“No, she’s not.”
Um . . . I gave him my best WTF look. “I checked. She’s gone.”
“Lex is not gone. Her soul migrated. Yamato’s the one caught now.”
Okay, my head was spinning. “You care to enlighten me? Because there’s a whole houseful of Revenants in there waiting to declare war on someone. And right now, they’re targeting Daniel.”
He blinked. “Frasier? He’s involved, but I’m not sure how yet. And to enlighten you—that spell isn’t in that large Grimoire. It’s locked in the smaller book. Only I couldn’t decipher it. But you evidently have.”
“You knew where it was?”
“Yeah, well, I helped my sister write the book. How much of it did you read?”
I shrugged. “Only to where she took her first human as a host and Azrael—you—vanished.”
“Ah . . . halfway. Why did you stop? Did you see the map in the back? She was supposed to put the rest of the spell in there.”
“No, no map. I could only—” And then it dawned on me. “TC—you knew all along. You already know that spell.”
“Not the most important part. I do know that the Phantasm will stop at nothing to get the end of it. He didn’t obliterate Yamato, but he did put her in a place not even you can get her out of. I’m not sure there’s any rescue for her.”
I wasn’t sad. Not at all. Bitch. “So your sister—Inanna—wrote this book and put this spell in it—” I frowned. “Wait—how could she have put the spell in there unless she—” And then it hit me like a two-by-four. “Either she was the one who stole it, or the one who created the spell!”
“Sshhh . . .” He looked as if he would strangle me. “You want them to hear? It’s a good thing for them to think the Phantasm did. Gives them strength. The wusses. But what she didn’t do was put it in the same book. And that book has a map in it that’ll show us where the final piece is.”
“But”—I was having a major brain fart on this—“why do you want to bring this spell back?”
“I didn’t originally—till I realized what I could do with it. Look, Inanna came up with it when I was young, to use against the Phantasm should he ever hurt me. The spell was given to her by our father as a means to obliterate himself so that the Phantasm would have nothing to keep and torture. When the Phantasm found out about the spell, he wanted it. Has always wanted it. And with you and me popping up like this—and he realized after that last little go-round that you are that and a bag of chips—he wants that spell so he can obliterate me, you, and all of them. With that in the works, he can rule indefinitely.”
“I’m just not feeling it,” I told him. “I keep thinking there’s something else. Something . . .” I shook my head. “First off, do you know who’s been doing this?”
“No. I don’t. And if I did, I’d have already gone after them.”
For some strange reason, I believed him. “Okay, how can you be sure this isn’t it? That what’s happened to Yamato isn’t the obliteration spell?”
“The body remained behind.”
Uh-uh. “And are you sure they haven’t already killed Dags trying to get that book out of him?”
He started to answer me, opened his mouth, then shut it. TC removed his shades then and looked away, almost squinting in the light. His milky white eyes looked in the direction of the gardens. “Zoë—I don’t know.” His gaze returned to me. “That Guardian—he’s not something I can read. He’s so much like you—vibrates between both the Ethereal and Astral—” He shrugged. “I don’t know about him. What I do know is that they don’t have the book. If they did and had dipped into the magic inside—especially if it’s the Phantasm riding a human—we’d have known about it because they would be experimenting.”
Okay—something he said snagged my attention. “Wait a minute—Phantasm riding a human. I thought he couldn’t do that. I thought that was why he made creatures like Fetches, Daemons, other Symbionts—to do things for him.”
“Well, yeah . . .” TC replaced his shades. “There are a lot of rumors out there. Don’t believe all of them. And don’t trust anyone. You’ve already fucked that one up more times than I can count.” With a deep sigh, he said, “I need to see that book, luv. And I need to see it with the magic you have.”
Abruptly, he grabbed my left arm with his hand at the wrist. I hissed as his fingers touched flesh and tried to pull away from him. The mark he gave me flared a bright gold as something stirred inside. I tried to shift, to become incorporeal, but couldn’t. “Let go of me,” I said through clenched teeth.
