Death's Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page A

persistent.
    “Was it his eye?” Dervish asks. “Billy had a lazy left eye. He often asked me to correct it with magic. If I had, would he have been more confident?”
    I shrug.
    “Come
on
,” Dervish presses angrily. “You know. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
    For a moment I feel like telling him to stop pestering me. I want to scream at him to stop obsessing about a dead boy and let me start living a life of my own. It’s not fair that I’m forced to spend my days and nights playing these sick games.
    But Dervish scares me. He’s not big, but he’s strong, I can see that in his pale blue eyes. He might hurt me if I crossed him. I’m not sure how far he’d go to keep learning about his nephew. Bill-E loved him unconditionally, so he saw only good things in this balding, bearded man. But Dervish has a tougher side that Bill-E never saw. I’m afraid he might punish me if I annoy him. So I let my anger pass, bow my head in shame, and mutter softly in response to his accusation.
    “I don’t know, because Bill-E didn’t know. It was lots of things, all jumbled up. The death of his mom, his eye, just feeling different. There was no simple reason. If there had been, he could have dealt with it.”
    Dervish studies me silently, face creased. Finally he nods, accepting my answer. He doesn’t apologize for snapping at me — he doesn’t see any need to.
    “Was he happier when Grubbs came?” Dervish asks, leaning back in his chair. We’ve talked about this before. We’ve covered most of Bill-E’s life. The only part we’ve never touched on is the night of his death. Dervish never asks about that.
    “Yes,” I say, raising my head and flashing a short smile across the table. I know Dervish likes hearing about Bill-E’s lighter moments, his friendship with Grubbs, hunting for buried treasure, life with his mom before she died. “Grubbs was his best friend ever, even though they didn’t know each other for long.”
    “Did he suspect they were brothers?”
    “No. He sometimes wished they were, but he never had any idea who his true father was. He thought it was you.”
    Dervish flinches. I knew, even as I was saying it, that I shouldn’t. He feels guilty about not telling Bill-E the truth. He doesn’t like to imagine he was the cause of any unhappiness in his nephew’s short life.
    “That’s enough for now,” Dervish mutters, turning away from me, switching on his computer.
    I stand up and edge around the desk. My gaze settles on Dervish’s narrow back. I feel an almost irresistible urge to put a hand between his shoulder blades. Partly I want to touch him just to make contact, to say, “I’m real. I have feelings.
See
me.” But mostly I want to absorb his memories and secrets, learn what makes him tick. If I knew more about him, maybe I needn’t be so afraid. I might find some way to break through the barriers he’s erected and make him see me as a person, not just a direct line to his dead nephew.
    But that would be wrong. I’d be stealing. I already feel bad for unintentionally taking from Beranabus, Meera, and Reni. I won’t do it on purpose, not even to make life easier for myself. So I slide out wordlessly, leaving Dervish hunched over the computer, his secrets intact, the coldness between us preserved.

FRIEND INDEED
    M EERA Flame roars to a halt in our driveway, turning up out of the blue, the way she normally does. I’m watching television when she arrives. I know it’s Meera by the sound of her motorcycle, which is much louder than Dervish’s, but I wait for her to knock before going to let her in. I don’t want to appear overly desperate for company.
    “Hey, girl, looking good,” Meera laughs, giving me a quick hug before I can duck. She breaks away quickly, spotting Dervish on the stairs. I don’t take much from her, but what I do soak up is new, memories I hadn’t absorbed before. It seems like every time I touch a person, I steal something fresh. That’s useful to