Torn From the Shadows (17 page)

“How did it go with your dad?”

He raised his head and turned to look at me. “It was him. And just like Oren said, he was killed with silver. Whoever wanted him dead stabbed him over fifty times. His torso was shredded—there was no way he could’ve survived that many cuts by silver.”

“I’m sorry.” I touched the back of his hand quickly. “Did you smell anything?”

“No, the silver was too overpowering. Besides, too much time had gone by.” He shrugged. “While I was at the cop shop, I caught up with one of my old buddies—a guy who attended the academy with me but actually stayed a cop. He’s not on the case, but did manage to show me the murder weapon.”

“It was left behind for the cops to find?”

Papan nodded and exhaled loudly. “I think whoever killed him
wanted
the weapon to be found, but not just that. The killer counted on the human cops finding his body. The relevance of the silver won’t mean anything to them, but it does to any wolf who finds out about it. The knife was left embedded in his heart, like a trophy.”

“That’s terrible,” I whispered. Who would do something so barbaric? And who could be strong enough to corner, surprise, and then stab such a big man so many times? “Do you think he knew the killer?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But my father was a crafty and strong man. I find it hard to believe anyone could get him easily.”

“He knew someone was after him, though.”

“Yeah, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to draft the will and leave all of his crap in my hands,” Papan said.

“You didn’t run into Gareth, did you?” I knew he was scheduled to work a few nights this week.

“Actually, I did.” He looked away. “He was trying to avoid me, but I caught up with him.”

“What did you want to see him about?” I knew exactly what he’d want to say to him.

Papan squeezed his right hand shut. “We had an overdue conversation.”

“Did this conversation involve fists?”

“You know I like to get physical.”

“Papan…” I grabbed his closed fist and found the knuckles were red, already healing from what had no doubt been bloody and bruised skin. “What did you do?”

“I did what had to be done.”

“He’s a cop. He can make things hard for you.”

“There’s no need to worry,” he said with a shake of his head. “I took care of it. There’s no way he’s going to bother you again. If he does, he’ll have to answer to me.”

“He’s a valuable friend to all of us.” Having a policeman on our side had helped a lot during the last few months. It was mutually beneficial, and I didn’t want to lose the advantage.

“He’ll still be a friend, only this time he won’t step outside those boundaries.”

There was no point in arguing about this. I couldn’t tell Papan how to behave or how to deal with his emotions, which reminded me of something. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about the pack, now that your father’s gone?” My heart pounded fast, because for some reason I kept expecting the worst.

He looked me in the eye and even though he said, “Not yet,” I had a feeling he’d made some sort of decision he wasn’t ready to disclose. “Why are you bleeding?”

“I’m not bleeding,” I said.

Papan touched my face and pointed at my sleeve. “There’s blood on you.”

“Oh,” I said, remembering Henry. “It’s not mine.”

He sniffed my sleeve and face before nodding. “Whose is it?”

I sighed. “It’s from Henry Sallas.”

“The guy you met at the diner? I thought you were going to have a civilized conversation, not stab him to death.” His eyes were dark and he stepped closer. “Did he try to do something? Try to lure you into the Council?”

“No, nothing like that.” Not really. “It was Vixen. She shot him while we were talking at the diner.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope, and then she must’ve followed me home.” I couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t just shot me as well. Until I recalled the bullet had just missed me.

“What did he want anyway?”

“That’s a problem for another day.”

He didn’t push, just nodded. “Let’s get her inside the house.”

“Yeah, I know the perfect place to put the bitch.”

“This place is remarkable.” Oren ran his pale fingers over the niches on the wall, pausing long enough to examine a few dusty candles before placing them back inside their arched slots. “When did you find it?”

“I stumbled upon it a few days ago.” I couldn’t help wondering when Penny would make an appearance. I didn’t want to dump an unconscious, naked woman—Vixen had changed back—in this room without her knowing. Not after her previous reaction.

Oren had drawn a chalk circle on the concrete floor and closed it off with crystals. He said it would keep Vixen trapped inside even after the tranquilizer wore off. I wasn’t sure where we were going to put her when she eventually regained consciousness, but she wasn’t leaving this concrete box until she answered my questions. She couldn’t kill a man, attack me, and get away with it.

Vixen has some explaining to do.

“Incredible,” Oren whispered. He couldn’t keep his hands off the walls. Could he feel my grandmother’s presence within this rectangular room? “Pepita was a remarkable woman. I didn’t realize she’d constructed something so beautiful, so sacred.”

“So you’ve never been in here?” I thought that after inviting him back into her bed, she might have also showed him this room.

Oren shook his head, causing his braid to sway over his back.

“Grandma was a woman with many secrets.” I hadn’t read her journal yet, but I still suspected she’d kept spook catching after getting married and becoming a mother. As a single woman, she’d lived somewhere else so this room was constructed during her marriage. Or did Grandma build it so she wouldn’t forget her roots? For all I knew, she could have built it to teach me. Did she keep catching until she got sick? I had so many questions.

“A woman as resourceful as Pepita had to keep secrets,” Oren said.

“So you did know she kept this room?”

He shook his head again. “I had no idea, but I’m not surprised. Some things never die.”

“So, we’re going to keep Vixen here tonight, and then what?” Papan asked. He stood beside me, but had seemed distracted since our conversation outside.

I wanted to know what he was thinking, but between Oren healing Freddy—the scratches weren’t deep—and having to deal with Vixen, we hadn’t had any more time alone. Luckily, Willow had retired to her bedroom with Freddy in tow, giving the three of us some time to try and figure this out.

