Shadow Silence Read Free

from antique parts and updated it, just like he had made the rest of his outfit.
    But there was nothing
precious
or prima donna about him. He was dead serious about his art. When we first met, I wasn’t sure whether he was just odd or scary-crazy. Turns out, a little bit of both. But he was as sane as anybody who lived in Whisper Hollow.
    â€œHey, Deev,” I said, sliding into the booth. Bryan followed, and Ellia swung a chair around from one of the tables to sit at the end. “How goes it?”
    Deev cocked his head to the side. Somehow, he always managed to keep his hat on perfectly straight. “Jokney got out today. I still haven’t found him.”
    Bryan cleared his throat and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Jokney was a sculpture of a doglike creature that Deev had built from shiny chrome scraps, black leather, and some sort of fur that he’d gotten off an old fur coat from the vintage clothing shop.
    At times, Dr. Divine’s artwork took on a life of its own and went wandering around the town till he rounded it up and carted it back to his house. This usually didn’t present a problem, except when it was some nightmarish vision he’d had. Those, he usually kept locked away against the chance that they, too, might decide to wake up and go out for a little walk.
    â€œHave you tried the dog pound?” Ellia asked, her eyes twinkling. She liked the man, that much I could tell from the very beginning.
    â€œNot yet, but that’s on my list for tomorrow if he hasn’t come home.” He leaned back, wrapping an arm around Peggin’s shoulders. At first she was skeptical when Bryan offered to fix them up, but after the first date, they had become an item. They fit. Together they made a startling duo. His crazy met her twisted in a wonderful, weird way.
    I leaned back in my seat and opened the menu, staring at the choices. Everything looked so good. I was starving, as I always was after a night in the graveyard.
    â€œYou’ve been chasing down spirits in the graveyard?” Peggin was studying her own menu.
    â€œYeah, we had to make sure Hudson Jacks didn’t go gallivanting around. You know what happens to the ones taken by the Lady. They tend to wander. Usually they become Haunts, or in some cases, the Unliving, and right now, we don’t need any more of either type around town.”
    There were five paths of the dead.
    My grandma Lila—the spirit shaman of Whisper Hollowbefore I took over when she died—had drilled me on the lessons from the time I was little.
    The Resting Ones were those who had died, but not yet passed through the Veil. They quietly waited for Penelope to come for them and caused no trouble.
    The Mournful Ones were more memory than anything else, reliving their deaths time and again as though on a movie screen. They could be disturbing to watch, but usually had no truck with mortals.
    Wandering Ones wandered far from their graves, traveling the byways, but they, too, ignored humans for the most part. All three of these were rarely a problem, although I did my best to release them so they wouldn’t be caught forever on this side of the Veil.
    The dangerous spirits, though, were another matter. Haunts were active troublemakers and liked to make life uncomfortable for human beings. They were the poltergeists and the spirits who could occasionally shove people down staircases.
    And then, there were the Unliving. The Unliving returned on a corporeal level, and could cause serious harm. They weren’t zombies, not in the movie sense. No, the Unliving were smart and cunning and highly dangerous, especially when rogue. Veronica, the local Queen of the Unliving, kept a tight rein over those she summoned. At some point, I was going to have to visit her lair. All spirit shamans were expected to make some sort of connection with the royalty of the dead.
    â€œHonestly, your night sounds more fun than mine.” Peggin made a