Arch of Shadows (Echo of Whispers Series Book 2) Read online

  ARCH OF SHADOWS

  Book Two

  Echo of Whispers Series

  By: C.L. Bush

  Copyright © 2017 by C.L. Bush

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2017

  ISBN 9781549836169

  www.clbush.com/

  OTHER BOOKS BY C.L. BUSH

  Fire In My Heart Series:

  The Heart of Now – Book One

  Fire of My Past – Book Two

  Wife of Tomorrow – Book Three

  A Hand in Love and Murder – Book Four

  A Trial of Secrets – Book Five

  A Vindicated Heart – Book Six

  Major Series:

  Major Bodyguard – Book One

  Major Pacifier – Book Two

  Major Charming – Book Three

  Stand Alones:

  Alice and Uncas

  Echo of Whispers Series:

  Echo of Whispers – Book One

  Arch of Shadows – Book Two

  The Original Lost Boy Series:

  The Original Lost Boy – Book One

  Fractured Sand – Book Two - Due out Soon!

  I F*cking Love Coloring Series:

  American/UK Cuss Word Edition

  A big thank you to my contributor Marina Katic! Your help was immensely appreciated??

  And to my editor, Sara Burgess, you take my brain and make it readable. Thank you!

  Idyllic Richmond isn’t so idyllic anymore.

  With the Arch failing and Clara lost, the group tries to gain the upper hand on the evil that is starting to invade their small town. The elders want to just leave things alone, pretend that some band-aids can keep things as they were before, but for Sam, Damen, and JJ – the only ones left of the younger group – leaving things as is isn’t an option.

  Clara, meanwhile, is in a place she has no idea how to navigate, hoping for a rescue that will never come, from those who don’t even know she is alive. Through twists and turns, she learns about the evil in the Arch and hopefully, a way to defeat it for good.

  Will it be enough?

  Explore the second in the exciting paranormal thriller Echo of Whispers series!

  Table of Contents

  PROGLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PROLOGUE

  Sam’s frustration grew as the candle in her hand flickered.

  “Come on. Come on,” she whispered, trying to will the flame into submission. She stood at a safe, but not safe enough, distance from where her best friend had disappeared just a week before. It had taken her that long to recover.

  An ignored tear had dried on her cheek as the icy air scratched her skin. Her skin was ragged with scars, but none of them mattered except the one.

  Samantha focused on a photograph of Clara gleaming among the frosty blades of grass. Salt trickled from her right palm into a bowl of water.

  “Everyone’s been looking for you.” Damen’s voice startled her and Sam dropped the remaining pinch of salt onto the unforgiving ground. He walked slowly toward her, offering her his scarf. “They say spells won’t reach her there.”

  Sam took the scarf without uttering a word. She collected the picture and pushed it gently into her pocket.

  “How many times did you try the spell?” Damen continued, worry coloring his voice. “You’re bleeding.”

  Sam wiped away the blood drops from under her nose but said nothing.

  “Let’s go home. People are gathering and we have to talk about the next steps.” Damen stepped forward for an embrace, but Samantha turned around and marched over the weeping leaves.

  “I’m done talking,” she said, extinguishing the candle with a single thought.

  A world away, Clara awakened in her own bed.

  CHAPTER ONE

  New Year’s Eve

  SAM

  Embers danced among the snowflakes, resisting the temperature collision. Samantha followed their trail absentmindedly, while empty words filled the space around her. The decorative torch in front of her home was more than decorative - it was soaked in bergamot oil, giving the house a protective shield but with a fragrance that could pass as a festive one. Her parents were away, of course. The coven had been in crisis management mode for more than a week now. Besides Damen, the house was hollow, as almost all of her holiday traditions were abandoned - all that included Clara.

  “You shouldn’t be doing that.” Damen’s remark pierced through her wall of silence and Samantha begrudgingly snapped back to the present. She wasn’t skilled enough to influence the elements on a level where she could change the weather completely. However, the turbulent raw magic in her, combined with the basics she knew of spell casting, helped Sam create snowflakes. It didn’t help her control them, unfortunately, which was what bothered Damen. An erratic, untrained teenager using magic was bad news for everyone. “If you continue losing focus like that, you’ll cause a blizzard.”

  “It’s winter; blizzards are not unheard off,” Sam responded, struggling through a smile, her gaze wandering up and down the street restlessly.

  “The coven will know it was you and that won’t convince them that you’re in control of yourself or your magic,” Damen added rightfully, and regretted it immediately. It was hard getting through to her. Most of the time his words would either hit a wall of silence or backfire. He had yet to determine which was worse.

  Sam pushed her hair away lightly and observed her boyfriend’s reflection in the window. He seemed smaller, somehow; his usually broad shoulders appeared cluttered under worries, his usual confident demeanor dimmed by a shadow in his eyes. The ten long days – and even longer nights – that had passed had carved themselves into sharp edges on his once playful profile. Many of those hours he had passed right by her side - comforting her when the pain seemed unbearable, helping her shift her focus when her magic grew uncontrollable. But Sam didn’t want to be comforted anymore – or sidelined. She wanted to act and she craved solutions for the mess around her.

