Shadowshaper Read Online Free

across the street. When Sierra was little, Grandpa Lázaro and Mama Carmen used to take her there for picnics. Each tree and stone brought with it a story, and little Sierra could dance for hours, imagining the adventures those silent field dwellers may have seen. When she became a teenager, the quiet and beauty of the park was her solace when the rest of the world just seemed too overwhelming to handle.
    But tonight there wasn’t time for solace or peaceful moments in nature. Someone — something — was after her. It knew her name. It had found her once and probably could again. She had to get home. She took off at a jog toward the bright lights of Grand Army Plaza.

     
    Back in Bed-Stuy, police lights pulsated up and down Putnam Avenue. Ambulances were parked at urgent angles alongside the rows of SUVs and hoopties. Folks from the neighborhood crowded around, gazing down the cordoned-off block to see who had been shot this time.
    “You know what happened?” Sierra asked an elderly lady with a handcart full of freshly laundered sheets.
    The old woman shook her head. “Another young something-something gone to dust, I’m sure.” She shrugged and walked on, her pushcart squeaking crankily with each turn of its wheels. The cops keeping people away looked bored. Just another shooting, ho hum. Sierra scowled at one of them and he scowled back.
    “Ay!” someone yelled. Sierra spun around, her whole body tensed to strike, but the corpse-like man was still nowhere to be seen. Some old guy banged on the bulletproof-glass window of Carlos’s Corner Store. “Ay, C!” the guy yelled. “Gimme a loosie, man! C’mon, wake up!”
    Further down Gates Ave, a couple of guys were throwing dice in front of the Coltrane Projects. “Why you frownin’, girl?” one of them called out as Sierra walked past. “Smile for us!”
    Sierra knew the guy. It was Little Ricky; they’d played together when they were small. He’d been one of those boys that all the girls were crazy about, with big dreamy eyes and a gentle way about him. A few years ago, Sierra would have been giddy with excitement to have his attention. Now he was just another stoopgoon harassing every passing skirt.
    “I ain’t in the mood, jackass,” Sierra muttered, hugging herself. She was still shaky from the horrible night and she knew any sign of weakness would encourage them.
    The guys let out a chorus of ohs and pounded one another. “I’m just saying, Sarcastula,” Ricky called after her. “C’mon back when you in the mood …”
    Sierra kept walking. At her block, she paused to make sure the creepy guy was gone for real. The trees shushed their quiet night song and Rodrigo, her neighbor’s cat, strolled by. Otherwise, the block was deserted. She made her way inside, crept up the stairs, and collapsed into her bed, trying not to think of the hideous voice whispering her name.

 
    “Aw, damn, y’all you seen this?” Across the kitchen table, Sierra’s godfather, Neville Spencer, held up a page of the Bed-Stuy Searchlight . The wide grin he usually wore was gone.
    Sierra squinted. It was ten in the morning. She’d only gotten about three hours of sleep, and woken up to some weird texts from Robbie saying he was okay and he’d explain later, and another from Bennie, demanding to know where she’d run off to. “I can’t see anything, man,” Sierra said. “I ain’t put my contacts in yet.”
    “What happened?” Dominic Santiago, Sierra’s dad, appeared in the doorway, wearing his pajamas. He was short and stocky with black hair exactly everywhere on his body except his face and the very top of his head. “Lemme see. What mess Manny shedding light on this time?”
    Neville passed the paper to Dominic. “Bottom of page two. You didn’t work last night, D?”
    “Nah, the hospital just hired a bunch of new security guys and I took a much-needed personal day, thank you very much.” He looked at the paper. “Oh, man, that’s a