Shadow Seer Read online

  Shadow Seer

  Scythe Grove Academy #1

  Laura Greenwood

  Contents

  Keep Up To Date

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Find Out Your Grove

  Author Note

  Also by Laura Greenwood

  About the Author

  © 2021 Laura Greenwood

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address; [email protected].

  Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:

  www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk

  Cover by Taurus Cover Designs

  Shadow Seer is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Keep Up To Date

  To keep up to date with new releases, sales, and other updates, you can join my mailing list via my website or The Paranormal Council Reader Group on Facebook.

  To everyone who was never sorted into a House at school, may you be able to pick one now! And for everyone who was put into a House at school, may you pick another.

  To all my fellow students past and present who were sorted into Hutton House at RGS.

  And to Anna, Naomi, and Liam, who made my school days so memorable and who I love dearly.

  Blurb

  I can see ghosts. I've always been able to do it but never known why. The people who raised me claimed they had no idea either.

  * * *

  It isn't until I'm taken to Scythe Grove Academy that I learn the truth. I'm a reaper. More specifically, I'm a seer, someone who can see and talk to the dead to help them to move on.

  * * *

  But the organisation who raised me aren't keen on letting me go. I may be more than human, but to them, I'm nothing more than a playing piece. Now all I need to do is stay out of their clutches.

  -

  Shadow Seer is book one of the paranormal academy series, Scythe Grove Academy. It includes a slow burn m/f romance.

  Chapter One

  Why are there always ghosts everywhere?

  The spectral figure hangs out in my peripheral vision. I try to ignore it. If I look too closely, it'll start talking to me about things I don't understand.

  Even worse, it'll ask me to help it. And that just leads to more problems. Like how, why, and how again. I may want to help, but I don't know how.

  I duck my head lower and pull my jacket closer to me against the chill air. I'm not sure when it got so cold, but I don't want to be out here any longer than I need to be. Especially as there are fewer ghosts at home.

  More coldness, though. No one there cares about me. I'm nothing more than an orphan who ended up there by accident and now all anyone sees me as is a burden.

  I used to dream that I'd be able to leave when I was eighteen, but instead, everyone is assuming I'm going to take the Shadow Oath, whatever that is. They haven't done much to explain it to me.

  "Oi, don't ignore me!" one of the ghosts shouts.

  I sigh and turn to face it. I could try and ignore the frustrating creatures, but I've learned from experience that just leads to them following me and shouting at me more. As far as I can tell, no one else can see them. Or maybe they can and they know how to ignore them better.

  I'd ask someone, but I don't want to be labelled crazy when I know I'm not.

  "What do you want?" I ask the ghost. "I can't help you."

  "You're supposed to help me," it responds, coming sharper into focus as it floats towards me. "That's your job."

  Now the apparition is closer, I can make out her features. Her hair waves around her head in a way that has nothing to do with the wind. I've seen it before, it seems to be a quirk of the ghostly.

  "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about a job. I really can't help you." I bite my bottom lip, trying not to let my frustration get the better of me. How is this happening again? I just want to mind my own business and not get accosted by ghosts at every turn.

  "Reapers today," she mutters. "You have no work ethic."

  I frown, trying to make sense of what she's saying. "What did you call me?" I ask.

  "It's not a bad word, it's what you're called," she insists, crossing her arms and glaring at me.

  "Technically I'm called Syxe."

  "Pfft. What kind of name is that?"

  "The only one I was given," I point out. Why is she being so snippy with me if she wants my help? I'd have thought she'd want to stay on my good side so I'll change my mind.

  "Fair enough. My parents chose Agatha for me. I always hated it."

  "I think it's pretty."

  What am I doing? Engaging with the ghost isn't going to get me out of this situation any faster. And I need to get home before curfew, I dread to think what will happen if I don't.

  "You're lying."

  "I don't lie," I counter.

  "And yet you're refusing to help me," the ghost says.

  "Only because I can't."

  "Then you should learn," Agatha says in a matter-of-fact tone that's starting to become frustrating.

  "I don't know how to do that either." It's not like anyone at the Shadow Association is going to start teaching me how to deal with ghosts. I doubt they even know they exist.

  "Hmm. We'll have to see what we can do about that." She turns and floats away without another word.

  I bite my tongue to stop myself from calling out after her. I don't want to engage with her further, but she seems to know something about me that I don't. Not that it's hard. I know next to nothing about where I come from.

  I turn around and start making my way through the streets with my head bowed.

