Shadows of Nightshade: The Garden of Eternal Flowers, #1

By Lyla Oweds

I dream of a time where I was warm, safe, and loved.

But my waking reality is starkly different.

Anxiety plagues me and spirits haunt the shadows. No matter how fast I run, I can't seem to escape my past.

The only solace and steady force in my life is my best friend, Finn.

And now… there's a ghost haunting me. And I'm not certain if it wants help or if it wants to kill me. There's only one person who can understand: Finn's brother, Damen.

However, in reaching out, I'm betraying Finn and setting things into motion that cannot be undone.

But nobody ever said that doing the right thing was easy.

--

The Garden of Eternal Flowers is a re-envisioning of my Grimm Cases series. Eternal Flowers has taken my original vision of Bianca's story and transformed it into something new and beautiful. Some chapters are similar, and some dialogue is the same, as The Grimm Cases, Origins, but overall, about 75% of the book has been entirely revisioned with new plot points, mystery, and interpersonal relationships. Also, unlike Origins (originally a Wattpad release), there is now a clear beginning, climax, and conclusion in each individual novel, which allows them to be read alone or as part of the ongoing series.

I hope that you will enjoy Shadows of Nightshade as much as I enjoyed writing it. Truly, it is an honor to write about Bianca and her boys, and all of these characters are near and dear to my heart.

Trigger Warning: This series deals with the aftermath of severe childhood trauma.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wildling Shores Press House LLC
• Release date: Mar 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215699782

Book preview

1

THE DEFINITION OF TROUBLE

T he place I’m house-sitting is haunted.

My statement was brave, considering our history, and I hoped I’d spoken loud enough. I didn’t want to repeat myself. It had taken a lot of courage—or foolhardiness—to say it the first time.

The paranormal was a difficult subject, especially for my best friend. History had proven our differences of opinion. We’d been inseparable for over ten years, so I knew this was a topic where we were unlikely to reach a consensus.

But at this point, I was desperate. I might be going crazy, and only Finn could help me.

Yet, he showed no response. No reaction.

In fact, across the small cafe table, Finn still was typing furiously on his laptop as he remained completely undisturbed by my nervous confession. He’d made no acknowledgment of my words, and it made me wonder if he’d heard me at all.

The coffee shop was rather busy, after all.

Finn. I pressed my foot against his shin, trying to get his attention. Finn, did you hear what I just said to you?

His perfect lips turned down as he glanced up, meeting my gaze. His light gray eyes were normally easygoing, at least toward me, but right now, they were disapproving. I was thankful his black-rimmed glasses offered a filter for his judgment.

I heard. His distinctive baritone dipped lower, signaling his annoyance. However, considering the absurdity of what you said, I chose to ignore it.

Then, without further comment, he refocused his attention on his laptop.

I gasped. How could he be so callous and uncaring?

Even if he didn’t believe me, he could still listen. He was my best friend and the only person in the world I cared about, besides my parents. But he could be such a jerk!

I was being haunted. I could die.

Finn, but… I’m not wrong this time! I was close to desperate. I needed him to take me seriously. I didn’t know what else to do, and I had no one else I could trust. Wouldn’t you feel terrible if a poltergeist killed me while you did nothing to stop it?

"Yes, that would make me feel bad. Finn pushed his glasses up his nose. However, I have nothing to be worried about. Considering your track record, there’s absolutely no way a poltergeist will kill you. You’re more likely to befriend a hardened criminal and meet your demise that way. You need to stop being so paranoid about some things, and more discerning about others. That’s what gets you into trouble."

My heart fell and my pulse began to race. Trouble. I never got into any kind of trouble. In fact, I was the opposite of a troublemaker.

I helped people.

Where was he coming up with such horrible accusations?

I glared at my coffee while Finn returned to his homework—or whatever he seemed intent on.

Adrenaline rushed through me, an expected reaction to my mental preparation simply to broach this topic. With Finn so quick to shoot me down, there was nothing left to talk about. There was no way I could relax, concentrate on my own assignments.

