Shadow Silence (20 page)

“Some nights, the best thing in the world is reheated pizza and pot stickers.” I closed my eyes, biting into one of the thick rolls. I loved the slightly greasy feel, the taste of the vegetables and pork mixing together along with the crispy wrapper.

At that moment, Daphne decided to join us on the table. She landed with a thud, grabbed one of the pot stickers, and took off, racing across the kitchen floor. I jumped up.

“That can't be that good for cats,” I said, racing behind her. I finally cornered her, and she growled as I snatched the food from beneath her paw. “You have your own food. You don't need people food.” I dumped the pot sticker in the garbage—it was gnawed on, and while I might have eaten it if I was alone, I wasn't going to do that in front of Peggin and Bryan. I refilled the cat food bowls and returned to the table. “How are Frith and Folly handling their new home?”

“They seem to be doing fine. They're happy to be out of the kennel, that's for sure.” Peggin's face clouded over. “I just wish I had never found out I needed to move. Everything feels like it's ruined. I loved my life and the house I was renting. Now I'm scared and hoping I can keep myself alive.” She frowned, staring at the table. “I don't suppose either one of you has a time machine I can borrow? I'd go back, tell my landlady I'd pay extra rent to stay there, and hope she agreed.”

“Hey, why don't you try that? Call her up, see what she says.” I gave her a hopeful look.

“Because I can't
afford
double rent, and I've got a year's payments to make on the Foggy Downs house, whether or not I live there. And you know that I'm not going to find anybody to sublet. Nobody in their right mind would touch . . .”
She trailed off, blushing. “I guess I'm not in my right mind, am I?”

Wanting to put a halt to the painful self-reflection she was going through, I held up my hand. “Stop. That's enough. I know this puts you in a bind, but we're going to figure a way out. From both that damned mark on your wrist, and from the financial pickle you're in. I refuse to let you flounder in this by yourself. We're best friends and we stick together. Do you hear me?”

She nodded, pressing her lips together. But at least there was a faint smile there.

“Good. Then enough on the angst. Maybe . . . I'll talk to your Realtor and see if there's some way you can get out of the lease. I'm good at persuading people.” I wasn't, but at least I could give it a try. “I'm surprised you don't try—you charm men like the back of your hand.”

“Jack is gay. He's not going to be wrapped around my finger, and before you ask, yes, he has a child. He was married before he came out. His wife was so hurt by his news that she ran off and left their kid with him. Now he and his new partner are double-dads.”

Bryan laughed. “Yeah, good try, Kerris, but Peggin's charms, as remarkable as they are, won't fly with someone like that. Why don't you let me have a talk with him? I'm sure that we can come to some agreement. Give me his name and I'll call him tomorrow.”

“That's wonderful . . . I appreciate your help. But that still means I have to find a new place to live.” She stabbed another pot sticker. “Stupid rentals. I hate being at the mercy of somebody else's whims.”

“We'll find you a place. Now can we eat and then head out? I don't want to be late. Starlight gives me nasty looks, like I don't care enough to be on time. I'd like to . . .” I stopped, looking up to see both Peggin and Bryan laughing aloud. My lip starting to twist into a frown, I finally stopped and laughed with them. Who was I kidding? Starlight was
the prom queen mean girl, and I was the geek in the corner. That's the way it had been in high school, and that's the way it was going to stay, it seemed.

*   *   *

B
y the time we reached the meeting, it was starting to snow. Little flakes, very patchy, but nonetheless, it was snowing and I was delighted. I loved snow, and wished that we got more of it, but at least here in Whisper Hollow a few inches usually arrived every year and stuck for a few weeks, and that was generally enough to satisfy my snow-bunny urge.

The meetings were held at Niles's. Niles Vandyke was the main mechanic in Whisper Hollow and he owned a large garage. Below the garage, through a hidden entrance, was an entire level given over to the Crescent Moon Society. The first time I had been escorted to a meeting, I felt a little like Batman heading into the Batcave. It was all very clandestine, but it was also a necessity, given the ferocity and viciousness of the Hounds. They had killed before; they wouldn't hesitate to kill again.