  “Maybe it’s time they see that things are far from anyone’s control and that we’re wasting time on squabbling instead of doing something,” Sam said, sounding far too lighthearted for the sentiment to be genuine. The painful storm brewing inside her was obvious - rabid snowflakes covering the Richmond pathways made sure of that.

  Damen sensed her discomfort and approached her carefully, unwilling to continue the conversation but aware it was one that must be had – yet again.

  “They’re doing something,” he repeated with a sigh, dancing on the thin line between being understanding and being compliant. “With everything that’s happened, we have to find the best strategy to tackle this instead of just rushing in, Sam.”

  “This isn’t your Friday night game, Damen,” Sam growled, ignoring the ping of pain she guessed he felt. “Clara’s mom is right and they should’ve listened to her as soon as- as- it happened.”

  “Cathy’s wrong. A restoring spell wouldn’t have h
elped,” Damen explained sharply, but lowered his guard at the sight of speeding snowflakes. They were both there when Cathy had gotten the news, just minutes after Clara had entered the Arch. When there was no sight or sound of Clara for more than an hour and, while a good part of the coven was too terrified to even move, Cathy Smith insisted on casting a restoring spell. While a restoration spell would help mend broken glasses or return any affected object to its primary state, a restoring spell wouldn’t summon a wandering spirit. “Sam, Clara’s spirit is not lost or misguided; she’s-”

  “Don’t,” Sam spoke sharply, rejoicing bitterly as he gradually capitulated behind her back. Good. She didn’t have the strength to worry about him, too. Not today. Whatever his pain was, it was irrelevant compared to even a slim prospect, the tiniest of odds to reach Clara. “How was the coven meeting?”

  “What do you mean?” He frowned, shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to another. “No one told you? JJ and I are excluded from the meetings, just like you.”

  Samantha’s heart sank slightly as another one of her fears came true – they were cutting them off from any source of information. The senior coven of Richmond was making sure none of them had any say in what would be done next.

  “Dad’s explanation is that it’s supposed to teach us coven responsibility,” Damen uttered dryly, unconsciously playing with the carpet with his foot. “But I’m guessing they just want us out of the loop so... you know. None of us does something stupid.”

  “By us, you actually mean me. Doesn’t matter. They’re probably deciding to take away my magic tonight anyway,” Sam concluded and was glad to see Damen’s reflection shake his head frantically. She straightened her sweater and sighed. “They might. Zoey told me.”

  Although Zoey was as cool of a mentor as one could get, the fact that her own protégé almost died the same way her brother had didn’t sit too well with her. Sam was fairly certain Zoey might suggest cutting Samantha’s magic for a while just to teach her a lesson.

  “They won’t do it, I told you,” Damen said with an annoyingly high level of confidence. He was trying to be comforting, but all he managed to do was raise her blood pressure. “I just know.”

  “And how do you know?” she insisted, fully meeting his gaze. He was never able to lie to her or to even hide the truth, not as kids and certainly not now. “I have to know if they’re going to take my magic away.”

  He breathed in, readying himself for the offence before even opening his mouth. “I talked with my dad. And, before you roll your eyes at me, just listen.” He paused and Sam remained silent, her lips pressed together. “I had to talk to him. They were seriously considering it and I just couldn’t stand by, doing nothing. Without magic, you’re-”

  “Useless?”

  “Vulnerable,” Damen finished persistently and she folded her hands in annoyance. “Besides, he went along with it and talked with the others. It’s the most reasonable solution. I honestly don’t think they’ll give you any trouble over it. Unless you bury the town in snow overnight, that is. Try to-”

  “Refocus? I tried, it doesn’t work. Nothing works,” Samantha sharply cut in. She had tried in the previous days. Her main goal was to focus on the minimal spell casting her parents and her scorned mentor, Zoey, had taught her. She even tried googling mindfulness videos on YouTube, but it didn’t help. The smell of failure and remorse were inescapable, so she used them to charge her anger. But not tonight, she decided. There was a Clara-shaped elephant of guilt and judgment in the room, which they both had worked hard to ignore but Damen had seen and felt enough of her anger to not be able to.

  She approached him and took his hand, putting thoughts of Clara in timeout. “You shouldn’t have talked to your dad, Damen. He’ll just use it as an excuse to pull you into coven politics.”

  “He already did,” Damen mumbled, caressing her fingers with his. “But if playing along with my dad’s ideas is what it takes to keep your magic active, I’ll do it every day if I have to.”

  “You can’t make the consequences for what I did disappear and even if you could - you shouldn’t, and I didn’t ask you to,” she added with a tone of sadness as she carefully looked at him. There was no room in her head to be empathetic today, but it was still a reflex, an instinct. “Don’t let him manipulate you into things you don’t want, Damen. Just tell him you don’t want it.”

