BREAKING SHADOWS (Shadows Book 1)

Chapter 2

The angel left quickly after our binding, promising he would return soon with the details needed to uphold my end of the bargain. Only now I allowed myself to acknowledge the dull ache of apprehension in the pit of my stomach. But I was alone, with my grandmother very much alive and her soul intact. There was no going back now.

            I looked at the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall. It had been intricately carved to tell the story of Hansel and Gretel. A tale of horror for a witch. The devious children who ate a witch out of house and home and then murdered her for all her generosity.

The hands read nearly four-fifteen.

            I imagined sinking into the soft mattress of my bed and curling up in the duvet, but if that happened, I'd be there for the duration. I fell asleep on the sofa, wrapped in a dressing gown, to the low hum of the TV.

The light of breaking dawn woke me before half six.

"Officers attended the scene in Cullfield, a suburb of New York City..."

            I peeled open an eyelid. The TV continued to play to itself, showing American-looking police standing by a strip of bright yellow tape.

"...the whole town was found massacred in what eyewitnesses have described as a bloodbath."

Bolting upright, I grappled for the remote to turn the volume up, heart hammering against my ribcage.

"Police have appealed for witnesses and urge neighbouring towns to be vigilant. We'll have more on this breaking story as the information comes through. Now, here's the news wherever you are." The opening credits rolled for the local news.

Footsteps sounded on the floorboards above. Gran was up. She must be feeling better. I switched off the TV and raced upstairs.

"Gran!" I called. "Gran!"

I caught her leaving my room, eyes puffy and red-ringed, skin grey. The soft grey curls framing her face were wild. She gave a gasp, sucking the air from the room and fell back against the door.

My feet stalled on the top step. "Are you okay?"

Her mouth bobbed struggling to form words that wouldn't come.

"Gran?"

"Oh my – Riley!" she crossed the few steps between us and wrapped me in her arms, the scent of lavender triggering a dormant headache. One of her hands went to my hair, pulling my head towards her shoulder. Over and over she whispered my name.

Then she pushed me away, holding me at arm's length. Withered hands cupped my face, her thumbs making downward strokes on my cheeks. She laughed through her tears.

"What did you want me for?"

"Are we not going to talk about this?"

Gran released my face to wipe her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffing away the tears as though they'd never been. "There's nothing to talk about, Riley. I'm  tired, I must not have recovered as much as I'd thought."

I wanted to tell her she'd be fine, that the illness wouldn't be rearing its ugly head again, but then she'd want to know why. Even I wasn't proud about how I'd gone about it, but seeing Gran like this again, well enough to be on her feet or nearly tumbling from them... I'd made the right choice. I'd make the same one again.

"Once more then, what did you want me for?"

What did I want her for? "The news. On the news, there's something about a massacre in a town on the outskirts of New York. From the sounds of it, it seems like the whole town. I didn't know if it merited checking out. It could be a coven."