  What is the ghost called me?

  Reaper.

  I know they exist. Everyone does. But I can't be one. Can I?

  How do I find out whether or not I am?

  I push the thought aside. I can think about it all day, but that's not going to help me. No one at home is going to know anything about it. They refuse to talk about the supernaturals who live among us humans at all. I'm not sure why it's such a taboo subject, but no matter how many questions I ask, I never get any answers.

  The cool wind sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me how late it is and that I need to get back before curfew. If I'm not careful, I'll end up on dish duty for a week.

  I hurry down the streets, ignoring the other people also hurrying to their destinations. None of them stop to acknowledge any of the ghosts who are floating around the space, which isn't surprising. Most people don't seem to be able to see them.

  Before long, the building I reluctantly call home appears in front of me, an imposing structure even if it looks exactly like the buildings on each side.

  I check my watch, relieved to see it's still five minutes until curfew. As much as I don't want to, I hurry up to the front door and slip inside. I don't want to linger outside and risk them locking the doors.

  I kick off
my shoes and place them into the spot with my name on, swapping them for my indoor shoes. I check up and down the hall to check there's no one around. I don't want to talk to anyone if I can avoid it. They'll only ask where I've been and there isn't an answer anyone will be happy with. Most of the older people in the house believe this is the best place to be at all times. They only leave when they have to go to work.

  I can't stand the idea of living that way for the rest of my life.

  The third stair creaks as I make my way up. I wince, but reassure myself that everyone knows the floorboard is loose and they probably don't think anything of it.

  I slip back into the dorm room without gaining anyone's attention. The other girls don't really care what I do. I've never clicked with any of them the way they have with one another, so they tend to just leave me to it. Which I can easily get on board with. It means less scrutiny all the time.

  I strip off my clothes and fold them neatly, placing them on the shelves by my bed and pull on my pyjamas instead. I don't own much, just a few sets of clothing and a couple of books. Nothing of any particular interest other than it belongs to me.

  Now I'm back home, it's better to be comfortable.

  "Did you hear, Syxe?" Annalise says.

  I turn around, surprised she's talking to me.

  "No. What happened?"

  "They're planning on organising our Shadow Oath next month," she says, excitement coming through her voice.

  "That's good," I say flatly. I'm mostly filled with dread over the idea. Once I've sworn the oath, I'm sure I'll never be able to leave.

  Which means I have to figure a way out of here in the next couple of weeks or face being trapped here forever.

  Chapter Two

  The streets are almost empty this early in the morning. But this is the earliest I've been able to get out of the house after a restless night. I hate the idea of taking the Shadow Oath, and the more I think about it, the more certain I become that it's not the right thing for me to do.

  But refusing isn't really an option either. I don't think anyone ever has. At least not anyone I've ever heard of.

  I push the thought to the side, worried about where it will take me. I'm going to have to figure it out. Very few of the over eighteen at the house look particularly happy with their lives, and I don't want to become one of that number.

  Not that I know how to stop that happening. I feel like I'm stuck, but I don't know why.

  I glance up, surprised to find I've come to the same spot where I saw Agatha yesterday. I'm not sure why I'm back here when there was nothing I could do to help her before, but the word reaper has been running around my head since I got into bed last night.

  What am I thinking in coming here? A ghost isn't going to give me any answers. None of them have ever done anything helpful before, but maybe this time is different.

  I glance around, trying to find the telltale signs of a ghostly presence. This is the first time I've actively looked for one. Most of the time I try to avoid making any kind of contact with them so I don't have to engage in frustrating conversations.

  There's nothing. I'm not sure where Agatha or any of the others I have gone. Normally I can spot ghosts wherever I am, I've never had a problem with not being able to find them.

  An old abandoned building on my left beckons to me for unknown reasons. I don't question the feeling too closely and follow my instinct to go inside. I'm not sure what's making me so reckless today. Maybe it's the impending Shadow Oath and the thought that I'll never be able to get free from whatever the people in the Association have over me. I truly wish I knew what it is.

  A broken floorboard creaks as I step on it and enter. Things rattle all over the house, making it clear that it's in a truly awful state of repair. The rooms don't have any furnishings, which suggests it wasn't abandoned by people who were actually living here at the time.

  "Hello?" I call out.

  Unsurprisingly, no one responds. I'm not sure what's happened to all of the ghosts around here, but they're definitely gone.