I’d risked exposure bringing this up.

Finn and I had years of friendship, despite our different personalities. He was a hot nerd in every aspect there could be: an early riser, scholarly, athletic, wealthy, and adept at fighting. Meanwhile, I preferred to sleep in and avoid sweating at all costs. He was blunt and not shy. Definitely not like me.

How was it possible for people with contrasting personalities to be best friends? Now that we lived on campus and spent longer hours together, our contrasts were more obvious than ever.

But while he was adjusting to college life, I…

I was constantly on the edge of my seat. Besides my roommate, who was nice enough but so distant, Finn was the only other person on campus I was comfortable around.

Without his help, I wouldn’t have been able to cope with the transition. The world, in general, scared me.

And seeing him always made me feel better.

And it wasn’t just because I’d crushed on him since childhood.

There was something about being with him that managed to put me at ease. I admired him. I always had. Throughout our years of friendship and despite my quirks, he’d taken care of me.

For ten years, he never complained. And I loved him for it.

He inspired me to be more independent. Which was why I’d decided to earn my own money by house-sitting for my biology professor. I wanted to prove that I wasn’t afraid of people anymore. That I could be like everyone else.

Maybe if he saw me being brave, he’d finally ask me to be his girlfriend.

Sure, he might have been uncomfortable with the idea of me staying off-campus at first. But in the end, he’d relented. He’d assumed my goal was unfettered access to Professor Hamway’s award-winning conservatory.

He wasn’t entirely wrong about that.

However, there was something not-so-great about this job, and that was the unexpected houseguest that came with it.

Finn, I began, desperation tightening my chest. I couldn’t do this alone. I woke up last night with my chest hurting. I couldn’t even move! I thought I was going to suffocate.

He paused, hovering his hands over his keyboard, and frowned.

That gave me hope.

Please believe me, I begged. Hopefully that would be enough evidence. I couldn’t tell him I could sense spirits and sometimes even feel their emotions. But he should trust my judgment.

Finn closed his laptop with a sigh, then removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose—a clear sign he was annoyed. Bianca, you know I’m bad at mind reading. But if you’re getting anxiety attacks during the night again, you need to talk to your doctor.

It wasn’t an anxiety attack! My throat was closing with the pressure of unshed tears. Why was he arguing with me about this? I was terrified to go back to that house, but I had no choice. I had made a commitment, and I always kept my promises.

And I really needed the money.

Besides, I didn’t expect him to do any work—it wasn’t like he’d be useful in any sort of paranormal emergency. That wasn’t his thing.

I needed his help for something else entirely.

My plan involved his older brother. Whom, incidentally, I’d never met.

Damen is into supernatural stuff, right? You said he’s teaching this semester, so maybe he could help. Maybe if you introduce us—

You don’t need to talk to Damen yet. Finn opened his eyes and reached for my hand. Can’t you just trust that nothing’s wrong?

His touch was a temporary balm to my fear. My attention strayed and my heart was beating so quickly that it felt as though it would fly right out of my chest.

Nothing else existed outside of the two of us.

His mouth quirked and his eyes softened. It was during times like this that I suspected Finn had feelings for me too.

But then he spoke and the warm feeling vanished.

Have you been taking your medication?

I breathed in and clenched my fists in my lap. How dare he ask that. How dare he assume.

I did not need pharmaceutical intervention to deal with my nightmares. No matter how dedicated I was to my routine, the terrifying shadows never strayed from my peripheral vision. The suffocating sensations choking me never released, and I was perpetually tipping toward the edge of a cliff.

I was always being hunted, never safe.

I did not need more medication. I had to work through this on my own. I had to get better.

But he’d made his bias quite clear with that one statement: he was going to think that this was paranoia.

He just didn’t understand… and I couldn’t explain it to him again.

