The Shadow Stealer (Silver Moon Saga Book 3)

by Melissa Giorgio

  I already knew what Kain was going to suggest, but all the same, I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped my lips.

  From across the kitchen, Kain gazed at me. “If you want to know the truth, you need to ask Charles.”

  “Are you suggesting we waltz back to the city with her?” Evan asked from where he sat at the table, his plate of untouched Chinese food growing cold. “Because then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. Why don’t we just tie a bow around her neck and deliver her to HQ?”

  Kain opened his mouth, but Alexandra cut him off. “Didn’t you already do that to her?” She pointed an accusing finger in Evan’s direction. “When you acted like a moron back in December?”

  Evan’s face went white. “Alex, that was different.”

  She sneered at him. “I fail to see how this is any different. Unless you mean the part about betraying your friends.”

  “So we’re doing this now? In front of everyone else?” Evan asked. “Fine. I screwed up, and I’m not proud of myself, but I don’t regret it, not for a second. I saw a means to heal you, and I took it. I was so desperate, Alex, don’t you get that? First I watched you almost die, and then I spent two years watching you lie in bed, unresponsive. What did you expect me to do?”

  Alexandra shook her head. “You should have let me die.”

  Evan stood so suddenly, Alexandra flinched. “Don’t ever say something like that again.”

  “Guys, come on,” Rafe interrupted, shouldering his way between them. “No offense, but Gabi and Phil were just handed a huge bombshell. Couldn’t you have picked a better time to start screaming at one another?” Evan and Alexandra at least had the decency to look ashamed. After they mumbled their apologies, Rafe continued. “What do you want to do?” He directed the question to me.

  My response was immediate. “Go ask Charles about this.”

  “Gabi, you don’t have to come,” Philip said. “I’ll go, I’ll ask him—”

  “Like hell I don’t have to come!” I made a face. “Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me your dad might know where my mom is at this very moment, but you expect me to stay at home and do nothing about it?”

  “No.” Philip shook his head mournfully. “No, I never expected you to agree to stay home. I just needed to say it. That way, when this all blows up in our faces, at least I can say I warned you.”

  “Nothing is going to happen,” I told him. “We’ll stay far away from HQ, okay? There’re a thousand different places to eat in the city. Tell your dad to meet us at a restaurant on, I don’t know, West Four Hundred Fiftieth Street.” For some reason, everyone suddenly looked like they were fighting off grins, making me self-conscious. “What? Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “Because, farm girl,” Philip said, “there’s no such thing as West Four Hundred Fiftieth Street.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Whatever, who cares! Just pick a damn place and tell him to meet us in a few hours. How long does it take to get to the city by train?”

  “Wait—what? You want to go now?” Philip asked.

  “Yes, right now. Let’s go. Train station!” I snapped my fingers a few times for emphasis. “You can’t just drop this bombshell on me and expect me to ignore it and go on pretending like my life is normal, Phil. Because it’s not. It hasn’t been normal since I met Rafe.” I shot him an apologetic look when he made a noise of protest. “No offense. And if your mom and my mom are, in fact, the same woman, then maybe I can finally get some answers about who—and what—I actually am.”

  “And that,” Rafe said, “is why I agree with Gabi. We need to go to the city. The sooner, the better.”

  Everyone, including me, stared at him in surprise. “You have got to be kidding me,” Alexandra muttered under her breath.

  I ignored her as I approached my boyfriend, two seconds away from throwing my arms around him. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Rafe tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Gabi, I know how much her leaving hurt you. How it still hurts you. If we can find a way to erase that pain? Of course I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you find her.”

  “Rafe Fitzgerald, you are the best boyfriend in the entire world,” I said in a rush. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but you are, but just make sure it doesn’t go to your head, all right?”

  “How come you’ve never told me that?” I heard Kain ask Philip.

  “Because you would let it go to your head and it’s big enough to begin with.”

