Shadowy Pines

By L. D. Blakeley

When an over-educated, underemployed millennial is called home to help with the family business, he jumps at the chance to leave his crap job, crappier love life, and the city behind.
But moving to Shadowy Pines isn't quite the idyllic life change Finn Parks imagined.
How the hell do you cope when you find out magic – actual magic – is real? Or that you also happen to come from a long line of powerful witches? And that handsome man with all the sizzle? Yeah, he might be trying to kill you.
FML.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Nov 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781773398464

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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2018 L.D. Blakeley

ISBN: 978-1-77339-846-4

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: CA Clauson

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To LX who, after a few glasses of wine, continues to provide story ideas—from the sublime to the ridiculous—that will keep me writing until the end of time.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

While many of the surrounding places named in this story are indeed real locations in the Kawarthas region of Ontario, Canada—Shadowy Pines (mores the pity) is entirely a construct of my imagination.

Huge thanks to my beta readers Melanie Fletcher, Alyson Pearce, and Susan Reeves. And a special shout-out to Carole-Ann Galloway for her gracious and valuable feedback.

SHADOWY PINES

L.D. Blakeley

Copyright © 2018

Chapter One

Are you kidding me? Of course, I’m in. You’re family. Besides, he added, precariously bracing his cellphone in the crook of his neck as he fired up his woefully outdated laptop and waited for the system to boot, being told to go fuck myself on a daily basis isn’t exactly worth the measly paycheck I’m taking home right now.

The whir of his antiquated computer as it chugged to life made Finn Parks nervous—it had been on its last legs for months—but the satisfying sight of another successful launch let him breathe easy.

Yeah, I can totally do that. Gives me plenty of time to pack up all my shit and deal with any loose ends here.

His cousin’s call had come out of the blue, but the timing couldn’t have been better. Family came first, so he hadn’t given it a second thought when Jude rang asking for his help. Lately he’d been itching to make a move, restless and disillusioned with life in the big city in general. Now he had the perfect opportunity to do something other than bitch to anyone willing to listen.

Sounds awesome, Jude. See you then.

You planning a trip?

Shit, Beck, when did you get here? He’d been so engrossed in his conversation with Jude, he hadn’t heard his roommate enter the kitchen. Poor Beck had been on the receiving end of more than one woeful performance of the Finn Parks Blues. And while they’d never been what he would describe as close, Beck was definitely more understanding and sympathetic than many roommates might have been.

Sorry, man, Beck huffed out a chuckle. Didn’t mean to startle you. You want one? he asked, pulling two cans of pop from the fridge.

Thanks. Finn opened his, ignoring the slight niggle of guilt gnawing at his gut. There was no easy way to break it to his roommate he was leaving, so he went with the Band-Aid removal approach—one quick yank and done. More of a permanent one, he added quickly, hating his own vagueness.

So, you’re what … leaving? Like moving out?

The dejected tone in his roommate’s voice, however, would suggest maybe that Band-Aid method wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Not for another couple of weeks. And I can totally pay my share of the rent ‘til the end of the lease. He didn’t exactly have money lying around in piles, but he wasn’t going to leave Beck high and dry. On top of it just being an all-around dick move, it wouldn’t do his Karma any favors. I can help you find someone to sublet or even re-up on a new one when it runs out.

That’s not for another two months. When were you planning to leave?

Next weekend. Aware of how wishy washy his voice sounded, he plundered ahead hoping his explanation would redeem him somewhat. You know better than anyone things haven’t exactly been sunshine and unicorns for me. My plan was always to move to the city for school, graduate, get the perfect job and fall in love with the perfect guy. And so far, the only thing I have to show for any of it is a mountain of student debt, a shit job, and quite possibly the worst dating track record known to man.

Beck chugged a huge mouthful of Diet Coke and was quiet for a moment. I mean… He struggled with his words. Where are you even going? And what about work?

That’s the beauty of it. Finn smiled. I’m going home. Sort of. Shadowy Pines had never been his home, but his family had been there for what seemed like forever. And I’ll be working with Poppy and Jude at the bookstore.

Shadowy Pines? Beck sounded more confused than angry, and for that Finn was grateful.

