Welcome to Blackwood: A Town Where Nothing is as it Seems

By Khaiah Thomson

Freya has spent her life on the run-trying to blend in amongst Mundanes. Like her father, she is a Syphon with the ability to draw energy from others, including their powers. When Freya accidentally draws energy from a friend, she and her family are on the run again and return to her mum's hometown of Blackwood, where Freya's abilities remain a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hawkeye Publishing Pty Ltd
• Release date: Oct 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648366171

Khaiah Thomson

Khaiah Thomson pens the Blackwood Trilogy (YA, Paranormal Fiction) series. The first book, titled Welcome to Blackwood, won the Hawkeye Publishing Manuscript Development Prize in 2020. The second book, Leaving Blackwood, was eagerly anticipated and early reviews stunningly supportive. When Khaiah isn't in her home office writing, she can usually be found nose-deep in a book or procrastigaming. If she's not at home, she'll be at the nearest café, hovering close to the coffee machine. Khaiah lives in Western Australia with her husband and two sons. Redeeming Blackwood is coming in 2022. To follow Khaiah, and hear about her upcoming book releases, register for the newsletter at www.hawkeyebooks.com.au or follow her on Instagram @kthomson_author.

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REVIEWS

‘Ridiculously good. I read this in one weekend. Couldn’t put it down. Loved the yin and yang of Freya and Beau,’

Cate Sawyer, Author.

‘The characters are engaging and fun to read, with a good humour woven through. There were some moments that drew a proper chuckle from me. What’s most interesting is when the plot really begins to ramp up, with focus switching from the social structures of wolf shifters to the secrets Freya’s deceased father left behind. As a fellow Syphon, he is someone who Freya looks up to, and when his secrets start to impact her life, the plot hits the gas. The twists and turns taken fit the narrative well and are gripping to read, with one final little twist right at the end that had me incredibly excited for the next book. Throughout it all, Freya stays an active, clever, emotional protagonist who is engaging to read, and the story remains coherent in the lore and narrative,’ Nita Delgado, Australia.

‘I read Welcome to Blackwood in a day. The humour, especially in the dialogue, crackles along. Finding out about the Supernaturals’ way of life is fascinating, then there’s a wildly attractive Wolfshifter, and tensions between the different Super factions in Blackwood. Whilst there are some classic elements to the story you may have come across before, they are given a fresh twist so you have the joy of familiarity but in a whole new context. A very satisfying read that kept me on my toes throughout. I am looking forward to the sequel and another visit to Blackwood,’ Jackie Morris, United Kingdom.

‘Welcome to Blackwood is a thrilling, easy-read, young adult novel with loads of action and a great sense of humour. As soon as I read Thomson’s manuscript, I signed her for three books. Our team is excited to share Blackwood with readers,’

Carolyn Martinez, Director, Hawkeye Publishing.

Welcome to Blackwood

KHAIAH THOMSON

1

HE screamed. His face contorted as his skin darkened to a curious shade of grey. He clawed at his neck. People gasped. They backed away from him—backed away from me. Finally, one kid rushed to help him, and in that instant, I knew—things were about to change.

The sound of chattering birds and creaking boughs echoed through the forest.

I gaped. ‘Wow, this is incredible.’

It was like something out of a fairy-tale—the ones where fairies help humankind, instead of causing mayhem. The ancient trees were giant, with thick, straight, white trunks that became gnarly and tangled near the top, each competing for the sunlight. The canopy seemed hundreds of metres high. One of the trunks looked as though it would take thirty people linking arms to surround it. It was close to sunset and as a result, rays of golden light peeked through gaps in the canopy.

‘Make lots of noise, Freya. You don't want to surprise any snakes getting some last-minute sun!’ Mum shouted as she leaned against the car.

I waved in acknowledgement, wading my way through scrub and ferns towards what I would refer to as the great-grandfather of all trees. I reached the enormous tree, and intense energy emanated from it: a slow pulsing, green light.

It hummed. . . it was that strong.