  “My dad is going to murder me when he finds out I went to the city without telling him, but maybe he’ll forgive me if I come home with some info about Mom, right?” My voice sounded normal, but I was already worrying about Dad’s reaction. I wasn’t used to disobeying him. That was Chloe’s job.

  Rafe eyed the kitchen knives nervously. “Something tells me you’re not the one he’s going to murder.”

  ***

  After everyone quickly cleaned up the barely-touched Chinese food, Alexandra followed us out of the kitchen protesting, “I still say this is crazy. You’re bringing her straight to the lion’s den!”

  “We’re not going anywhere near HQ,” Rafe replied. “And Kain can help cloak Gabi, can’t he?”

  “I can?” Kain asked. “Ow, Philip, please don’t hit me. You’re very strong.”

  “Don’t act surprised about your powers when you know what you’re capable of!” Philip glared at him. “Just put that spell on her, the one you used the night we broke out of HQ.”

  “I would, but if Collins—or anyone else who may be guilty of murdering Rafe’s parents or interested in a potential Soul Healer—happens to be in the area, he’ll sense it. Even from a distance.” Kain reached for his jacket, pulling it on. “We’re better off not using magic, and just blending in with the millions of others.”

  Evan made a face. “I hate to say this, but he’s right.”

  “Why, thank you, Underwood,” Kain said, pleased. “That wasn’t so horrible to say, was it?”

  “It tasted like crap on my tongue.”

  “You’ve tasted crap before?”

  “I still think this is the worst idea ever,” Alexandra muttered as she grabbed her jacket.

  “Nothing is going to happen,” I said firmly. “We’re going to hop on the train, have a nice chat with Mister Director, and then come back home. That’s it.” Without waiting for her response, I ran upstairs, retrieving my purse from my bedroom. I packed an extra sweatshirt, ran a brush through my hair before tying it up into a ponytail, and applied a layer of clear lip gloss before assessing myself in front of my bathroom mirror. I was pale, but my eyes shone with determination.

  I knew what we were doing was insane, but I always did get a little wacky when Mom was involved. But I couldn’t just go to school and to work, or eat dinner with Dad and Chloe and pretend like I hadn’t just discovered potential life-altering news. No. That wasn’t me. That would never be me.

  Mom. Would I find her? Would Charles know where she was, or would he be as clueless as my dad was? I narrowed my eyes in thought. Mom had left Dad a note the day she vanished. What had been in it? What if she had explained everything to him, and he’d kept it from me and Chloe to protect us?

  Okay, you’re getting way ahead of yourself, Gabi. Maybe Mom wasn’t involved with Silver Moon and Charles. Maybe Philip thinks his mom looks like Mom, but he’s wrong. And maybe you’re just a freak who can heal. A Soul Healer or a demon spawn or something even crazier.

  But something told me I wasn’t a freak. (Okay, yes, I know, healing powers automatically made me a freak, shut up.) Mom was involved, and Charles was going to hand me the final pieces to this puzzle I’d been working on ever since she left. In return, we could tell him about our suspicions regarding Collins. Maybe we’ll be able to wrap up these two mysteries today! My heart started racing in anticipation.

  It’s time for the truth.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Are you okay?” R
afe asked, his eyes on the road as he drove me, Alexandra, and Kain to the train station. Philip was with Evan. I wanted him with me, but we knew we couldn’t put him and Alexandra in the same car. And I couldn’t leave Rafe, so that had been our only option. At least poor Evan had some company. I’d managed to patch things up between him and Rafe (for the most part, anyway), but after that scene in the kitchen, I knew he and Alexandra had a long, long way to go.

  “Yeah,” I said in response to Rafe’s question. “I’m just imagining what I’m going to do to Charles when I find out he’s been withholding some very important pieces of information from me.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Maybe he didn’t know. About you and Phil, I mean.”

  “Of course he knew. He knew and he probably goes to sleep at night congratulating himself for duping me and Phil.”

  “That sounds about right,” Alexandra drawled from the backseat. “If you need me to hold him down while you punch him, Gabi, just let me know.”

