Beautifully Broken by Sherry Soule Page B

each rumbling purr. “Ah, poor baby. Are you hungry?” She loudly meowed.
    Trent returned with a bowl of milk and set it on the floor. I lowered the kitten and watched her greedily lap the milk.
    “She’s cute,” Trent said. “What should we name her?”
    The ball of grey fluff raised her head, licking   white drops off her mouth.
    “Charm.” I hoisted the kitten and cuddled her in my arms.
    Trent scratched her under her white chin. “Charm?”
    “Yeah. It’s perfect.”
    He scratched the cat behind her ears. “I’d rather have a dog,” he teased.
    “Shhh, Charm will hear you.” I covered the cat’s pointy ears with my hands.
    Trent grinned, taking the kitten from my arms and surprising me by kissing Charm’s head. He set her on the floor and grasped my hand. “Come on.” Then turned back, “Here kitty, kitty.”
    Charm followed us through the lower level, consisting of three parlors, a drawing room, a library (with bookcases that reached the ceiling and contained hundreds of books), a dining room, an enormous kitchen, and the housekeepers’ quarters. In the library, the mildewed odor of old parchment greeted me with a tickle that hit the back of my throat. Trent explained the lights weren’t working in this part of the house yet, but I fought against the dim light and scanned the musty tomes on the shelves. Spotting numerous books on the occult, I flipped through one and read a ritual used to summon malignant spirits. With trembling fingers, I put the book back.
    Why do the Donovans have these type of books?

      “What are you doing? There’s more to see,” Trent said from the archway behind me.
    A chilling wind whipped through the room. Something drifted in from the hallway. Something hazy, arctic—menacing. It stroked my face, almost like the caress of fingers against my cheek. Cold fingers. Dead fingers. Frigid air wrapped around my legs. Darkness moved, expanding into a figure that donned shadows like a second skin. A threatening presence of nasty evil.
    My body jelled into ice. My pulse hammered. Overhead, the chandelier swung dangerously. An onyx mist swirled past me, brushing my clothes. It shoved me from behind. I stumbled into a table. I broke the sensation of terror and moved, flailing my arms at the unseen intruder.
    Vaporous blackness circled the huge chandelier like a tornado. The chandelier swayed precariously back and forth. Faster and faster. Then I heard a loud crack.
      Something hit me from behind, propelling me forward. My body hit the worn rug with a thud and I let out a startled, “Oomph!” as I went down.
    A thunderous crash proceeded, echoing throughout Ravenhurst. Shards of glass flew at my face and pricked my skin. Dust and grime saturated the air.
    My back and butt throbbed from the sudden body slam. Trent’s body covered mine, the beat of his heart pounding against my chest, heavy and fast. I peered over Trent’s shoulder, and saw what had caused the commotion. The gold chandelier drooped to one side, listing on the ground, inches from where I’d been standing only seconds ago.
    Trent pushed himself up on his hands, then leaned over me. His mouth was slightly open and his heavy breathing grazed my face. His body heat warmed me, chasing away the chills that had been forced into my system when the blackness had attacked. His scent filled me, imbibing me with comfort. His brilliant emerald eyes conveyed a depth of concern that touched my heart.
    “Are you hurt?” He pushed away from me and sat back on his heels. “That was crazy-weird.”
    “Yeah,” I mumbled. “Weird.” I clasped his outstretched hand and let him pull me up.
    Trent grinned, dusting himself off. “You realize that in certain cultures, you would become responsible for my safety, or you’d provide an offering, like a goat, until the debt was paid.” Trent stared into my eyes, obviously unconscious of their power. “Sure you’re all right?”
    I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Yeah.