For me, different energies have different colours, textures and flows. I placed my hands on the tree, drawing from it only briefly. It hit me like sparks of electricity running through my veins. Yet there was no pain. It kind of tickled. Within seconds of having my hands on its smooth bark, I was so pumped I could have run the rest of the way to our new home. I caught my breath and ran back to the car, hopping in as Mum started the engine.

‘This forest runs all the way along the Blackwood Valley,’ she explained. We drove through the beautiful canopy of trees before turning off a road heading towards the ocean.

‘I hope you don't mind skipping town tonight. Given how late it is, it’s probably best to keep moving. Believe it or not, your Pa texted while you were bonding with that tree—yes, texted,’ she responded to my surprised expression. ‘He said they’re waiting with dinner for us.’ She glanced down at my tapping feet. ‘Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to get up close and personal with that old tree.’

The energy felt ready to burst from my skin. ‘It was only a couple of seconds, but yeah, hindsight is a great thing . . .’

Mum joked that I had more energy than my brother when he first discovered his wolf. She glanced at the passing scenery, a smile curving her lips. ‘It’s so good to be home.’ It was good to see her smile. The past few weeks had put her on edge.

We sat in silence and I stared out the window; brooding. Our life had been upturned, thanks to me. I’d just wanted to finish school before needing to pack up our lives and move… again.

‘You know, even given the circumstances, I think this will be a good move for us,’ Mum said, perhaps trying to convince herself as well.

‘Yeah, maybe you're right.’

‘You haven't seen your grandparents in forever, and they’re excited to have us staying so close. Your brother is studying close by, so he’ll be home on weekends. Being with family will be good.’ She leaned across the console and grasped my hand. ‘It's okay.  Something was bound to happen eventually, particularly now that your abilities are growing so strong.’

‘I know,’ I said, studying my fingernails. ‘It was just such a stupid way for it to happen. What if it’d been worse?’ Mum wasn’t convinced by my indifferent tone.

She eyed me. ‘Sweetie, the important thing is, it wasn’t worse.’

Mum’s concentration focused on the road, that small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She looked forward to being close to her kind again. She was a Wolf Shifter, and we were returning to her pack, and hometown—so of course she should be happy. When she’d married a non-Shifter, there was a seventy-five percent chance their children would be Shifters. I fell into the other twenty-five percent.

‘We’ve not tried living in a small town before, so maybe the isolation will be a good thing,’ she said.

I was an introvert, so isolation worked for me. ‘Yeah, I guess. The town does have the internet, right?’

‘Mostly.’ Her brow creased. ‘I forgot to check if our house has reception.’

I’d been kidding. She couldn’t be serious, right? I raised my eyebrows and she shrugged. Great…

‘I know most people in this town, so if anything were to happen, people might be more understanding and … close-mouthed.’ Mum grimaced. My little incident was not handled well. Mundanes feared everything they couldn’t understand. ‘Think of it as a whole heap of new opportunities. When we get settled, we'll enroll you for school. Belfield, the next town over, has plenty of shops. And we’ll live five minutes from the beach too.’

‘I know. But you had to give up so much for this—your job, our home.’

‘I'm not that much of a martyr, baby,’ she smiled back. ‘Being part of a large 'family' means I’ve been lucky to be set up with a job already.’ She’d been offered a position as an art teacher at my new school. ‘Also, your grandparents said the house they set up for us is gorgeous, with wide oak floorboards, high ceilings, stained glass windows, and a wraparound veranda. I think it’ll fit us perfectly!’

I think she was hoping her enthusiasm would rub off on me. I scrolled through my phone. I hadn’t received a single text since we’d left home—that was three weeks ago.

‘I think your dad would be happy with our decision,’ Mum reassured.

‘I guess. Are you sure we can keep this a secret from your pack? You know, with the pack bond thing?’

‘It’ll be fine, Freya. I wouldn’t have decided to move here if it was too risky. Even with the bond, we still protect each other’s privacy.’

The sky was dark by the time we reached a driveway with a bright red fire hydrant that served as a mailbox—at least it would be easy to spot from the road. The driveway was long, winding through forest until it reached a grassy opening. There in the middle, stood the house that Mum had described and on the front veranda stood my grandparents waving at us with big smiles on their faces.