My chest felt heavy. It wasn’t often that I became genuinely angry with Finn, but this topic was a sensitive one. Why did he have to ruin everything? Why do you do that?

Bianca. He watched me with renewed wariness. You didn’t answer my question.

I’m doing what I should. I choked. Why couldn’t he just trust me? That has nothing to do with anything.

I needed to leave. I’d rather face an angry spirit alone than deal with this patronization.

I gathered my notebooks and shoved them into my backpack. I’ll just bother someone who wants to hear what I have to say.

As I turned to leave, Finn stopped me. Where are you going to go, Bianca? You don’t talk to people.

My stomach dropped, and I glanced back at him over my shoulder. He hadn’t moved from his seat but his eyes had followed me.

His dusty-blond hair fell over his forehead, and at that moment, he looked so sincerely concerned that I wanted to apologize.

I had no reason to be this upset.

But I was.

All he had to do was listen to me, and he refused.

Sorry to bother you. I stepped back, and his eyes widened. I’ve just been tired lately. I’ll talk to you later.

Bianca?

Bye.

And with that, I walked away from Finn Abernathy.

I huddled under my covers as I tried to ignore the presence lurking in the corner of the guest bedroom. It’d been hanging around for a long time tonight. Surely it was an evil spirit intent on sucking out my soul. But it hadn’t made a move to do anything yet, and there was nothing I could do about it right now.

Not that I could do much anyway.

Besides, I couldn’t get over my stomach-turning guilt. Now that I’d had time to reflect on my earlier fight with Finn, I had to admit I’d been kind of mean. I’d even walked away from him.

I deserved to lose my friend over this.

If that happened, I would allow the ghost to drag me into the flames of eternal hell. I would welcome the journey. Perhaps a demon or two might want my companionship.

But also, what if Finn decided to follow up on his suspicions? He’d brought it up first. What if he decided to check my prescription?

I shouldn’t have brushed him off.

It was only a little after one in the morning. I’d just checked my phone moments before. Maybe he would still be awake. Would he mind if I sent him a message?

He had to know that I just couldn’t stay angry with him for very long.

Snatching my phone from the bedside table, I pulled up my messages. It was easy to locate our chat—I only had three contacts: my parents and him.

I wasn’t sure how to approach my apology. My best bet would be to pretend nothing had happened. It was the most foolproof way to escape conflict.

Me

Are you asleep?

I hit send before I could second-guess myself. Sure, I’d been the first to cave by reaching out, but the one who responded was the real weakest link.

I looked across the room—toward where I knew the spirit hid. A chill slid down my spine. If there was no response in the next five minutes, it could take me to its master.

The heavy feeling in the room increased, as if the ghost heard my mental promise.

What was this foreboding? It felt as though the nature of my friendship with Finn would soon be forever changed.

I almost dropped my phone when it vibrated in my hand. He normally never replied this quickly. I’d been expecting him to wait until morning, at the very earliest.

Maybe I’d hurt his feelings. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to me anymore and this message was meant to tell me so.

My hands shook as I pulled open the text, too curious to procrastinate with my fear.

But it seemed as though my fears had been for naught. At least about Finn.

Finn

Are you feeling better now? I was worried.

Did this mean he wasn’t angry? It was almost too much to consider. Then again, Finn avoided acknowledging his emotions too. That was one thing we did have in common.

How should I respond? I wanted to be honest, but I simply couldn’t be. There was no way I could say that the ghost had now moved to a seat across from me and was currently touching my foot over the top of the covers. It would only start another argument.

I couldn’t even ask him to visit, to keep me company because I was scared. It would look suspicious, considering our earlier conversation.

No, I couldn’t bring this up with him ever again. There was too much baggage.

Me

Everything is perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow.

The next morning—which happened to be a bright and clear Saturday—I found myself standing inside the liberal arts building and outside of Dr. Gregory Stephens’s office. It was by luck, at least according to the secretary, that any professors were here at all, as it only happened that they were having an emergency staff meeting.

