The Forest of Shadow and Bones
Jessica Sorensen
The Forest of Shadow and Bones
Guardian Academy, Dash’s Series, #1
Jessica Sorensen
Contents
1. Dash
2. Sway
3. Dash
4. Sway
5. Dash
6. Sway
7. Dash
8. Sway
9. Sway
10. Dash
11. Sway
12. Sway
Coming Soon!
About the Author
Other books by Jessica Sorensen:
The Forest of Shadow and Bones
Jessica Sorensen
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Sorensen
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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For information: jessicasorensen.com
Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs
Created with Vellum
One
Dash
There are certain times when I love my job, but there are other times when I absolutely loathe it. Take ten minutes ago.
Ten minutes ago, I was having a blast at Glamor & Glitter & Wings, an all-exclusive fey club located in New York City. While I’m not fey, my—well, let’s call it a condition—makes me seemingly undetectable to every creature I cross paths with. So I have an easy time pretending I’m fey, werewolf, vampire—whatever my little heart desires.
But let’s get back to my story, back to where I went from having a fucking awesome time while flirting with a beautiful fey woman to my dead body being discarded in a dumpster behind the club.
It all started while I was following my boss Vivianne Monarelle, Head of Interrogation at Guardian Academy, the school where I’m training to become a paranormal investigator. That’s what Guardians do. They solve paranormal crimes and murders committed by the paranormal to the paranormal. And one day, if I can ever graduate, I’ll be able to work cases. But, as of right now—at least before I died—I’m currently stuck doing other people’s dirty work. And by dirty work, I mean tailing Vivianne and making sure she isn’t doing anything sketchy.
Normally, I don’t care about doing risky tasks, like tailing my boss. But Vivianne isn’t just my boss. She’s my linea vitam, which means I’m bound to her. If she asks me to do something, I have to do it, or else I’ll drop dead—I’m guessing you can probably see where this is going.
Normally, I try not to do anything to piss her off, but the woman has been doing some questionable stuff lately. Maybe that’s why I agreed to secretly follow her. Or perhaps I’m just an idiot who makes stupid choices. If I made wise choices, I would’ve focused on staying incognito, instead of flirting with half the fey in the club. Then again, what happened might have been inevitable if Vivianne knew I was following her the entire time and was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“Dash, Dash, Dash.” Her shrill voice makes my muscles constrict and my lip curls. “What an odd coincidence meeting you here.” Her tone suggests otherwise.
“Could you excuse me for a moment?” I ask the gorgeous fey I was talking to.
I set my drink down on the bar top and face Vivianne, plastering a charming smile on my face. “Vivianne, I didn’t know you were in New York. I thought you didn’t have a vacation coming up for another month or so.”
She has her arms crossed, her hair is pulled back in a tight bun, and a pleased look lights up her pinched face. “You’ve always been terrible at following people, Dash.”
“Following people?” I feign dumb. “I’m not really sure what you mean.”
She inches toward me and lowers her voice to a hiss. “You should know by now that it’s pointless to lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.” My voice comes out as smooth as the whiskey I was just drinking, but inside, I’m on edge. I can tiptoe around the truth for as long as I want, find loopholes to Vivianne’s questions, but once she demands the truth, I have no choice except to give it to her. “And I’m not really sure what you think I’m lying about.”
“So we’re going to play it the hard way, then, are we?” She slants back and snaps her fingers. “Follow me outside. Now.”
I fight to keep my feet planted to the black, marble floor, but the bond kicks in, and a silent, slightly painful warning creeps up inside me.
If I don’t do as she says, I’ll take my last breath.
She grins, pleased with herself, as I gradually step toward her like a puppet.
“Good boy.” She pats my head before turning and pushing her way through the crowd and toward the back entrance.
I feel like an idiot for letting my guard down and getting caught. I thought she was upstairs and would be for a while—I overheard her talking with the manager of the club about a meeting that was supposed to last for hours. Why hadn’t I paid more attention to the stairway and making sure she didn’t decide to come downstairs early?
Because you were distracted by the fey with the pretty, silver eyes and luscious lips.
Vivianne reels toward me the second we step into the alleyway just outside the club. “So, do you want to tell me why you’re really here tonight? Or am I going to have to force the truth out of you?”
I shrug as the exit door behind me bangs shut. “I wasn’t here for anything in particular. Just having some fun. That is what clubs are for.”
“I demand that you tell me why you’re really here.” She folds her arms and taps her foot impatiently. “And no tiptoeing around the truth or finding loopholes. You’ll tell me the exact reason you came to Glamor & Glitter & Wings.”
Dammit! There she goes, using the word demand.
“I was …” I fight to bite back the words rushing up my throat, but end up choking on them. I’m left with no choice but to open my mouth. “I was following you.”
