On Pins and Needles: Sierra Fox, Book 3 (38 page)

He was onto something…the only way to deal with this was to hide it.

“He’s right,” I said. “We need to burn the place down.” It was what Carleen Hocking had done to her house, and it seemed to work out all right for her.

“What about the surrounding houses?” Lavie asked, concerned.

“We’ll call it in as soon as we leave.”

“I don’t like this,” she said, shaking her head.
 

“We don’t have time for anything else.” I met her hazel gaze. “We can’t let the police see this when there’s no human way to explain it.” I avoided looking at the scattered, gory pieces of Eli Moss.

Willow was standing over what was left of her father, tears streaming down her cheeks. I headed towards her on unsteady feet. Jonathan might have healed the worst of my injuries, but the cuts on my wrists were still there, and I felt weak from blood loss.
 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t save him.”

“He got himself into this,” she replied. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“Listen, we’re going to have to burn the house down. So if there’s anything you want to grab before it’s all destroyed, go ahead.”

She nodded. I took her hand and we stepped out of the macabre circle together.
 

The area outside was littered with an array of tools. The plastic tubs, so neatly stacked before, had now tumbled, spilling some of their contents. A few had even been tossed across the room.
 

I took the stairs with my sister beside me—numb with relief. It wasn’t until we reached the kitchen and I saw Papan still in wolf form lying on the floor unconscious that I realized some things were never truly over.

I let go of Willow’s hand and reached his side as fast as I could, kneeling so I could check his pulse. “He’s alive!”
Thank God he’s alive.
My head was swimming from the sudden motion but I didn’t care.
 

“What the hell happened to him?” Gareth asked, stepping closer.

“He was attacked,” Vixen answered, appearing on the other side of the open sliding door with Oren behind her. Her face was shiny with sweat and she held onto her left arm, which seemed to be dangling uselessly at her side. The fabric of her sweatshirt was burned as much as the skin beneath it. Her left cheek and scalp were blistered, a bunch of hair burned right off.

I narrowed my eyes. “Who attacked him?” I said to her, and to Oren, “What’re you doing here?”

“Someone called me, but I knew you were up to something,” Oren answered.

I glanced at Lavie, and there was no denying who’d told him where we were. She didn’t look apologetic about it, either. Instead, she shrugged. But it didn’t matter. Right now only one person mattered.
 

“Vixen, what happened to Papan?” I ran a hand over his furry head.

“How the fuck would I know?” she retorted, pointing in my direction with her good arm. “I came around the side of the house after you two went in and followed him into the backyard. I was about to confront him when I heard some growling, and some commotion. This is how I found him, before I was attacked.”

“What did this attacker look like?”

“I don’t know. I already told you that.”

I sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “You didn’t see who you were fighting?”

“That’s right.”

“How did you get burned?”

She shrugged and looked about ready to pass out. If it wasn’t for Oren’s hand on her good arm, I was pretty sure she would already have hit the ground.

I couldn’t spend all afternoon trying to separate fact from fiction. Instead, I thought I’d hand out instructions. “Gareth, I need your help getting Papan out to the van. Lavie, can you go with Willow while she gets a few things? Then we’ll all get together right here and torch the place from the bottom up.”

“You’re going to burn the house down?” Vixen asked.

“Yeah, we are. So you better get outside,” I said.

“Sierra, what happened?” Oren asked, his brow furrowed as he surveyed each of us.
 

I sucked in a quick breath and exhaled, trying to calm my rampant thoughts. So much had happened—where could I start? In the end, I settled for simplicity. “Eli Moss died downstairs, and so did Jonathan. Both of them inside a dark pentagram…” I could only hope he knew exactly what I meant.

Oren looked at me for several quiet moments, and I had no doubt he did. “It’s the only option, then,” he finally said.

“Are you sure?” Lavie asked.

“Positive,” he replied. “And the sooner, the better.”

I turned away so I could concentrate on Papan. He was lying in his wolf form and there were a few bits of bloody, clumped fur on his side. I pressed a hand to his muzzle, patting him and avoiding the blister on his nose. I might still be reeling from the fact a demon had actually come into being through my body, that I’d almost died and been saved by Jonathan, but the only important thing now was to get out of here undetected.

As I prepared to follow my own instructions, I couldn’t help but shiver. An invisible foe had attacked Papan and Vixen—one able to access fire—plus I knew Maya had gotten away. Yet, after this failed attempt at conjuring Legion, I suspected she’d have to deal with the wrath of what was left of the
Obscurus
.

I looked up to find Gareth staring at me. I offered him a weak smile. It was all I could manage. I hadn’t intended for him to get caught up in all this, but hadn’t Maya mentioned something about him having magic within? I decided to push the thought away, because it was something to deal with some other day.

Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

“Are you ready to get him outside?” he asked.

I nodded, but when I made a move to grab Papan’s feet, Gareth pulled him up in a fireman’s carry all on his own.

At least I was going to live another day.
 

Chapter Fourteen

“Wait.” Ebony grabbed my sleeve to stop me from knocking on Roe’s front door. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”

I turned to look at her, surprised. She hadn’t said a word to me since we’d left the church. Not even when we arrived at our destination and I asked if she was all right. All she’d done was stare out the windshield while hugging the duffel bag Lavie had helped her pack, because she’d refused my—
and
Conrad’s—offer to help.
 

I’d told her where I was taking her and why, but she still hadn’t commented or disputed the notion. She seemed a little out of it, and I was afraid to ask any questions about how much she remembered.
 