His own jaw was set, and he sneered. “Give me that spell.”
Oh-ho. No fucking way!
With a final effort, I pushed the change, shifting from human to Wraith. I went corporeal and shoved him backward. The force sent him into the tree. But TC changed as well and sieved through it, landing on his ass on the other side in the sunshine. Cursing, he vanished and reappeared next to me. My left arm was throbbing where he’d tried to take the spell—but I felt it digging in its heels. It was not going to be taken from me so easily. And evidently not by TC.
“You will give me that spell.”
“No, you fucking asshole. It’s staying with me. It doesn’t want you.”
“Give me the spell, or so help me, even if I find your precious book boy alive, I’ll kill him myself.”
“You do that, and I’ll put an end to your miserable existence.”
I think it was at that moment an alarm clock went off in my head. A realization that this was truth. That I could—as I had become—destroy him. Before, when he’d attacked Daniel and nearly killed him, I’d found I could wail with grief. That power had, in a way, destroyed TC. Physically. But he’d still been there in some form. And we’d made a deal to rejoin and defeat the Phantasm—for different reasons. I wanted to save Susan Hirokumi.
I stared at him. “That’s it, isn’t it? I so have the power to destroy you. To destroy this.” I pointed to him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. And maybe he believed that. I didn’t. “You’ve already torn me to pieces once—and you brought me back. You can’t live without me.”
I grinned. “Nor you without me. Because you touched me. We’re joined.” Taking a step closer, I unfurled my wings. Whereas the sun seemed to diminish him, I didn’t notice it. Might be that Ethereal gene running amuck. “You touch one hair on Dags’s head, and I will destroy you. You got that?”
“I’m the only one that can destroy the Phantasm, Zoë. You got that? And if he has your book boy—what you get back won’t know you.” He grinned. “Sort of like what he did with your cop. Crazy Daniel? Poor Zoë. All the men in her life—she drives them crazy.” TC’s expression hardened. “Give me the spell.”
“Find Dags. We trade.”
I had no freak’n idea where that came from. But I liked it. Motivation. On both sides.
He grinned. In fact, he grinned way too fast. “We have a deal. I bring you your squeeze—you give me that spell. And the book.”
“Nope. Just the spell. The book stays with me.”
“Is there a problem?”
TC and I both turned suddenly to see Jason and Nick standing to our left, between us and the gardens. I hadn’t even sensed them. And it was obvious that neither had TC.
“No . . .” I glared at TC. “No problem.”
“Good,” the Revenant said, and clasped his hands together in front of him. “We have an idea—though a bit risky—that might draw out whatever is doing this.”
“Like what?” TC said.
“We’re going to have a wake for Lex. Here. At midnight. And we’re going to exorcise her soul.”
29
MY life is too complicated.
I want a new one. And if I’d bought it at Sears, I’d be trading it in right now.
Something simple and quiet . . . like . . . a librarian. Wait no . . . they made that into a bunch of movies.
Geez . . . I don’t know. Spin the roulette wheel and
just pick something. Anything that doesn’t go so fast, so I can get off it once in a while and detox.
Apparently—unbeknownst to me or to TC . . . or Rhonda, Nona, Jemmy (Mom went and got her), or Joe—if you exorcise a magic spell, you also exorcise its creator.
Huh?
Lemme get this straight. So, if you perform a sort of exorcism on the essence of a spell, the incantation vibrates along the silver cord connecting the two entities and, in essence, zaps the creation point.
Kinda like sending feedback down a wire.
Nick liked my description.
Jason—not so much.
It was Rhonda and Loki, whose host name I hadn’t learned yet, who presented the idea to everyone.
“Lex’s body—the host—was used as a base for the spell. The essence of that spell lingers. Both Tel and I can sense it.”
Tel? His name is Tel? You know, in a way he kinda looked and sounded like Criss Angel. “I noticed the markings still sparkle now and then, which means the magic still exists. Rhonda and I talked about it, and it was Erishkegal that suggested an exorcism.”