“I thought so.” She stalks toward me, her black heels clicking against the asphalt. “But what I really want to know is why? And who made you follow me?”
“I’d rather not tell you,” I say flatly, holding my ground, even though I want to run away from her like a coward.
Escaping her is the only way out of telling her everything. If I try to run at the wrong moment, though, she’ll just demand that I come back. I could clock her over the head, but the woman is freakishly strong.
“I don’t really give a crap if you don’t want to tell me.” Fury flames in her eyes. “You will tell me. I demand you to!” The rage fizzles to a look of sheer glee, which may be more frightening than her being angry. “And then, after you tell me, I’m going to have the person executed.” Her eerily sweet grin makes me hate her even more than I already do.
“You can’t do that.” I stand my ground, feigning calm, although the bond is screaming at me to open my mouth and pour out all of my secrets to her. “You’re not in charge of executions.”
“Aren’t I?” She thrums her finger against her lip. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but I just got promoted to Head of the Guardian Committee, which means I’m now in charge of the executions.”
My fingers fold inward, my fingernails splitting open my palms. “Y
ou’re lying,” I growl.
Her lips curl. “Then why are you so upset?”
I swallow the lump wedged in my throat. She could be lying, but with how happy she looks, I doubt it. I can’t tell her the truth, though. Not when the person she’s threatening to have executed is Jax, my twin brother.
“I won’t tell you.” I choke on the words as the air gets knocked out of my chest. I inhale, gasping for oxygen, but invisible fingers wind around my windpipe.
“Yes, you will!” Her voice trembles with rage as she storms toward me. “You don’t have a choice.”
Shaking my head, I clutch at my neck as I collapse to my knees. I do have a choice. I’ve always had a choice, ever since the day my father traded my freedom for something he wanted from Vivianne. I never knew what that thing was or why it was more important than his son. All I know is that, almost four years ago, I went from a carefree fifteen-year-old who did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to this pathetic guy kneeling helplessly on the ground in front of Vivianne. I’ve just never had the balls to make that choice.
But knowing Vivianne will kill my brother, I think it’s time. Time to say good-bye to this godawful imprisonment, to the last hellish four years of my life.
But I’m not about to go out like a coward, down on my knees, struggling to breathe.
With every last ounce of strength I have, I stagger to my feet and let a grin spread across my lips.
“Dash,” she warns with a hint of worry. “Don’t do this. No one’s life is worth your own.”
I slump against the brick wall of the club as my leg muscles grow weak. My eyelids begin to droop. The stars above me dim.
“How dare you take the easy way out!” she yells, stomping her foot against the ground like a child having a tantrum. “We had a deal! You’re my linea vitam!”
I shake my heavy head. No, we don’t, I want to say. My father and you had a deal. I never agreed to this. I'd never agreed to this.
“Dash! Just stop being stubborn and tell me what you know!” she shrieks like a wild banshee.
It’s the last sound I hear before my body crumbles to the ground and death overtakes me.
Or, at least that’s what I thought happened.
But as I’m lying on the ground, waiting for my spirit to go to the Afterlife or wherever I end up, Vivianne’s face appears above me.
“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” She tsks at me. “You should know better, Dash.” She slouches forward, hovering over me. “I always get my way,” she whispers. “And until I do, you’re going to rot in your dead body that no one will ever find. And you want to know why? Because no one will care enough to look for you.”
If I could talk, I’d shout that she’s wrong. But I’d only be lying to myself.
She’s right. No one will miss me. People don’t miss douchebags. Not even my own father will care that I’m gone. He’ll probably be glad he finally got rid of the family embarrassment, the son who always screwed up. The son he tried to knock some sense into by teaching him a lesson and tying him to a faerie-Guardian hell-bent on destroying the world.
Vivianne grins down at me, like she knows my self-deprecating thoughts. Then, with a twirl of her fingers, my body levitates, sails across the alley and lands smack dab in the middle of a nearby dumpster.
The foul stench of rotting tomatoes, dog shit, and expired food floods my nostrils.
Great. Just what I need, for my final resting place to be in the midst of someone’s week old lasagna.
My griping thoughts about dumpster food quickly shift into confusion as one question rings loudly through my mind.
If I’m dead, then how do I know I’m in a trashcan?
Maybe I’m not dead.
I attempt to move, lift my shoulders, wiggle my toes, but to no avail. My lifeless body continues to sink deeper into the trash, and wet substances soak my skin. I want to puke, but apparently, the dead can’t vomit. I internally grimace.
Maybe this is my punishment for all the bad stuff I did throughout my life: testing Jax’s patience all the time, flirting with Eve while I was dating Ruby, not getting along with my parents, betraying people because of the bond …
This would be the part where I heaved a regretful sigh, but since I’m currently questionably dead, I can’t do anything other than lie here.
Double nonexistent sigh.
