Free Beautifully Broken by Sherry Soule Page A

wraith.
    The wraith stared. Eyes like wild fires—vivid, burning. “Esael harkens thee,” she said. “Your soul shall be your sacrifice.”
      I flinched when the murmured words reached my ears.
    “Shiloh, you need to take a stand and fight,” she whispered. “Find a way to end the nightmare or more lives shall be lost.”
    Ugh, I was so tempted to yell back, “Stop with the cryptic messages already!”
    My mouth dried. My hands fisted.
    Was there really a supernatural hit list?
    Yes. I listened to my gut instinct and knew with a sickening thud of my heart that I was right. Call it a witch’s intuition. One I couldn’t ignore if I wanted to stay alive.
    Shadows scuttled through the tall grass, into the ground fog where it grew thicker, and turned everything black. They whispered in hushed voices. Shades moved to huddle near the wraith. She patted their heads like dogs. Little arms and fingers extended from the shades, like children reaching for their mother’s hand. The ghost menaced behind Trent with a foreboding aura.
    Trent’s fringed lashes lowered to half-mast. “Scared of the dark, eh?”
    “No. I’m not.”
    Lucky for me the shades had a serious case of heliophobia—their fear of sunlight kept them away from me during the day. But now that day had given over to night, paranormals ruled Whispering Pines. Shades gobbled up the panic and angst that choked me whenever I lowered my psychic armor. But I couldn’t let them nosh on my fear. Not when I was about to apply for the job of my dreams. Not when I was in the middle of a conversation with the hottest guy in Whispering Pines.
      “Have you interned before?” The softness of Trent’s tone interrupted my mental stressing.
      “Actually, no…” I tore my stare from the swirling fog. “But I totally love structural design. I took a course last summer in San Francisco with this architectural firm—it was amazing. They mainly handled modern architecture, but I found the Victorian buildings the most inspiring.” At his raised eyebrow, my mouth continued gushing, my brain playing a desperate game of catch-up. “During the 1930s, a whole lotta people shunned any style of decoration. I guess during that time, a love of contemporary, and not a love of history was trendier. It sucks because cool homes like yours in the Dutch Revival style aren’t built anymore.”
    Ohmygod—shut up. I was babbling. Big time. Why am I trying to impress this guy anyway?
    He continued to stare with curiosity. “You sound fairly knowledgeable.”
    I stuck a piece of hair in my mouth and shrugged. “Sort of. But I’m willing to learn. I’m really hoping I get the job. More than hoping,” I confided. “I’m, like, close to desperate.”
      Trent nodded, like he understood my desperation. “Do you wanna go inside?”
    No. Not now. Maybe never.

    Unease prickled my skin. I didn’t want to go into that dank, brooding place. Of course, the wraith and her shadowy pets didn’t help. But I wanted this job. And I wanted to hang with Trent.
    “Yeah. Sure.”
    He motioned me forward, but I didn’t move. “What’s wrong? Nervous about the interview?” His smile flashed, then faded, replaced by a furrowed forehead. “Or am I bothering you?” He leaned forward, staring into my eyes, as if examining my motives.
    Dang, he smelled super yummy. I fiddled with my sleeves as he continued to stare, so close in proximity. “God—no! Sorry. Just edgy. Not good at interviews and I’m stressing about the future. I wanted to go away to a university. Now it looks like I’ll be stuck attending community college. I really need this job.”
    Shiloh, get it together. Stop babbling.

    I broke Trent’s gaze and caught a glimpse the wraith, being circled by shadows roiling within the thickest part of the mist. She beckoned me through the gate with a wave. She smiled. Her dexterous fingers danced along the lace collar of her gown.
    My heart thundered. Blinking, I stammered, “It’s