And if my luck continued to hold, Damen might be hanging around too.

Now I needed to muster up enough courage to enact the next stage of my plan.

I hadn’t woken up with the intent to stalk Damen Abernathy’s mentor. But when I went into the kitchen and discovered that all the dishes in the kitchen had been stacked in neat little piles by some unknown being during the night, I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands.

If that wasn’t a sign of a haunting, I didn’t know what was.

Still, this wasn’t my most brilliant plan. I’d never met Damen before. Finn only ever complained about his estranged brother. But I did consider Finn’s perspective to be a bit biased. I only knew three things about Damen Abernathy for certain: he was into paranormal stuff, he and Finn had the same middle name, and he was old enough to be my teacher.

And that was only if you considered a student teacher to be a real professor.

Which Finn, assuredly, did not.

I braced myself. Even if this was something he was interested in, it didn’t mean he’d believe me.

It was risky. I could be opening myself up to a whole new level of ridicule.

And all the talking this would involve…

This would be difficult. I had no idea how to interact normally. I hated strangers. I hated talking.

But I needed to get over it. Damen was practically family—or he would be, once Finn and I became official and got married.

Of course, though, if Finn found out that I’d gone behind his back…

Well, he would be livid. But that was only if he found out. Damen and Finn didn’t interact, so our meeting might not ever come up in conversation. I could also ask Damen to never to tell his brother that we met.

So I would take my chances.

But first, I needed to work up the courage to knock.

My heart pounded as my mind screamed encouragement. Nothing bad would happen; professors were good people. Besides, I was already growing as a person, as evidenced by the very big step I’d taken to come here today. Knocking on a door was easy. I could do this.

I wiped my sweaty palm on my thigh, sucked in a deep breath, and raised my hand.

What if he laughed at me? I froze and closed my eyes.

Come on, knock.

What if he wasn’t here? What if I’d done this all for nothing?

My eyes flew open. My heart thundered, pounding as though it might fly out of my chest.

Actually, why would he be here anyway? Damen didn’t count as a real staff member. And that low muffled voice—a barely discernible sound streaming from the office in front of me—could be the radio.

There was no use getting all worked up. I’d come back another day.

I turned around, but didn’t make it more than three steps before the door opened behind me.

Who the devil are you? The abrupt, unfriendly sound stopped me in my tracks. Damen was meaner than I’d hoped.

Turn around and answer me, the voice demanded. I haven’t got all day. I’m not allowing any new transfers into my classes right now, if that’s your purpose.

My mind screamed at me to run away, but my body obeyed the man’s stern command. It was too late to hide. There was no escape.

Mr… Abernathy? I asked.

The very tall, old man narrowed his eyes as he touched his wire-rimmed glasses with a manicured finger. "Damen Abernathy is not here; this is my office. What do you need from me? I have a consultation to attend, so make it snappy."

Then this must be Dr. Stephens. But weren’t tenured professors supposed to be kindly?

I’m sorry to interrupt… I pulled at my sleeves and focused on his brown loafers. I need to talk to Damen Abernathy, just for a minute, if that’s possible. Please. My name is Bianca Brosnan, and I’m friends with Finn. The secretary told me…

"Finn?" Dr. Stephens interrupted in a curious voice.

I glanced up. He appeared to be deep in thought.

Finn, as in, Damen’s adversarial little brother? he asked.

I frowned.

That was enough of a response for Dr. Stephens, and he continued. "I didn’t know he had any friends. Who would hate themselves enough to put up with him?"

I wasn’t even sure how to respond. I didn’t usually argue with authority, but that wasn’t very nice.

You must not be… He narrowed his eyes, studying me. Why are you here, again?

He forgot already? Perhaps he was senile. That would explain his bad attitude. I need to talk to Damen. Do you know where he is?

Dr. Stephens waved his hand in the air. "Yes, I got that much already. But why are you looking for him?"

I blinked at him—he was very nosy. But perhaps, since he was Damen’s mentor, he was interested in the paranormal too? Maybe he’d understand.

