crinkling as she battled her emotions. Her fingers gently brushed out some of my wavy auburn hair. It sent a net of shivers along my scalp, but I loved the feeling. “I’m just going to miss you,” she resorted, adding a liner to the garbage can.

  I wrapped my arms around mom’s slender shoulders. Someone else shuffled through the door, followed by a scratching noise of something dragging across the floor.

  “Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m only thirty minutes away. And look at the company you’ll still have for stirring conversations
all night long,” I said, pointing to my younger brother, who was pushing a small box with his toe across the entryway.

  Tyler had his blue hoodie pulled over his head, while he played a game on mom’s phone. My mom laughed and leaned in, so she could whisper. “Witness the stirring conversation skills of a sixteen-year-old,” she said with sarcasm.

  “I heard that, Mary,” Tyler said sarcastically, tapping the screen quickly before he lost another life in the game.

  “Ah, he speaks, and calls his mother by her first name,” I teased, throwing a kitchen towel toward my brother.

  Tyler stuck his tongue out in my direction. “Mom knows I love her,” he said, signing the affirmation in their mother’s direction.

  “Tyler Martin, give me that phone, and pick up boxes like they are supposed to be picked up,” Mom chided.

  I smiled, turning away from Tyler’s whiney resistance to getting the phone ripped from his hands, and opened another kitchen box.

  *

  Tyler tossed his paper plate in the garbage, smiling contentedly after downing five pieces of supreme pizza—his reward for helping without complaining too much.

  Mom stood at the sink washing glasses and the salad bowl.

  “Mom, leave those, I’ll do them. It’s late, you can go, I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

  She turned off the faucet, taking in the small apartment with a sweeping glance. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay tonight?”

  “Uh, where would we sleep?” Tyler asked, leaning against the door frame. “This place is a shoebox.”

  “It’s called a sleeping bag, princess,” I teased, ruffling his thick blond curls.

  “Stop,” Tyler huffed taking a swipe with his hand toward my face.

  “Mom, please, you don’t have to stay over. I’m twenty-two years old. I’ll be fine.”

  “Almost twenty-two,” she corrected, hugging my shoulders tightly.

  I rolled my eyes with added drama, but I let Mom hold tight a moment longer than usual.

  “Okay,” she said, clapping her hands together. With red eyes, she glanced at my brother. “Tyler, do you have everything?”

  He shrugged, yawning wide against the door. “You told me not to bring anything.”

  Mom rolled her eyes and stepped into the hallway. “You keep this door locked, all the time. Promise?”

  “I promise. But honestly, when was the last brutal murder in Shadow’s Keep?”

  “It doesn’t mean you should think you’re invincible. Always be cautious.”

  I chuckled and tapped Tyler’s shoulder. “Hey, jerk-face, be good to Mom,” I said, pulling him in a tight side hug.

  “Yeah, whatever scab-eater,” Tyler said, smiling. “Just don’t come back to visit too soon.”

  My heart swelled when Tyler leaned in deeper in the hug. I took it as my invitation to give him a real embrace. After a moment, Tyler shrugged my arms off and followed Mom toward the elevator. Despite our age difference, Tyler and I were close as siblings, and though I’d never admit it out loud, I was going to miss his teenage attitude every day.

  “See you on Sunday,” Mom called as the elevator doors closed.

  “See you,” I whispered to the empty hallway before turning back into the small apartment.

  Heavy silence created a cocoon around me when I stepped back inside. As promised, I clicked the lock in place and took in my new home. Despite the apartment being a ‘shoebox’, to me it seemed enormous and empty. I slid in behind the keyboard I’d placed snugly in front of the window. Spending money didn’t come naturally, but when I’d resigned to move away from the grand piano at my mom’s house, I knew I’d have to buy something to feed my fingers’ desire to pound against keys.

  Closing my eyes, I let the melody flow from the keys. Pachelbel’s Canon in D calmed my nerves and filled the apartment with a sense of peace. I’d taken lessons since I was eight, and music had become my most dependable companion. When dark memories slithered into my mind, or when the chills were too much to bear, I could count on the peaceful solace of beautiful chords sewn together into one perfect composition. Mom had always encouraged me to teach lessons, but I’d never pursued the notion, although I knew I could do well providing various levels of instruction.

  Once my thumbs cramped from reaching across the keys, I flipped the power switch, smiling at my small keyboard. It wasn’t the same as playing on mom’s instrument, but it would do. I sauntered into the kitchen and stacked the dishes in the sink to dry, before stepping into the small bathroom to get ready for bed.