  A door slams behind me and I jump out of my skin. Maybe I should give up on the idea of sleuthing around and trying to uncover things myself. I'm clearly not good at it.

  But I want to find Agatha and find out what she knows. It almost seems as if she knows things about me that could help me understand my past. And make decisions about my future.

  I side-eye the stairs, not entirely sure whether or not I trust them to hold my weight when I go up them. It's not like I'm particularly heavy or anything, but they don't look stable enough to have anyone go up them.

  I push aside a curtain covering a doorway, sending plumes of dust into the air. Some of it gets caught in my throat and I have to cough a few times to clear it.

  "Hello, Syxe. I wondered when you'd be back," Agatha says from behind me.

  I spin around.

  She floats a few feet away, looking the same as she did before.

  "This used to be my house, you know? My children cleared it out after I died. But they missed something."

  "Is that why you're still here?" I'm not sure what makes me ask the question, but it feels right to.

  "It's why I need a reaper's help. I assume that's why you're here," she says.

  "I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're talking about. I'm not a reaper."

  She raises an eyebrow. "Then how are you talking to me?"

  "I've always been able to see ghosts."

  "Have you never thought about why?"

  "Every day," I admit.

  "So there's a chance you are a reaper?" Agatha prompts.

  I frown. Now she's saying it like this, I suppose it makes sense. But surely I should know if I'm a supernatural creature? They aren't exactly a secret. I don't understand how I can have gone eighteen years without finding out I'm more than human.

  "Maybe I just have reaper ancestors?" I suggest.

  "Perhaps." She doesn't seem convinced.

  I'm about to question her further when the front door swings open and two people a little older than I step inside, searching around for something.

  Both of them have scythes peeking out from over their shoulders

  The woman's eyes land on me, a confused expression on her face. "I'm sorry, we didn't realise someone else was reaping here. There were a lot of ghosts the other day."

  "I'm sorry, what?" I'm too taken aback to be able to make sense of what she's saying.

  "Why were there so many ghosts around if this is your territory?" the guy with her asks. "And where is your porter?"

  "My what? I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying."

  "She says she's not a reaper," Agatha says.

  The guy responds, but the woman doesn't.

  "She doesn't know she's a reaper," he supplies to her. "That's what the ghost said, anyway."

  "I have a name," Agatha protests.

  "She's called Agatha," I say, feeling as if that's what the apparition wants me to do.

  A satisfied smile spreads over Agatha's face. At least I got that right.

  The two reapers exchange a knowing glance with one another. I wish I could tell what's going through their heads.

  "Agatha says she needs a reaper so she can find something her children left in the house," I supply as the silence between the four of us grows. "But that's all I know."

  "Let me talk to the ghost," the guy says. "You talk to the girl."

  I bite my tongue to stop myself from pointing out that I have a name. Especially as there's a chance these people may have answers I need.

  The woman nods and makes her way over to me while the guy focuses on Agatha.

  "I'm Dani," she says. "Are you sure you're not a reaper?"

  I shake my head. "I don't think I'm anything more than human." But now she's asking me outright, I have to wonder if they're all right. One person suggesting it is one thing, but three? Two of whom are reapers. That's starting to become a little more than a coincidence.

  She d
igs into her bag and pulls out a pen and notepad. "Will you write down your contact information for me?" She offers them to me.

  I hesitate for a moment, but my curiosity gets the better of me. "Why?" I take the pen and paper, jotting down my name and the address of the Shadow Association headquarters. It's potentially risky to give it to anyone, but there's no other way of contacting me. And I suspect calls to my phone are more monitored than someone turning up at the house or a letter.

  "We'll have to include this in a report when we get back to the academy. It'll be easier to find you if we have your information."

  I narrow my eyes. I don't know why they might need to get in contact with me, but I'm willing to take the risk. I do want to do something that gets me away from the Association and the expectations there. I'm not sure if this is it, but it has promise.

  And if it gets me answers about who I am, then all the better.

  Chapter Three

  "You have mail," Annalise says, dropping an envelope onto my bed.

  "Thanks." My pulse races with anticipation but I keep my eyes away from the letter. If I seem too excited about it, Annalise or one of the others will start asking too many questions and it won't be long until someone higher up gets a hold of the information and does something permanent about it.

  "Hrumf." She disappears off in a huff when she realises I'm not about to open it right in front of her.

  I still don't reach for the letter and try to focus on what I'm reading instead. My eyes skip over the words, not taking any of them in. I want to grab the letter and tear it open already.