“We have to think of something,” I said. I’d already told Oren and Papan exactly what happened at Monster Coffee Break. “As much as I like the idea of keeping Vixen locked up, I don’t want her in my house indefinitely. Just long enough to tell us why she attacked me after killing the councilor.”

Oren looked at her, his brow furrowed. “She’s a danger to the outside world. We don’t know how long she’s been shifting.”

“I doubt this was her first time,” Papan said.

“She’s got to be working with Mace, there’s no other explanation.” Yeah, I’d also filled him in on the
“Mace Is A Phantom”
headline. Oren wasn’t happy about me not telling him straightaway, but with everything that was going on, he cut me some slack. Besides, he was too focused on this secret room.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Papan said, shaking his head.

“Neither do I, but who else would want to stop me from getting rid of the dangerous energy in the Tower?” Only Mace. He was really good at getting others to do his dirty work for him.

“I can’t help but wonder if this is an
Obscurus
angle…” Oren said, scratching his chin.

“Who knows?” I said with a shrug.

Oren sighed. “Either way, I think we should all get some rest and deal with this tomorrow.”

Papan looked thoughtful, his eyes narrowed and glaring down at Vixen.

“What is it?” I asked, entwining my fingers with his.

“I might have an idea about what to do with her, but I need to think it through.”

My stomach sank but I didn’t say anything, just enjoyed the weight of his fingers around mine.

When we turned to follow Oren, who was already at the foot of the concrete stairs, Penny appeared. Her familiar frame flashed in front of us. She now looked clearer—more like a sharp apparition than the barely there dusty version I’d first spotted.

“For all that is holy, what are you doing here?” Oren asked, almost breathless.

“You know Penny?”

“I thought you were lost…”

So he
did
know her. “Oren, do you know Penny?”

Oren turned to me. “This is…” He looked mesmerized, turning his attention back to the floating spirit before him.

“What’s going on?” Papan whispered, leaning closer.

“I have no idea.” I touched Oren’s elbow, but he ignored me. “Oren!”

“Pepita, you’ve been here all along?”

Now I was really confused, but Penny seemed to recognize him.

“Oren, it’s been too long,” she said, a smile curving her lips.

“You two have to stop talking in code.” I let go of Papan’s hand and stepped between the spirit and the witch, trying to figure out how and why they knew each other. And why he was calling her
Pepita
.

“Sierra, we were wrong.” The huge smile made Oren appear years younger, almost like he’d found something he’d lost long ago. “Your grandmother’s been trapped within these walls all along.”

I shook my head. “Oren, this isn’t my grandmother. This is a ghost I used to know when I was a kid. We were friends—she’d died years before I was born, but no one ever understood me as well as she did.”

“No, Sierra, this is her.”

“I saw both of my grandparents being dragged away by the shadows, so don’t you dare tell me I don’t know where they are.” A feathery touch upon my shoulder made me turn, so I was looking up at Penny’s pretty face.

“Let me explain this,” Penny said, looking past me. “Oren, she’s right. I’m not who you think I am.”

“Yes, it
is
you.” He looked mystified. “You look the way you did when we were so happy, when nothing else mattered in this world but being together.”

“Oh, Oren, I’m so sorry.” Penny floated closer to him, passing right through me. “I’m not the woman you loved, but I
am
an imprint of her very soul. It’s why you recognize me, why I look so much like her.”

What was she saying? “Hold on a second, you’re an imprint of my grandmother? How is that possible?” Even after Penny told me what she was, I’d never thought she could be something Grandma had left behind.
 

Oren rubbed the back of his head. “That’s why she wanted to know, why she insisted I teach her how to do this. She made a guardian from herself, didn’t she?”

Penny nodded. “It took her years, but I’m the successful result and I’ve been inside this room since the day she died.”

I remembered now. Penny had simply vanished shortly after my Grandma’s untimely passing, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. “What’re you saying?” I wasn’t sure who I was asking, but it looked like either one of their answers would do.

“Pepita wanted to know how to make a deliberate imprint of herself, and I taught her. It’s a long and tedious task involving a lot of work, spells, and the ability to astral project.” He looked at Penny with a smile. “She was capable of doing all of them, and it looks like she succeeded in making a wonderful copy of herself.”

“Why would she want to do that?”

“She wanted to protect you,” Penny answered.

“How could you protect me when you’ve been trapped in here?”

Oren shook his head. “I taught her years before she met Javier…”

“Yes, she made me before you were even born, Sierra. My job was to protect you. You and I became best friends and I helped when you thought no one else would understand. When she died, she knew this room had to be kept a secret, so I was given a new task. She intended to take care of you even after her death, but I get the feeling that didn’t happen.”

I shook my head. “She’s lost, but I’m going to find her.”
As soon as I come across a kid to dangle in front of the shadow monsters, she’ll finally be free.

“Yes, you need to find her.” Penny brushed her hand against my cheek.

“It’s unbelievable, you’re exactly like her.” Oren stepped closer. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

Papan crept closer, grabbed my hand and dragged me back beside him. “Why don’t we give them a minute?”

As much as the thought of them being alone made me feel uneasy, I nodded.

Neither noticed when we began to ascend the stairs, and I wondered if Penny had retained
all
of my grandmother’s memories.

I stopped in midstride and asked, “Why Penny? Why did she call you Penny?”

“Pepita used to call herself Penny when she was very young,” she said with a sad smile. “The other kids made fun of her name, even though most couldn’t even pronounce it. She eventually accepted it as her own, but Penny was a name that helped her while growing up in a country where she was considered different.”