“Sierra,” she began, licking her lips. “I wanted to say sorry for being such an ass.”

“Don’t worry about it.” After everything we’d been through, I didn’t want an apology. I might not be happy about Maya being MIA, but Papan was okay, Willow seemed to be getting over her loss, Gareth was back to being a police officer, and Lavie had proven herself to be a lot more valuable than I’d expected. And an even better friend.

We’d slammed the door on Legion, and that had to be enough.
 

I’d learned to accept small victories.

“I treated you so badly and you didn’t deserve it.” Ebony’s blue-gray eyes were filled with unshed tears. She always looked so young and vulnerable without makeup, and wearing a skull tee with skinny jeans hanging off her skeletal frame, made her look malnourished. “I was just so lost. After what happened at the Council my body felt disconnected from the rest of me. I never thought something so bad was possible, but there you have it…”

I took her cold hand and squeezed it. “You’re alive, and now you’re going to get help from someone who’s been through something similar. Roe knows what to do to make things better. You know he’s a good guy—he’ll take care of you.” I pushed a loose strand of her long hair behind her ear. “Besides, I wouldn’t leave you here if I didn’t trust him.”

She was still looking at me. “About the vampires, I—”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

A rueful smile spread over her lips. “I heard you were pretty kick-ass in the club.”

“Oh yeah, is Papan telling stories again?”

“No, that cute guy Conrad told me.” She took a breath and exhaled. A faraway look darkened her features.
 

“You still don’t remember him, huh?”

Ebony shook her head. “I can’t remember a single thing about him.”

“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Maybe it’ll all come back soon.” I had to avoid her eyes when I said that because Conrad and Father Luke had pretty much confirmed that any memories Cam erased were lost.

“I hope you’re right,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. “Sometimes when I look at Conrad, I can almost see him…but then I lose the image, and it’s replaced by someone else.”

“By who?” My pulse was racing because I had a pretty good idea who it was.

She shrugged. “Must be my ex—blond hair, tall, and very good looking. I can’t remember his name or much else about him, though.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” The last thing we needed was for her to remember whatever bullshit relationship Cam the vampire fabricated and forced into her head.

“Oh well, at least Conrad seems to want to get to know me again.”

I was glad to hear her positive outlook, so I nodded.

“Are you and me, okay?”

“Yep, we’re more than okay. I’m so happy Father Luke was able to help you.”

“I know. I feel so holy after all those baths in the blessed water.” She looked at the back of her other hand. “I think it’s done wonders for my skin.”

I laughed, but the slightly off-color shade on her skin still bothered me. She might be recovering but she still shared more of Roe’s complexion than I cared to accept. Which reminded me, if we didn’t knock soon, he’d wonder what the hell was going on outside on his doorstep.

“Are you ready to go in?”

Ebony nodded.

After a few knocks, we waited.

“Can you promise me one thing?” I said to Ebony, meeting her gaze.

“What?”

“Promise that you’ll talk to me about whatever problems you have before going off the deep end,” I said, taking a quick breath and hoping I didn’t sound too insensitive. “You could’ve been killed. Or worse, could’ve become one of those bloodsuckers.”

Ebony’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “I promise not to act like an immature brat next time. And just for the record, what happened at the Council wasn’t your fault. You tried to warn me.”

“Hey, we don’t need to get into specifics right now, okay? Just make sure you learned your lesson from this situation.” After coming so close to death, I sure hoped she did. Not just because I cared about her, but because she would no doubt influence Willow in some way.

 
“Ah, Ms. Fox and Ms. Aikan,” Roe said, opening the door. His ashy-tinged skin was something I suspected he’d never lose, but since being away from the Council his hair was no longer greasy and combed flat against his head. His eyes were clear, and a smile seemed permanently stuck on his large mouth. “It’s so nice to see you both. Come in.”

“Sorry about missing our appointment and all of your calls,” I said as he motioned us inside. After missing our appointment two days ago, he’d left about ten messages on my mobile phone and each had sounded a little more concerned, even frantic. After calling back and giving him a very brief version about what was going on, he’d offered to help Ebony. He was positive he had techniques to get her back on track and feeling like herself again, so she’d never slip into such a desperate situation.
 

“She might seem better but a relapse is common,”
he’d said.

He’d been through this many times before, so I had no reason to doubt him. And like I’d said to Ebony, I trusted Roe. He’d always been helpful as the Collector and if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have been able to get out of the Council building last month.

“As long as you’re both all right, that’s all that matters,” he said. Today he was wearing a pair of gray slacks, a white shirt and charcoal-colored cardigan. He looked like a man who had found a new sense of self-pride, and I couldn’t be happier.
 

I followed Ebony into the large entryway, which was painted a burgundy color with paneled ceiling skirting to match the wooden banister. This was a massive Victorian house, though I hadn’t expected anything less for a place in East Serene Hills—the part of town where the wealthier people resided.

“This way,” Roe said, leading us into a large floral wallpapered living room. Most of the furniture was still covered in plastic sheets and I noticed cobwebs on the ceiling. “Excuse the dust. We still haven’t had a chance to clean this story. We started downstairs, moved up to the attic, and are now finishing up the second story. We figured the bedrooms were a little more important than the reception rooms.”

“Is that where the girls are?” I asked. I hadn’t seen the three young spook catchers since they took a cab with Roe and left my house.

He nodded. “And before you ask, they’re doin’ great. I’ve got them doing Catcher exercises, have already tested their theory skills, and I was hoping you would take them into the field when you’re ready. Theory means nothing without practice.”