  “Tell my father that his son has no intention of furthering the McDooley family tradition of strong coven leaders?” Damen asked with a scoff. “He won’t listen, Samantha, you know that. I must’ve told him a million times. He only hears what he wants to be told.”

  “Then keep telling him until he believes you,” Samantha encouraged but could see that he had no intention of entering an open conflict with his father.

  Funny how, in the previous months, the leadership Damen had always shown in the field had wavered as the perplexing world of magic complicated their lives. Funny how, months ago, Samantha was sure of Damen’s abilities to lead their coven and how, now, she fundamentally doubted that.

  It was Clara; it was supposed to be Clara all along, Sam knew.

  “Never mind my father.” Damen changed the subject uncomfortably. “There are more important things.”

  “You’re completely right,” she gladly admitted. “Do you know what they’re discussing at the meeting?”

  “That’s not what I meant, Sam.” He shook his head. “We need to get our shit together. People from school are already starting to notice something’s wrong.” His words were met with utter confusion on Sam’s side, so he awkwardly continued, nervously avoiding her gaze as he spoke. “Like tonight. It’s New Year’s Eve, and you ditched everyone. That’s going to create questions. You can’t go from the friendliest girl in school to... well, to Clara.”

  “You’re overreacting,” Samantha responded calmly as the snow shuffled behind her.

  Of course, he wasn’t overreacting, and of course, Samantha was aware of it, but it was too much. The emotions inside her swirled turbulently, much like the snow she tried to control, and yet she was still expected to carry on a perfectly functional facade at all times. Samantha wondered if this was how JJ felt all the time thanks to his empathic talent and she wondered how it was possible that he hadn’t gone crazy already.

  “We can’t have people asking more questions than they already are,” Damen continued, now better prepared for a lengthy discussion. “Cathy’s telling everyone that Clara’s visiting colleges, but that won’t hold up forever. Eventually, they’ll have to tell something more... permanent. Like they did with Xander.”

  “Xander? What about Xander?”

  “The sheriff’s deputy announced it today,” Damen explained softly. “They ruled it a suicide.”

  “A suicide,” Samantha repeated, stricken with a tsunami of delayed sadness. “What do his parents say about that?”

  “They’ve been reluctant to cooperate, especially the sheriff.” He sighed but Samantha knew what prejudice hid behind his response. Xander’s dad was part of the magical world through marriage - he didn’t practice magic and he certainly couldn’t understand all the rules of it. Xander’s mom was the witch, and she was paralyzed with grief ever since the accident and highly unwilling to participate in any activity of the coven. It was Zoey now who took over the family duties. “Something had to be told to people, something that wouldn’t cause a panic. Besides, they had to close the case or outside authorities would meddle in, which we can’t have with the situation at hand. He should know better.”

  “What are you talking about, Damen?” Samantha squeezed her eyes shut. They burned with unshed tears. “They’re saying that Xander killed himself. Our Xander, their son. There’s no knowing better.”

  He observed her gently, which only annoyed her further.

  “She’s out there, Damen. Clara,” Sam said. “I know it. I can feel her. You know it, too. We have to get her. We have to get her back, Damen.”

  “They’re doi
ng all they can,” he whispered, embracing her in a soft hug. “I know that the coven’s planning on creating a barrier around the woods tonight. They’re going to place a ward spell so that no one can approach the Arch and nothing can leave the Arch.”

  “But they’re going to trap her inside! That’s the worst plan they could’ve thought of!” Samantha snapped in anger, pulling away from Damen’s hug. “What does Richard Gaskill say about that? The man’s been living there for more than a decade. They can’t just seal him out, and they can’t seal him in.”

  Damen shrugged and Sam turned toward the window, retracing the snowflakes’ paths. “No one has seen Richard since Clara went into the Arch. Besides, I told you. They aren’t telling us anything. I know only what I overhear or what my father decides is necessary to tell me. I also heard that the Arch is going through changes.”

  “What kind of changes?”

  “They don’t know, and since they don’t know... maybe the barrier is a good idea. They couldn’t have done it before - an impenetrable forest would attract half the state, but now - no one is even trying to go there because of everything that happened with Xander.” Desperate to change the subject, Damen pulled out a delicate, tiny woven bag from his pocket and placed it in Sam’s open palm. “I got you something. I know we’re under code red, but - you know. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

  Sam turned the bag upside down, seeing an amber pebble roll out onto her hand. She observed it studiously. The yellows and browns mixed and moved in the depth of the stone.

  “It’s a sleep stone,” he explained, a boyish excitement unraveling behind his words. “Mom helped me make it, since it’s way out of my league, obviously. You see, you trap a good memory in it with a spell and it kinda works like an amulet. If you keep it under your pillow, it’ll ward you from nightmares. If you make the hardcore version, you can even see the memory, but, like, the process is so complicated Mom didn’t even want to explain it.”

  Samantha looked at the pebble before kissing his cheek. With a sigh, she stood up and walked toward the brash Christmas tree her parents decorated just days ago. This was the first year she hadn’t participated. Denying herself any form of fun felt pervasively good.