You know, I’d read that name in that journal, but I hadn’t heard it pronounced till then. And honestly, I was not ever going to try saying it aloud myself.
A woman stepped forward—the complete opposite of Loki. She was well shaped, statuesque, with long Veronica Lake hair the color of wheat and a husky voice.
Wait . . . too husky.
Oh hell . . . it was a drag queen!
“I’ve performed a few magical exorcisms in my earlier bodies,” she—she?—said. “But all practitioners of magic know spells are traceable with the right countermagic. And Rhonda has that spell. We perform this ritual, and it will lead us to the one who did it.”
I leaned in close to Jason. “Why didn’t we do this before?”
“Because the bodies all turned to goo.”
Oh yeah. Right. And Lex’s didn’t.
I leaned in again. “Why didn’t Lex’s do that?”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Rhonda and Tel were still talking. “. . . arrange it for midnight. But I don’t want it a secret. I want the news of this to pass through as many gossips as possible, especially through Abysmal lines.” Rhonda grinned at Tel. “With all of us here and on guard, this might be the perfect opportunity to catch whoever is using this spell.”
I raised my hand. “Shouldn’t we be out looking for Dags? I mean . . . he still has a powerful Grimoire inside of him.”
Erishkegal turned to me. “We believe he is already dead, Wraith. Whoever is using this spell has finished it. Yamato’s death is the proof. I’m afraid looking for your friend is pointless.”
Why you bitch. Bastard. And evidently I started to shift and go forward because she backed up, and Jason grabbed my hand. “Easy . . .” he said.
I looked at him. “But she’s wrong!” I hissed. “Dags is still alive. I would know it if he weren’t.”
“Yes. I believe that. And if it was the spellcaster that took him in order to complete the spell, then doing this will bring him to justice. Everyone hopes he or she will be revealed, and we can find Dags.”
But . . . I wanted to tell them that the spell wasn’t finished. That Lex’s body wasn’t corrupted because Yamato still existed in some form. Somewhere. And if they did that spell, the exorcism—would it somehow affect her?
I should have said something. I should have.
But damn her—she stabbed Jason, trying to kill him. She hurt Joe. I honestly didn’t give a crap about her.
Well . . . that’s not true. I did. But in truth, the only proof I had that she was still in existence was TC’s word. And this bunch didn’t exactly trust him.
And neither did I.
THE preparations had the whole of the Society busy. Rhonda, Jason, Gunter, and Loki coordinated moving Lex’s body as well as the supplies needed to perform the ritual. Mom and Jemmy went home in order to get their “battle gear,” as they put it. I really couldn’t stop myself from laughing at that one. Oh Lord.
The rest of the Revenants scattered about Atlanta and set the rumor mills flying amid the creatures within the borders of the planes.
Sort of a Talk Soup for the Abysmal plane.
The stage set for the event was a warehouse owned by the Society, located about twenty miles north of the estate. I peeked at the warehouse manifest—all of which had to be relocated—and whistled. “Military much?” I asked Rhonda when she shouldered me out of the way.
She started walking down the hall to the main ops, where Gunter was. “We’re always prepared, Zoë.”
“For what? A war? Do you realize how many guns you have in that warehouse?”
She stopped abruptly and looked at me. After crashing into her, I stepped back. “Yes, I do. And I keep a very close eye on them. Our inventory is more vast than this, and we’ve actually supplied the US Army on occasion. Now, please, get out from under my feet!” And with that she turned and moved.
I stayed where I was. This was her show. Her element. Me? I was that pesky fly that was going to get swatted. I sighed and turned away, and ran headlong into Gunter.
He stood his ground, his hands behind his back, looking down at me.
I looked up. Wow, I actually looked up at a guy. And I got the feeling . . . real fast . . . he did not like me. “How’s the weather up there?”
I got a sneer in response and decided it was time to leave. But before I could, he reached out and grabbed my upper left arm. Painfully. I looked up at him, “Hey . . .”
