Fun Friday – Sneak Peek at the Sequel to Shadow Eyes!
So, I had in mind that I would give you a glimpse into the sequel of Shadow Eyes, and that’s what I’m going to do. But man it was hard to find a good scene that didn’t give too much away for those who haven’t read the book! I think the next time I do it I’ll just give a disclaimer at the top – Read at Your Own Risk! 🙂 Enjoy!
“Okay,” Gregory whispered and motioned for Patrick and me to come up beside him. “This is the house.” He pointed to an old 2-story house on our left. Lights illuminated the two windows on the main level. Along with the one lone street lamp, it was enough to reveal the run-down, paint-chipped condition of the house.
“Shh!” Kyra put her finger to her mouth and cocked her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”
At first, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears, which was growing faster by the second and drowning out anything else. But when an enraged yell tore through the black sky, I gasped with the unexpected sensation of ear plugs falling out of my ears.
Frozen to the ground, we listened to what had to be the father screaming at either his wife or kids, or both. Occasionally, a desperate female voice cried out in reply. I couldn’t detect any physical pain, but her cries were dripping with emotional angst and suffering. How could the neighbors let this go on? Surely they could hear it.
Then another voice. Younger, but still firm. A boy. I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but by the end of it, his determined tone wavered into tears.
“We have to get in there. Now!” I cried, louder than I probably should have. I couldn’t help it. The passion that was supposed to be so good and useful to me burned in my chest. If I didn’t move to help that kid, I was certain I would burn to death from the flames of my empathy.
Gregory shoved open the unlocked door and the four of us barged in as all of the house’s occupants turned to stare in varying degrees of surprise.
All except for the formidable shadow in the center of the small room.
Its shape was nearly as defined as a human’s, but its inside rippled. Vapors of darkness scattered from its sinister silhouette as if its own substance was desperate to be freed. It stood behind the trashed father like a puppet master manipulating a limp doll. With one ghostly long limb raised, it gripped the man’s hand, which clutched a round, jagged object. A broken beer bottle.
The black figure finally twisted its head almost 180 degrees to face us and glared.
“What do you want?” the father shouted. “This is none of your business.”
I shifted my gaze away from the shadow’s penetrating stare and found the boy. He couldn’t have been more than twelve, but he had stationed himself in front of his mother who was crouched against a wall. She sat with a heavy fog enveloping her, still sobbing with her hands covering her face.
She glanced at us a few times hesitantly before returning her focus to her husband, or what she could see of him through the frail human shield that was her son.
The boy’s hardened expression was one of both hatred and fear. He was scared out of his mind, but at the same time he carried such intense loathing for the man who threatened his mother. He had no choice but to try to protect her.
Something glimmered beside the son. How hadn’t I noticed it earlier? A light figure barely taller than the boy stood behind him with one hand resting on his shoulder. Light radiated over his small frame, providing a glow of protection he couldn’t see. The same light also filled his heart, instilling him with a courage that made him stand tall, even as his lip quiveredbefore this violent man who undeservedly claimed the title of his father.