Yeah, Aunt Poppy and Jude are losing two of their part-timers and need someone to pull up the slack. I figured, what the hell? I hate my job. I have no love life to speak of. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

It was fair to say that, at the ripe old age of twenty-three, he was stuck in a rut and saw no real change happening in the foreseeable future. With any luck that was all about to change. Now he was headed toward something good, something positive. And, if nothing else, he’d be surrounded by family.

Fuck, dude, I’m gonna miss you. Beck frowned and moved in for a full body hug.

Me too, man. Finn allowed himself to be crushed against Beck’s chest. But it’s not like I’m moving to Antarctica. I’m only going to be a few hours away. You can come visit.

Count on it. Beck’s voice was muffled. If Finn didn’t know any better, he’d swear there were tears.

****

With the heat and humidity of summer in the city a slowly vanishing point in his rear-view mirror, Finn delighted in the gold and glitter of autumn as it summoned him toward the sleepy town of Shadowy Pines.

Make no mistake, he still had no idea what he wanted to be when he grew up. But for now he had a purpose, a destination—hell, he even had a car. It was a car that barely ran, but it got him from point A to point B, so he wasn’t about to complain.

Until said car decided to test him in the form of a flat tire, the ominous whomp-whomp noise and tell-tale pull on the steering wheel taunting his cheerful optimism.

Oh, come on!

Stopping to change a flat held absolutely no appeal. But the cost to replace a set of rims driven on bare sure as hell wasn’t in his meager budget, so reason won out.

As he pulled over on a wide stretch of shoulder, a sign no more than 150 feet away, thumbed its proverbial nose at him. Shadowy Pines, Pop: 8,756.

He shook his head and huffed out a quiet chuckle.

Figures.

Hoping for the best, he hopped out to assess the damage. Crap. His front passenger-side tire was completely flat.

Opening the hatchback, he stared glumly at what should have been a twenty-minute job. With most of his apartment packed into the back of his car and effectively burying both the jack and his spare tire, that time just doubled—and that was if he hustled.

Fuckety fuck. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Finn rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, trying to imagine a scenario where someone else might happen along and do this for him. Sadly, reality was a harsh mistress. Welp, guess this tire isn’t gonna change itself. He rolled up his sleeves and started unloading his worldly possessions onto the side of the road.

Mercifully, his aunt Poppy’s insistence that he learn how to change a flat before he took his driver’s test paid off. So before too long, he had the spare firmly in place, the flat stored in the trunk, and only a few scuffed knuckles to show for his efforts.

One good thing about a wardrobe that never veered from jeans, dorky t-shirts and his ever-constant Doc Martens was never having to worry about ruining his so-called good clothes in the face of an emergency. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been careful as hell with his latest acquisition—a long-sleeved TARDIS-blue shirt with three check boxes labeled: Single, Taken, Waiting for A Mad Man with A Blue Box. The last one was ticked. Obviously.

He set about Jenga-ing his belongings back into the car and decided he’d worry about where the money for a replacement would come from some other time. This minor blip wasn’t going to derail him.

As he jogged out to grab his safety triangles, a rustling in the trees caught his attention. When nothing materialized, he shook off the notion someone might be out there watching him from the woods. But to be on the safe side, he picked up the pace as he darted back to the car. If something did have eyes on him, he hoped like hell it was something small and fuzzy. Then again, small and fuzzy was usually followed by large and protective. Screw that. He’d much prefer whatever it was stayed put until he hauled ass out of there. Rather than tempt fate, he snatched up the orange plastic markers and hauled ass back to the car.

With his lanky limbs barely tucked back behind the wheel, he breathed a sigh of relief, only to be met with a riot of blue and white as it swooped furiously toward his windshield looking every bit like it was going to crash straight through. Recoiling despite the barrier of protective glass, Finn’s instinct to duck and cover forced him into an awkward hunch. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the imminent crash … that didn’t come.

Sitting tall, he blinked slowly in disbelief. Instead of the expected mess of feathers and gore, the tiny winged projectiles were now hopping happily across the hood of his car. He’d never seen a blue jay, save for the sports jersey caricature. Now four of the cobalt-feathered creatures peered in at him, almost expectantly. They huddled closely together and the largest of the birds called out loudly in an excellent imitation of a hawk. Sitting as still as possible, he watched the feathered quartet as they danced on his hood.