“I don’t like you, or your kind,” he said in a very menacing voice. “And if I had my way, I’d lock you in one of the L-6 stasis tubes forever. But Miss Orly seems to think fondly of you—she trusts you. But I warn you, do not get in my way, and do not betray her. If you do, you will have me to deal with.”
Oh no he di’int.
I shifted right there, coming to my full height, and looked down at him. And to my surprise, he held his ground. Yeah, I could see fear behind those dark eyes, but he wasn’t going to let me scare him. I went incorporeal and slipped from his grasp. “You best watch who you threaten, Mr. Gunter.”
He kept his gaze level. “Not a who. But a thing.” And with that, he turned and left me standing there.
Luckily we had no audience. Just me. Him. The hall.
Pissed did not describe how I was feeling . . . so I shot straight up through the roof of the house and up to the darkening sky.
I think . . . for the first time in my life . . . I’d encountered a racial threat.
AFTER that, I stayed out of their way. Didn’t see the point. Just stayed as Wraith and watched from above in the warehouse. It was a nice one, with a well-kept wooded area. Very private, with an electric fence. The perfect place for an ambush. And even if the person responsible didn’t get it at first, when they saw this place, they would surely think, well—
TRAP!
I would.
Sitting on the roof, I watched as trucks came and went. Furniture—mostly chairs. Even food. She was having it catered. Oh man. This was so not my idea of an exorcism. All I had to go on was watching Constantine or The Exorcist, and that was always the victim tied to a bed and priests in robes. Seeing this one performed should be interesting.
Even as I watched them come and go, I reached out through the city for some sign of Dags. Or Maureen or even Alice. Something. Some spark or sound that would let me know he was okay. Anxiety gnawed at my stomach, making it impossible to eat, or even sleep. I’d tried the nap thing as Joe suggested. Even lain down in the bed with him. He’d been asleep in seconds. Me?
Sigh.
Nothing. I couldn’t sit still, and I couldn’t keep moving. And all I could think about was Dags.
Daniel was out there, possibly being used again. The police were looking for him. Mastiff was heading up the investigation even though he knew there was more at work than a serial killer. He’d do his best to keep the cops away from the
Society. But still . . .
TC appeared beside me, no longer dressed in his trench coat but in a black wife beater, to show off his muscles. Leather pants. Lots of studs. “You look like you could step into Woof’s and be right at home.” Woof’s was a local gay leather bar. Pretty nice place.
“The Eagle is more my style,” he said. “Your boy’s alive.”
I nearly fell off the roof as I stood up. “Where is he?”
“That I can’t say. He’s being protected somehow. A few Daemons saw him. Said he’s alive. Or that he’s breathing. But they can’t get to him.”
“But where? If they saw him, then they know the physical where.”
TC shook his head. “No. Sit down.”
I did.
“These Daemons were being used by something and placed in bodies to do the physical work. The bodies they possessed were completely empty, but they weren’t allowed to keep them. So they were used, then tossed away, which leads me to believe what we’re dealing with is pretty bad-ass that it can use and control like that. Multitasking Abysmal creatures ain’t a picnic, luv.”
“Phantasm?”
To my surprise he shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. I mean yeah I’ll bet anything he’s pulling the strings, but what’s working here on the physical plane . . .” He snapped his fingers. “That night you and I were training. The hairy thing.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s got something to do with that.”
“How do you know?”
He grinned. “Because I’m a fucking genius. One of the Daemons tried to explain it to me, what caught it and used it. He said it was the color of blood and that it wrapped itself around him. And that description was bothering me till just now.”
That was the same description I’d have given of that hairy thing that night. “And it turned that Fetch into goo.”
He nodded. “Pieces are starting to fall into place. Huh . . . I’m kinda liking this detective shit. But, for right now, I can only report he’s alive. Do I get something for that?”
“My thanks?”
“That bastard bit off a finger, Zoë. I don’t know why you think I give a shit about him.”
Revenant Page 24