Hours stream by as I remain lying in the dumpster, waiting for death to finally take me away, while I stay immobile yet coherent. The alleyway remains silent for the most part, until sunrise paints the night sky with pinks and oranges. Then I hear the rumble of a large garbage truck.
Well, shit. This can’t be good.
Bags of trash shift as the rumbling grows louder. I want to cry out for help, scream at the top of my lungs, but all I can do is lie there pathetically as a plate of rotten chicken lands on my face.
So, this is how I go, huh? Not just buried alive in a dumpster, but hauled away in a garbage truck with piles and piles of trash. I wonder if anyone will ever find me. If anyone will even try to find me. Considering how much of an asshole I can be, I highly doubt it.
“Oh, my God!” A blood-curdling scream rips through my self-pitying thoughts.
I focus on reality, on the woman peering inside the dumpster. Her blue eyes are wide, and her skin ghastly pale, as if she just saw a ghost … or a dead body.
“Someone, call the cops!” she shouts over her shoulder. “There’s a guy in here!” Her wide eyes return to me, and she whispers in horror, “I think he’s dead.”
No, I’m not! I want to scream. I’m not dead!
Well, I don’t think so, anyway. I really have no clue what’s going on; if Vivianne did something to me. The only magical abilities she has—that I know of—are fey. And fey aren’t known for being able to trap someone alive inside their dead body.
“Well, well, well, it looks like you got yourself into a bit of a predicament.” A guy around my age materializes at the corner of the dumpster, right on top of a large stack of black trash bags. He’s dressed head to toe in black, similar to my typical look. Only, unlike me, he has a shit ton of piercings and tattoos. I can tell he’s not human by the way he laughs at my situation. Well, either that or he’s crazy and thinks he can talk to dead people.
He leans against the side of the dumpster, his stance way too casual for being in the middle of a bunch of garbage and a dead body. “I find this situation sort of funny, but I don’t really think you appreciate my humor.” He tilts his head to examine me. “You know, after centuries of doing this, it still surprises me where I find Shadows.”
Shadows? What the hell?
“It’s what we Shadow Reapers refer to as the half-dead ones,” he explains, as if reading my confused thoughts. “You know, people like you are technically dead, but technically not.” He straightens his stance. “And I know what you’re thinking: just how many times does this”—he waves a finger in my direction—“sort of thing happen?” His hand lowers to his side. “Quite a bit, actually. At least enough that we have terminology for it.”
I stare at the guy. Well, at least I think I do. Is he for real? I’ve never met a Shadow Reaper before, so I’m not sure if his nonchalant attitude is a typical reaction.
Voices abruptly float from outside the dumpster, and he sighs. “That’s our cue to go.” He hops from the bags and sinks into the muck that surrounds me. “I’d introduce myself, but we really don’t have time for that.”
He wades through the trash toward me, pulling a face at an old pair of underwear lying on top of a trash bag.
“Now, I’m going to get this immobile spell lifted off of you and free your spirit from your body. As for your body itself, there’s not much I can do. The police are going to show up and probably haul it off to the morgue. Eventually, the Guardians will show up and take it to their morgue where they normally preserve the body for a while. But considering the boss in charge over there did this to you, I’m thinking this isn’t go
ing to work out in your favor, and your body might be dumped pretty quickly.”
He stops at my side and places a hand on my chest. “I can offer you some advice, though. Once your spirit is free, you still have some waiting time when you’ll just be roaming around earth. During that time, if you can manage to make it to the center of the Forest of Shadow and Bones, you’ll get the chance to reunite with your body.”
I’ve heard of the Forest of Shadow and Bones before. Although, from what I understand, finding the place is impossible. Not only is it protected by countless magical charms, but almost every deadly creature lives there.
“I can’t tell you where the forest is. If I did, my boss would kill me. Literally. And considering I’ve seen what happens to you poor bastards after you die ...” He shudders. “Well, I’d rather just not tell you and not die.” He offers me an apologetic smile as his skin begins to smolder and crack apart like embers at the bottom of a fire. “What I can give you is the name of someone who can help you get there.”
I want to nod. I want to scream yes! But all I do is lie there as heat rips through my body, burning me from the inside out. I feel like I’m dying, which doesn’t make any sense because I’m already half-dead. Maybe the other half is dying. He did say he was going to remove my spirit from my body. That means I’m going to die, right?
No! I’m not ready to die! Tell me the name of this person who can help me!
As the fiery pain expands through my body, my eyes roll into the back of my head, and darkness threatens to drag me under. Right as unconsciousness consumes me, I hear the Shadow Reaper whisper two words.
“Find Sway.”
Two
Sway
The lanky, middle-aged guy rocking an oversized trench coat has been standing in the middle of the campus yard for over an hour. I wouldn’t think too much about it; except, the entire time he’s been staring at me like a total creeper.