  “Oh, me too!” Kain said. “Please let me punch him, Gabiella! I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

  “No one is punching Charles,” Rafe said as he pulled into the train station’s parking lot. Evan parked his car in the next space and Philip got out, typing a text on his phone. “We need information from him. You can’t get that if you send him to the emergency room!”

  “All right, fine,” I conceded, getting out of the car. “I’ll just wait until he finishes telling us everything before kicking his ass.”

  Philip looked up from his phone warily. “Do I even want to know who you’re talking about?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Kain asked, throwing an arm around Philip’s shoulders. “Mister Douche-Dick!”

  Philip let out a humongous snort and walked away to compose himself. Evan, meanwhile, was giving Alexandra a mournful and desperate look. When she noticed, she flipped him the finger and stalked away to the other side of the parking lot, glowering.

  I exchanged a glance with Rafe, who shrugged helplessly.

  This was going to be the longest day ever.

  ***

  The train ride to Manhattan was two hours, and on top of that we’d had to wait an additional forty-five minutes for the train to even arrive at the station, so I spent a lot of time thinking. Thinking about Mom, and Philip, and how our relationship would change if we were brother and sister. Or would it? Kain already said we reminded him of his bickering sisters. Our squabbles aside, how could I forget how easily we clicked from the moment we first met? It was like, subconsciously, we knew we were related.

  As the train sped south, I rested my head against Rafe’s shoulder and watched Philip, sitting in the row across from me, stare out the window. I definitely wouldn’t mind having him as an older brother. I knew I shouldn’t think of him as one without hearing what Charles had to say first, but, I realized with a rueful shake of my head, I already did.

  Whatever Charles says, it doesn’t make a difference, I told myself. Siblings or not, he’s still one of your best friends. That’s not going to change.

  “Why are you staring at me?” Philip jostled me out of my daydream by throwing a wadded up gum wrapper at my head. “Are you still trying to see if we look alike?”

  I threw the wrapper back at him, successfully missing Philip and hitting Kain on the nose instead. After apologizing to Kain, I told Philip, “No. I was just thinking it would make sense if we’re related, since you’re so good at annoying the hell out of me.”

  “You know I can easily say the same thing about you, right?” Philip pointed toward my window. “Oh, look, a cow. Remind you of home, Gabi?”

  “I have no idea why you’re still saying that when you know there are no farms where I live!” I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him. It took me a few seconds, but I realized he was teasing me to distract me from, well, everything. “Thanks,” I mumbled, looking away quickly.

  I watched his reflection in the glass smile. “You’re welcome.”

  ***

  The train pulled into Penn Station with a loud screech. People jumped from their seats, grabbing their luggage and bags from the overhead racks. My friends and I waited for the train to empty before rising and heading for the doors.

  I held Rafe’s hand tightly as we navigated through the crowds. People were everywhere, rushing to catch their trains as a voice over the loudspeaker announced the track numbers and reminded everyone to report any suspicious activities. Stores selling everything from food to books lined the long corridor, and I made a small sound of protest as we passed a bakery without stopping.

  We rode the escalator outside, and immediately new noises filled my ears: people hawking wares, honking car horns, and pulsing dance music spilling from a store across the street. The six of us stepped out of the way of the ever-present crowds of pedestrians so Philip could tell us our next move.

  “Okay, he’s pissed off we’re here,” he said, staring at his phone, “which is to be expected, but Dad says he’ll meet us at Bryant Park.”

  “Bryant Park?” I echoed. “Is that like Central Park?”

  They all smirked at me.

  “Shut up,” I said, my face turning red. Stupid New Yorkers!

  Taking pity on me, Rafe pointed to the right and said, “It’s this way.”

  ***

  Bryant Park was not, in fact, part of Central Park, but another, smaller park situated on the same block as the New York Public Library. It wasn’t a far walk from Penn Station, so we didn’t bother with the subway, although Rafe informed me the train did stop at the park. But unlike back home, it wasn’t too cold out, and they didn’t have any residual snow on the pavement, so I didn’t mind the walk.