The Morrígan and Cú Chulainn had a long-standing feud, and the Hounds, who were dedicated to the warrior god himself, took it upon themselves to go after the followers of the Morrígan and try to subvert them at every turn possible. On the other hand, the sons and daughters of the Morrígan pretty much left everybody alone—barring the spirits. Unless we were defending ourselves. Which, at least in Whisper Hollow, we seemed to be doing on a regular basis. The Hounds were responsible for my mother's death, and my father's death, and a number of others who had gotten in the way.

As we passed the guards watching over the front of Niles's shop, they nodded us by. Gareth was sitting there. The older biker looked as tough as he was, with a number of scars to his credit. He was a
fixer
 . . . he took care of problems for Sophia Castillo, the chief of police, that the police couldn't officially intervene in. Sophia couldn't be part of the Crescent
Moon Society, but she knew about us and had her fingers in the pie via one of her officers, Frank O'Conner. He worked with Gareth on the side. I wasn't sure exactly what Gareth did, but I knew that it involved some rough stuff, at times, and if I wanted someone to back me up, besides Bryan, the first place I would run would be to him.

As we entered the janitor's closet, Peggin shut the door behind us. I walked over to the back wall and pressed the second coat hook from the left. A panel slid open, and we were facing a hidden staircase. The railings helped, but the steps were at a steep incline and every time we came to a meeting, I was afraid I'd go sprawling face-first down the spiraling staircase and knock out a tooth or maybe scramble my brain.

But we descended the forty steps without incident to find ourselves in a large chamber. Two doors were placed opposite each other, on either side. In the center of the room, sitting on another stool, was Michael Brannon, the owner of the Broom & Thistle. He was holding a long sword, razor sharp, which he knew how to use with precision. One wrong move and boom, slice and dice.

“Are we late?” I asked. I usually was, and I'd started to think it was a subconscious reaction to Starlight—a little late every time just to needle her.

“For once, no.” Michael nodded to the door on the right. “Go on in.”

We entered the room to find a long table with chairs on all sides. Starlight was there, as was Frank. Ellia and Ivy were there, though I didn't see Oriel anywhere. Trevor, from the Vintage Bookstore, was there. Tonya Pajari—a fortune-teller—was already there, but she spoke up, saying Nathan, her husband and an ex-military man, was home sick with the flu and wouldn't be able to make it. Clinton Brady, the owner of the Fogwhistle Pub, across from the Foggy Downs subdivision where Peggin's house was, was sitting in a corner chair, nursing a beer. Nadia from the steakhouse hadn't arrived, and neither had Prague, from the Herb & Essence.

I settled into a chair, with Bryan on one side and Peggin on my other. I motioned to Ellia and she came around the table. Everybody else was chatting as we waited for the rest to arrive.

“I have some things I need to ask the Society tonight. Can you put me on the agenda?”

She frowned. “Ask Starlight. It's time you two dealt with your discomfort and started acting your ages.” And with that, she abruptly returned to her seat.

I groaned. But Ellia was right, and beyond that—Ellia made it clear she wasn't going to act as a go-between any longer. Pushing back my chair, I reluctantly sauntered up to Starlight, who was busy poring over a page that looked jammed full of notes. I pulled out the chair next to her and, unasked, sat down.

“Hey, Starlight.” I tried to keep my voice pleasant.

She jerked her head up, looking either annoyed or startled. I wasn't sure which. “What do you need, Kerris?”

“I need some time on the agenda. We've had several serious incidents today, one of them involving the Lady. We also have information on the Ankou, if Ellia hasn't told you yet.”

She glanced over the sheet of paper. “Well, we have a full agenda tonight, but I'll fit you in. And yes, Ellia made certain to pencil in time for you. Why don't you just segue both issues together, for good measure?” She sounded surprisingly accommodating. As she glanced up, she must have seen my confusion. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head. “I just didn't think . . .” I paused. There was no good way to say I thought she'd try to blow me off because she didn't like me. “Never mind. By the way, I met Veronica. I have information from her about the Ankou in the forest, as well.”