  After washing my face and my sweaty, frizzy hair, I stared at my reflection while brushing out the snarls, feeling the sense of truly being on my own for the first time. My blue eyes were my father’s. They were the color of the ocean after a storm and pulled the light against my auburn hair. I poked at my cheeks, wishing they were fuller. My mom was athletic and fit. Even thought she was a small woman, Mom appeared strong and as if she could take on any challenge presented. I, on the other hand, was a self-described stick. My collarbone jutted up beneath my pale skin, and the strappy undershirt only accentuated my boniness.

  Sighing, I wiped off the little make-up I’d put on that morning, and pulled my thick hair into a high messy ponytail. The pills seemed to be glaring in my direction, beckoning me to pay attention to them perched on the edge of the sink. Fatigue was settling in quickly, and for a moment I contemplated the idea of skipping a dose for once. Perhaps, being so tired, I wouldn’t need help for one night.

  Goosebumps dotted my skin as a bitter blanket of numbing cold filled the tiny bathroom. Closing my eyes, I desperately tried to shake the suffocating darkness from my mind. Refusing to ignore their call for another moment, I clasped the bottle tightly and popped the lid. The small, white dot was small enough to swallow without water, and as soon as it slid down my throat I knew I wouldn’t have to face the darkness.

  I rubbed my palm without thought, where a pink, arrow-shaped scar was embedded in the center of my hand. How I’d gotten the mark wasn’t clear to me. All I remembered was the cold and shadows creeping along in the damp abyss.

  The pills ensured I would sleep deep enough to not dream. I hated how dependent I’d become on a dreamless night, but I would do anything to never see the nightmare again. Taking three cleansing breaths, as Doctor Stewart had instructed, I forced my mind to simply think of nothing. Snuggling beneath my soft comforter, my body relaxed and I drifted to sleep, far from the memory of the wasteland which had changed my life forever.

  Chapter 2

  Shadow’s Keep was nestled inland from the coast, only an hour drive from Boston Harbor. It was a slow-paced city, and sometimes I wondered if anyone outside the borders even knew it existed.

  The town was a hotspot for supernatural hunters because of the legend of the shadow people. The legend is the reason behind the name of the small blip on the map, and it runs deep in the local culture. I became connected to the legend a year after my father had transferred from Cincinnati to Shadow’s Keep. My parents had decided to open a second branch of his old insurance company. His former partner had stayed in Ohio, while my more adventurous father opted to move toward the coast. I’d only been three years-old, and a year later was my accident. And from then on, I was considered a lucky survivor of the shadow people.

  Signs line the winding highway, marking spots where people say the mysterious sightings had occurred. My experience was strange to say the least, but I had concluded after years of working through the experience in my own mind, the shadow people had nothing to do with my accident.

  But even if my family believed I had been protected by a miracle, it didn’t stop those with a firm belief in the shadowed spirits from thinking I was truly cursed. Once, a man who seemed as if his skin would sag off his cheeks had come to my parents to protect me and the town. He’d relayed the tale of the great darkness which had consumed the area of Shadow’s Keep centuries earlier, and how a battle of light and dark had been fought, until f
inally the wicked darkness was trapped and locked away. The legend continued, saying mysterious spirits haunted the shadow woods, awaiting the day they would return and unleash fury on the world.

  The old man had pulled out a mason jar filled with a juice that smelled terrible; like rotting apples coated in heavy garlic seasoning. He said it would build a defense against the darkness from finding me and returning to the town. I’d been in the room playing with my old kitchen set, and without warning he’d shoved it under my nose as if trying to get me to drink. I remembered my mom snatching me up and my dad quickly ushering the man from our home.

  No one had tried anything so brash since, but I knew I was tagged as the shadow girl. I couldn’t blame people, sometimes I believed I was cursed too. I was different, and I had secrets that deep inside I knew were connected to the day I’d barely made it out of the woods alive.

  Because of the ghost stories, the main tourist attraction was Shadow Lake, a true gem hidden in the woods. People would come from all over the East Coast to camp, hoping to be one of the lucky few who could catch a glimpse of the spectrals. Before my father died, my family used to camp on the shore each summer, not for the legend, but because of the sheer beauty of the area. Mountainous pines and elm trees covered the surrounding shores, and wildflowers seemed to sprout on every square inch of the forest floor. The sounds of chipmunks and squirrels battling over territory was a favorite childhood song I welcomed whenever I missed my dad.

  Now, as Mom drove Tyler and I up the winding road toward the lake, I missed him more than ever. Dad had kept us going to the forest, in hopes to show me I didn’t need to live in fear. Although we never went to the actual accident site (I suspect my parents had a fear of the actual place too), we would enjoy the peaceful woods as a family, making new memories in hopes to squash out the bad.