I got out of the car and Grandma pulled me into one of her all-consuming hugs. She eyed me from head to toe before letting me go.

I turned to Pa and wrapped my arms around his neck. He scruffed my hair and grabbed me by the shoulders, giving me a questioning stare with his weathered, sapphire blue eyes, the same colour as my own. ‘How’s my little Sprite?’ he asked.

‘I’m good, Pa.’

Pa's hair was grey, but had once been a dark chestnut colour—the same as Mum’s. When it came to personality, Grandma would often say that Pa and I were two peas in a pod: both stubborn and hot-headed. He whispered in my ear, ‘Once you’ve settled in, we need to have a chat, okay?’

‘Okay, but I don't think I’ll be telling you anything new.’

‘Still, it would be nice to have some time apart from those two gaggling geese.’ He pointed a calloused finger over his shoulder at Mum and Grandma. Their heads were bent close together as they discussed something in great detail—my recent exploits most likely.

Closer up, the house wasn’t picturesque. Paint was peeling from window frames and the veranda. The staircase was collapsed in places.

‘I'll be coming around tomorrow to get started on some things that need repair,’ Pa said as he pulled off his old cap and scratched his head. ‘Starting with those front steps.’

Mum glanced my way before turning to Pa. ‘Thanks, Dad, it certainly has potential.’

‘It's on pack territory and only five minutes from us.’ He said, emphasising his words with a solemn nod.

Grandma called from the kitchen where she’d prepared us dinner. As I manoeuvred my way up the front stairs and entered the foyer, I admired the stained-glass frame in the door. When the sun hit it, all those beautiful colours would splash into the hall. The picture detailed a forest, beach, small lighthouse, and when I looked closely, what appeared to be a howling wolf—of course. I loved the high ceilings and the ornate staircase. Mum and I picked bedrooms upstairs. The bottom storey rooms would serve as my brother’s room and Mum's art studio.

Grandma called that dinner was ready, and we pulled together a small coffee table and a few chairs that had been left in the house. I sighed in delight and inhaled my food.

‘Your dad and a few of the boys brought over some spare mattresses,’ Grandma said to Mum, when everyone had wiped their bowls clean. ‘Your neighbour is happy to let you borrow them until your things arrive tomorrow.’

‘That’s nice of them,’ Mum said. ‘I’ll be sure to thank them at my . . . re-integration.’ She paled, then turned to me with a smile. ‘You’ll enjoy it, Freya, it’ll be a big party.’

‘Why do you have to re-integrate?’ I asked.

She shrugged, eyeing my grandparents. ‘I was pretty young when I married your dad, and it upset some folks that I married an outsider and left the pack.’ She winced. ‘Some people took it personally.’

‘Now, darling,’ Grandma said to Mum. ‘Everyone is happy to have you back. It’s been twenty-three years since you left. If there were any problems back then, people would have matured by now.’ I was missing something here. I looked to Pa for answers, but he shook his head in warning.

‘Ha! Yeah, sure.’ Mum placed her bowl in the sink and walked out of the kitchen. ‘I’m going to have a shower and worry about that tomorrow.’

‘There are two fresh towels in the upstairs bathroom!’ Grandma shouted at her retreating figure.

I helped Grandma wash and dry the dishes while Pa cracked open a beer and surveyed what needed repair inside the house.

‘Grandma, how exactly do I fit in with the pack stuff?’

She patted my shoulder. ‘Think of it as an extended family. They'll look out for you, and in return, it’s expected that you attend functions and follow general pack rules while you live on pack territory. Soon, you’ll be an adult, and then it will be up to you how much you want to be involved, but as you’re not a Shifter, you’re not obligated to adhere to pack politics.’ She caught my frown. ‘Don't worry, Sprite, we’ll guide you through it as needed.’