  It probably helped that Rafe stopped to buy me a hot chocolate along the way.

  Philip eyed my happy face as I drank my cocoa and shook his head, but he wisely said nothing.

  I began noticing trees to our right, and suddenly, smack dab in the middle of the tall office buildings and the crazy traffic and all the people rushing around was a park. “Huh,” I said. “New York City is cool.”

  No one answered, but there was definitely a lot of eye-rolling going on behind my back. I could tell, even without looking.

  We crossed the street and Philip led us up a small flight of stairs and turned right, toward a corner of the park. The paths were clear, but piles of gray and white snow covered the fenced-off grassy areas. The trees, their limbs still bare, stretched high above and around us, but they didn’t block the sight of a very busy city street right outside the park. Still, the place was nice. I liked it and wished we’d come here just to hang out, instead of taking care of some dark and possibly life-altering business with Charles.

  Speaking of Mister Director, he was already sitting at a green wrought-iron table, watching us approach. His table had been pulled away from the main brick path, and two empty chairs occupied the space across from him. He rose, his face already twisting into a scowl. “Do I need to waste my breath to inform you how displeased I am to see you all here?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Philip said. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the photo of me and Mom, and tossed it onto the table.

  Charles paled as he stared down at it. After a moment, where he seemed lost in his own thoughts, he quietly said, “Philip and Gabi, sit down. The rest of you, make yourselves scarce.”

  Evan rolled his eyes and walked away first. Alexandra watched him go, then took off in the opposite direction, sitting at a table too far away to overhear anything, but close enough that she could come running if she needed to. Kain paused to murmur something in Philip’s ear before following Alexandra and sitting down at her table.

  While Philip sat, Rafe lingered next to me, still holding my hand. The frown on his face told me he was unhappy about being sent away. Rafe was probably afraid of what Charles was going to tell us, and how I would react to it. A warm rush of gratitude flowed through me, and I stood on tiptoes to softly brush my lips against his. “Sit wit
h Evan?” I asked. He looked surprised at my out of the blue request—he’d probably expected me to ask him to stay—but he nodded.

  So with Kain and Alexandra at one table, and Rafe and Evan at another, Philip and I sat down with Charles, ready to hear whatever it was he had to say.

  Chapter Twelve

  Charles couldn’t stop staring at the photograph of me and Mom. His face betrayed no emotions, but his silence, combined with his tense posture, told me he was unhappy. Philip crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in his chair, and said, “Kain found that photo in Gabi’s house. Gabi says it’s a picture of her and her mom, which wouldn’t be a big deal, except for the little fact that that same woman is in a framed photo on your desk.” He leaned forward, his chair creaking slightly. “It’s the same woman, isn’t it, Dad?”

  Charles shut his eyes. “Yes.”

  “You said she was dead!” Philip’s voice cracked, and I realized he was struggling to control his emotions. I just hoped he didn’t try to punch Charles. A trip to the police station was just what we didn’t need today. “Why the hell would you lie about something like that?”

  “I had my reasons,” Charles answered evenly.

  “You had your reasons? What kind of bullshit answer is that!”

  “Phil.” I reached for him, placing my gloved hand over his as I tried to calm him down. “Let him talk.” Turning to Charles, I asked, “Did you know? About me and Phil being siblings?”

  “I had my suspicions,” Charles said, “when you told me your name. Morgan always said if she had a girl, she wanted to give her an unusual name.”

  A sharp, stabbing pain hit me squarely in my heart at the mention of that name. Her name.

  Mom’s name.

  When was the last time I heard someone refer to her as “Morgan”? At home, it was always “Mom,” and after she left, that term was used sparingly. Dad’s relatives, the ones we saw during Christmas, never even called her that after she left. No, it was always “that woman” with them. To hear Charles say her name so flippantly?