“Good. It's important to keep relations with her on as even a keel as possible.” She paused, then met my gaze, the harried irritation falling away. “I've never met her—she
refuses to meet with anyone except the spirit shaman and her triad. Tell me . . . what's she like?”

A tremor filled her voice, almost reverent, and I realized that Starlight Williams was in awe of both the spirits of Whisper Hollow . . . and, by default, me. As we stared at each other, I could see that—behind the professional rich bitch—there was an insecure, wonder-filled woman inside her. I knew that Starlight had her own magic, but I didn't know exactly what it was. I figured it was time to find out.

“Veronica's frightening, to be honest. She's like . . . Morticia Addams meets Countess Báthory, I kind of think.” That brought something else to mind. “Do you know why Jonah—the undertaker—was in the graveyard? I thought maybe he was checking out a spot, but I haven't heard that anybody died the past few days.”

Starlight looked surprised. “No, actually. There haven't been any deaths that I know of. Not since . . . who was it that the Lady took a week or so ago?”

“Hudson Jacks. I did the ceremony to hand him over to Penelope, so he shouldn't be a problem. I was just wondering. Jonah is . . .” I paused, not knowing Starlight's relationship with the undertaker. But she just laughed.

“Jonah is a freak. Trust me, I wish his uncle was still alive. He was a good man, and he loved his job—as much as you can love a job like that. He respected his clients, both the families and the dead. I don't think I feel comfortable around Jonah.” Starlight let out a little shudder.

I nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. Do you think we need to watch him?”

“Watch him? For what?” But even though she blew off the question, I could tell that I'd struck a chord, which was all I had hoped to do. Something about Jonah didn't track right with me, and I didn't want to be the only one thinking about the matter.

At that moment, Oriel and Prague entered the room, followed by Gareth and Nadia.

“We're all here now, as far as those who can make it tonight, so let's get this show on the road,” Starlight said, pounding her mini-gavel for order. “We have a full agenda and I don't want to be here past midnight if we can help it. Zachary has a test coming up and we want him well rested.”

Nobody said a word. Everybody in town knew that Starlight's son Zachary was trouble on legs. So far, he'd managed to get out of all his screw-ups with just a slap on the wrist, given who his mother was. One of these days, though, he was going to pull the wrong stunt on the wrong person.

“Take your seats, please. Come to order. Nadia, will you please read the minutes from our last meeting?” Without further ado, we were into minutes and agendas, and I settled back, ignoring most of the chatter, until it was my turn to talk.

Fifteen minutes later, Starlight's gavel sounded again and she said, “Tonight, Kerris has several matters to present to the group. Kerris, please tell us what you have to say.”

I cleared my throat, took a sip of water, and stood. I found that people paid more attention to me when I was standing up. I launched into seeing the forest Fae, and what it had told me, then—with Ivy's help—related our trip out to Timber Peak. I then went on to tell them as much as I could about my meeting with Veronica and what she had told me about the witch bottles.

“But we have another problem, that goes beyond the Ankou. Today, the Lady tried to take Peggin.”

That stopped the whispers. Everybody turned to stare at Peggin, who grimaced. She usually didn't mind being the center of attention, but this wasn't exactly the same thing as being at a party. As I launched into what we had found out about the house, and the fact that the beams belonged to the
Maria Susanna
, and that Joseph Jacobs, the builder of the ship, had been a member of the Crescent Moon Society, the room grew very still. I finished, laying everything on the table.

“I'm wondering if we have any records of who might have been in that boat with Jacobs? And whether there had
been any attempts made on his life before that. If he had discovered the Hounds were running a still, and threatened to call the police . . . well . . . that might be enough right there for them to go after him.”

Clinton Brady slowly cleared his throat. “Joseph Jacobs was my great-great-uncle. My mother used to talk about how he disappeared, and how his ship had been taken by the Lady. Nobody ever mentioned the ship being found, or the wood being used. This is the first I've heard of it, and now you've got me wanting to know more. He's been missing for almost one hundred years. I'd like to be able to bring him home and put him to rest, if it's possible.”