Dinner was cleared, and Mum reappeared from her shower, seeming more relaxed. We said our goodbyes and watched as Grandma and Pa’s car lights disappeared down the driveway. Mum let out a long sigh from where she stood beside me. ‘How about you have a shower and get rugged up. I’ll make us hot chocolates, and we can give this chair swing a go.’ She pointed to the double swing sitting on the veranda. It didn't look as though it’d been used much this century.

The mention of a hot shower sounded inviting after the long hours spent on the road. After a few wrong guesses, I found the upstairs bathroom. The hot water worked its way down through my bones, forcing out the fatigue of the last weeks. The bathroom had a clawfoot bath—one that I would definitely make use of in the future. With a little shiver, I dried off and shrugged on my PJs and favourite woollen jumper. It was brown and baggy and once belonged to my dad. I’d claimed it after he died.

There wasn’t much of him left now.

I grabbed a blanket from one of the makeshift beds Grandma had set up in the living room and joined Mum out the front. She was already perched on the swing with two steaming cups. Even though it was early summer, the night was chilly. I sat tentatively on the swing as it creaked and groaned under my added weight. We sat in silence, staring out at the stars and listening to the nocturnal wildlife. A howl sounded in the distance, and I wondered if it was a member of the ‘extended family’, as Grandma had so fondly referred to them.

‘So, what do you think?’ Mum asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I paused to contemplate the question. ‘Hmm hard to say yet, depends on whether you can get a good coffee in this place.’ She scoffed at my answer. ‘But I think I could like it.’ I looked across at her. ‘Are you actually happy to be back? You never talked about your life here.’

She blew the steam from her mug and nodded. ‘I’m happy to be back. When I left after your father and I married, he filled the sense of connection I lost in leaving the pack.’ She paused. ‘He became my alpha. And when he died that part of me was left empty.’ She rubbed my shoulders in assurance. ‘I guess I didn't talk about it much because it’s complicated and . . . it’s just not my place to…’ She hesitated, then backtracked. ‘Let’s just say it’s not good to dig up the past.’

I frowned, unable to understand why she would think reminiscing about her childhood would be ‘digging up the past’.

‘I knew I’d be coming back one day, though. I didn't want to uproot you and move until you were old enough. So, given the circumstances, it worked out pretty well. I’m just not looking forward to re-integrating myself.’ She sunk into her seat. ‘There are some people I just don’t want to deal with.’

We finished our hot chocolates and retreated inside. The beds were made up in front of the open fireplace Pa had lit for us. I listened to the sound of the crackling fire and closed my eyes, exhaling a drawn-out breath. I needed to keep a low profile and blend in here in Blackwood, just as I had everywhere else. Hopefully I wouldn’t screw it up again. For some reason, Blackwood felt like my last chance.

2

IT was meant to be a small group of people.

I barricaded myself behind the kitchen bench and watched the sea of faces. Most of them I recognised from school. My gaze darted across the room as someone raided the wine cabinet. Mum was going to kill me. I clenched the glass of champagne in my fingers and raised it to my lips, drinking until the glass was empty.

‘Woohoo! Go, Freya,’ one of the girls shouted.

I glanced at my small group of friends. As much as I wanted to be angry, they were still my friends. And we’d just finished our first senior year. One year to go, and we were free. ‘I think we need some new tunes.’ I said, placing the empty glass on the counter. I waded through the crowd of people towards the lounge room and grabbed my tablet, scrolling through the playlists.

‘Hey, Freya.’

I turned towards the voice and found myself face-to-face with Connor. ‘Oh . . . hey.’ He stood close, his nose almost touching mine. I was backed against a wall and tried to manoeuvre sideways. He leaned both arms against the wall, trapping me between them. ‘Um, could you please let me go, Connor.’

He shook his head and laughed. ‘You have no idea, do you?’

By the look on his face, I had a small idea. I pressed myself into the wall. ‘Ah . . . no.’

‘I like you. A lot.’

‘Oh . . . right.’ I glanced behind him, attempting to catch the eye of one of my friends, but he grabbed my face, forcing my attention back to him.

‘I really like you.’ He pressed his lips against mine and I tried to push him away.