Because if you’re here to ask him on a date, I have to warn you that he has no time for games. Dr. Stephens scrutinized me. You’re an attractive young lady, but before you have your heart broken by the follies of youth, I’m obligated to tell you that…

I’m not here to ask him on a date! I blurted out, horrified that he would think such a thing. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I stared over his shoulder.

Then what do you need? He crossed his arms. Clearly something is upsetting you.

A ghost has been following me! My skyrocketing anxiety had me blurting out everything without thought. Sometimes I can see it, but other times, it’s just a feeling. I’m not sure what to do, and Finn’s being no help! I thought that, maybe, if I could talk to Damen I…

My words slowed as the reality of what I’d just admitted slammed into me. I hadn’t been thinking, as usual. And worry had temporarily overshadowed an even darker fear.

It didn’t help that the expression on the older professor’s face was less than comforting.

He stared at me as if I’d grown another head.

I screamed internally at the realization that I’d told a professor—a psychology professor, at that—about my abilities.

I had to make this better before I ended up locked in an asylum.

April Fool’s. I giggled as I waved my hand in the air. Despite how essential it was to play this off, my laugh was weak.

I couldn’t even convince myself.

I had to get out of there.

I took a step back, and the professor’s expression changed from shock to amusement.

It’s September, he said.

My breath hitched, and I continued to inch backward, ready to run. He had to believe it was a joke, and hopefully, I would never have a class with him.

It wasn’t like I’d ever take psychology anyway.

Let’s just forget that I was here, I told him. Sorry to bother you.

Wait, he commanded, and I froze. His face was carefully neutral, and I knew by his lack of expression that this was a man who carefully plotted out everything.

Don’t move. He turned around and walked back into his office.

I was in agony. I wanted to run, but he was an authority figure. He said not to move. He could track me down. Why had I given him my real name?

How could I have forgotten the first rule of investigation: always have a ready alias?

And now, because of my big mouth, I was going to be institutionalized.

But if he’d called the police, he’d done it quickly, because it was only an instant before he was back.

Here you go. He handed me a folded piece of paper. Damen has other obligations on the weekend, so he never comes to campus. But you’re in luck. There happens to be a group meeting tonight. You should tell them what you told me. I’m certain they’d be interested in hearing your story.

I opened the paper. There was an address scrawled in thin, elegant handwriting. As if that wasn’t creepy. Do I just—

They’ll be there at six, Dr. Stephens cut me off with a wave. Don’t be late, they can be very ritualistic. You know the stories. Now, I’m sorry to rush you, but I really must be going. He shrugged on a dark trench coat before nodding as he stepped past me. Just don’t anger any more spirits today, and we’ll hope to see you there.

I glanced back at the paper, stunned, then looked up at his retreating form.

Ritual? Stories?

And who, exactly, did he mean by ‘we’?

2

A PAINFUL ENCOUNTER

If I had to rank the most inconvenient aspects of going to school in a small town, this next hurdle would be highest on my list. I knew, after locating the cryptic-looking address on my map app, that I’d have to step outside of my comfort zone, again.

I had no driver’s license, and I couldn’t ask Finn to take me to meet his brother.

I had to use our limited public transportation… and then after, walk.

What other choice did I have?

It wouldn’t be a pleasant quest, as Damen apparently lived in the middle of nowhere. And we were in the mountains, during a season when the evenings were getting colder.

This adventure was going to suck.

Maybe I should have informed Dr. Stephens about my lack of transportation. But it’d been difficult to think at the moment. He must have assumed it wasn’t an issue.

So now I had to figure things out for myself. It was risky, but I could rest easy with the knowledge that it was for a greater cause.

All this angst for a meeting.

Perhaps it was a sign. Perhaps I shouldn’t go. Hadn’t the metallic banging noise stopped at some point mid-afternoon? Surely, that was a good omen.

Maybe the ghost had given