And as quickly as they’d dive bombed, the birds were gone again in a flurry.

Fuck me. He huffed out a breathy laugh. While a team of feathered missiles wasn’t exactly his idea of a welcoming committee, Finn couldn’t help but grin at the dramatic reception. Once his heart rate slowed to normal, he put the car in gear and gingerly carried on.

If anyone had asked him last month what he thought of the tiny town of Shadowy Pines, he'd have been hard-pressed to answer. His parents grew up there, he knew that much. It was a half hour away from Twin Oaks, where he grew up. And it was where his aunt and cousin currently lived and ran a small, moderately successful bookstore. Beyond that, it was little more than a pretty town he visited on occasion.

In a million years he never would have predicted that he’d be packing up his second-hand Kia like a shiny foreign clown car and heading to the bucolic locale indefinitely. In fact, he’d nearly convinced himself that he was perfectly happy being a city boy. Staying in Toronto seemed like a sound decision after graduation. If he’d known then how crap the job prospects for a twenty-something fresh out of school with a B.A. in English would be, he might have chosen differently. The brochure never mentioned the distinct lack of potential employers throwing lucrative job offers at his feet.

Now that the shine of the city was slowly fading, Finn was ready for a change, and helping out at The Story Never Ends sounded ideal. Taking Jude up on his offer seemed like the perfect opportunity to flip his own personal reset button.

Fortunately he hadn’t arranged a set arrival time, so the unexpected flat wasn’t going to screw with anyone’s agenda. And instead of rushing to his final destination, he could take his time, and enjoy the rustic beauty of the autumn woods that bordered the old highway as he drove the last few kilometers into town. Besides, he hadn’t been around to visit his mom in ages and that was first on his to-do list.

While it was true he’d never lived in Shadowy Pines and it had been a few years since he’d last visited, the first glimpse of that giant wrought iron fence was comforting and always put him at ease. It was probably a bit creepy to most people, but there was something about the imposing black rampart that made him feel safe. Whether it was wrapped in vibrant tendrils of ivy or bundled at the base in fallen leaves, a sense of security always enveloped him the minute he passed through its gates.

He wandered along the paved path that circled the grounds and stepped off onto the lawn when he reached his mother’s headstone. He was supposed to feel sad. That was normal, or so he’d been told. But this had been his mother’s home—for want of a better term—for most of his life and he’d been visiting her here since before he was old enough to understand the concept of what here was.

A few errant twigs and leaves had covered up the quartered circle near the base of the marble marker and he brushed them away as he read her name aloud. Aveline Divina Hilliard.

As a kid, he’d gotten into the habit of talking to her whenever he’d come to visit. Every other month or so, Poppy would bundle him up and bring him by, no matter how briefly. And since she did it too, it never seemed out of place to speak as though his mom were somehow present. Even after he started to make the visits on his own, he carried on as though she somehow heard him.

Looks like I’m in town now. He crouched down so her name was at eye level. Guess I wasn’t much of a city boy after all. Which sucked. He was always so sure that was where he belonged. "So maybe this can be home for me too. Well, not here here, he gestured at the surrounding headstones. Obviously."

Because the universe apparently loved a good cliché, a sudden gust of wind whistled through several low hanging tree branches and sent a pile of dead leaves rattling back across his mom's grave. Only graveyards weren’t where the bogeyman lived. Finn had learned that a long time ago.

It didn’t explain away the mild sensation he was being watched.

Chapter Two

As he turned down Regent Street, Finn smiled as the businesses and retailers of the town’s main drag came into view. Stately trees in their seasonal riot of color and angled boulevard parking along both sides of the street added to the area’s charm. He loved the old-fashioned looking streetlights that dotted the way, every other one festooned with giant planters full of seasonal foliage.

Down past the bank he could see the bookstore’s frontage. The Story Never Ends was Shadowy Pines’ one and only bookstore, so it catered to everyone. In a world of online and big box book retailers, it was unusual for an independent to flourish the way his cousin’s store had. Must be the Hilliard family