Something ruptured inside me, like opening the lid on a shaken coke bottle. Connor froze, then jerked away. He screamed. His face contorted with pain. He clawed at his neck as though being choked by an invisible pair of hands . . . I reached out to help, and his body turned to ash—Hmm, this part of the dream was new.

There was a sudden banging on the front door. The knocking continued, louder and louder. . .

I opened my eyes and squinted, taking in my surroundings—it wasn't my bedroom. ‘This is the new house in Blackwood.’ I reassured myself out loud.

There was actual banging, coming from the front of the house. With a grunt, I rolled out of bed. I had the same stupid dream almost every night, ever since ‘the incident’. It was hard to believe it had only been a few weeks ago. I’d celebrated the end of school term with friends while Mum was at a work function. It was a small gathering that had blown out of proportion thanks to social media. Connor had cornered me and leaned in for a kiss. I hadn’t had a lot to drink, or so I’d thought, but in my mind-addled state I’d pushed him away in a panic. My body seemed to go into self-preservation mode, and it was the first time I’d ever drawn from a person. Usually, I could touch someone without using my gift, as I kept a tight lid on my abilities. I’d never forget his face—it’s forever tattooed on the insides of my eyelids. It looked as though he was being suffocated or choked by an invisible pair of hands. It didn't last long, but the damage was done. Someone was bound to figure out what I was, and so when in tears I phoned Mum, telling her what had happened, we decided to pack.

Even though I’d missed out on the Shifter gene, I’d been blessed, or some would say cursed, with the same abilities as my dad. An uncommon and dangerous gift that labelled me a Syphon—one of the least offensive terms. A Syphon could draw powers and energy from other beings. I could take and use the abilities of others. The effects were temporary, but useful for survival.

BANG, BANG, BANG. What the hell was making that noise at this time of morning? I moved towards the source of the banging and opened the front door to find Pa nailing the new steps leading up the front porch. He was seriously fit for an old guy. Those blessed wolfy genes. It was effortless fitness, high metabolisms and other such perks, that made me a little disappointed to have missed out on the Shifter gene. Darn it for being the other twenty-five percent. I was three inches taller than Pa thanks to Dad, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in presence.

I leaned against the frame of the door, rubbing my eyes. ‘Seriously, Pa! What time is it?’

He paused to glance at his watch. ‘6:17am to be exact.’

I groaned. ‘Isn't this much noise illegal at such an ungodly hour?’

He pointed out the vast size and seclusion of our new home. ‘Not if the neighbours can't hear you.’

‘Ugh! Well, I would like to make our own law, no loud noises within a two-kilometre vicinity of this house before 7:30am.’

‘I’m afraid you'll be out-voted, Sprite. Your mother is already up and out for a run.’ A run meant she’d gone wolfy. As it crept closer to the full moon, she’d be doing so more frequently, and being on pack territory gave her the freedom to do so whenever she wanted. ‘And we all know what your brother would say.’ Yes, Levi, my dearest brother, was an early riser too. Waking up at the butt-crack of dawn must be a wolf thing. I threw him a glare and stalked off into the kitchen.

I banged my head on the pantry door with a groan. In all of the supplies Grandma had left for us, she’d not brought any coffee. This. Was. A. Disaster. I was up before 7am, and there was no caffeine. I growled and ran my hands down my face in frustration. I couldn't just draw energy from the local plant life for a boost—it wasn’t the same. It wasn't that I lacked energy. I had a head full of fuzz and lacked motivation, something only coffee could fix.

‘Pa, where can I get a decent coffee around here?’ I shouted.

His head popped up in front of the kitchen window. ‘You mean those milky beverages that you and your mother like to drink?’

‘Yes, it’s called real coffee. Made with actual coffee beans.’

‘I think there's one of those fancy cafes down on Pete’s Beach.’

Pa gave me the directions and I made a mental map to the beach. ‘Thanks, Pa!’

I ran up the stairs to my empty bedroom, where I’d dumped my bag of clothes. I pulled on a pair of jeans, sneakers and a red hoodie,