Free The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall by Lauren Smith

done this before, yet flashes of an unknown memory dug into her mind, sliding through years of memories she knew belonged to her. These slivers of conflicting images, hazy as morning mist, gave her a sudden headache. Putting her hands to her temples, she rubbed at the tender spots, hoping to ease the strange pain. It relented just a few seconds before Bastian looked her way. She answered his questioning gaze with a smile, hoping to hide her slight distress.
    Ahead of them the sun had turned from peach to bloodred as it sank into the horizon. The nerves and jitters she’d had all day seemed to fade as he drove them toward town. When the song ended and another one began, he turned the volume back down to a soft background noise.
    “I knew you would be fun,” he declared.
    “I knew you would be arrogant,” she retorted, but there was no real bite in her tone. She enjoyed his teasing, now that she’d figured him out, or at least part of him. He kept his distance and tried to be off-putting to strangers to keep safe, just like her. But he slipped every now and then, letting her see a different man, someone carefree and happy. She hoped the man singing in the car was the real Bastian. The brooding, jaded man he presented himself as wasn’t quite the same, like a shadow of his true self, a shadow distorted and fractured by years of loneliness and tragedy.
    His past was full of pain and disappointment. He’d lost his father at a pivotal age in his life, and the responsibilities of his title and estate were a heavy burden he’d borne alone. The appearance of his easy life, with model girlfriends, fast cars, and parties, was probably an illusion he created to keep the bleak past and uncertain future at bay. Sometimes pretending to be something else, or masking who you truly were, was the safest thing to do.
    She understood that. As a kid, she had known she wanted to study history and had taken school seriously. She had never tried to be something she wasn’t, but sometimes she’d been tempted for just a moment here or there to change herself to escape the harsh judgments passed by her peers.
    The rest of the drive into town was quiet but pleasant. Bastian seemed lost in his thoughts. He navigated the streets with ease, despite the flocks of tourists drifting in front of them like brightly colored birds.
    “Where are you staying?”
    “A little local inn two blocks from here.”
    He followed directions she gave him and pulled up in the first available parking space half a block away. Although the streetlights had turned on, the corner where they parked was still dark. He locked the car and pocketed the keys. A heavy silence settled between them, and he stared into the darkness, his face suddenly turned ashen. A woman stood just at the edge where the lamplight kissed shadows. It was impossible to see the woman’s face, but the weight of her attention felt like twin holes boring into her skull. A primordial fear stabbed her chest and clouded her mind. She struggled to form words.
    “Bastian, I know I’ve been enough trouble, but do you think you could walk me to the door?” She sounded pathetic, but she didn’t feel safe walking to the inn alone. Something about that woman…
    He didn’t reply; instead he continued to watch the woman, his lips pursed into a frown. Did she unsettle him, too?
    “You don’t have to come with me.” It cost everything she had to say that. The second she was able, she’d just run straight for the inn’s door.
    “You aren’t staying here tonight. You’ll get your things and check out immediately. I’ll have Randolph prepare you dinner and a room.”
    “What?” Stay? At Stormclyffe with him? Her jaw slackened and she knew she must have looked ridiculous.
    He shot her a quick, distracted look before returning his focus to the woman at the end of the street. “You’ll stay with me. Don’t try to argue. I won’t hear otherwise.”
    Argue? Why would she argue against that? She tried