Phantasm

by Phaedra Weldon

  He kept his voice low and pointed to his chest. “I happen to like Dags. A lot. And when Daniel went south, we turned to each other. He kept an eye on you, and one on me and Rhonda, protecting both of us. The boy’s been through hell you can’t even imagine, Zoetrope Adiran Martinique.” He glanced down, then fixed his stare at me. “I also know that after what happened—Rhonda’s been in love with him since the day she met him. And in the end, what she felt she had to do—she’s willing to love him from afar. He won’t trust her again. And I can’t blame Dags. And now you’re playing with his heart?”

  I stared at Joe, amazed at the depth I suddenly saw there. He made me feel angry, and small, and stupid. “No—”

  “Do you love him?”

  I blinked. I opened my mouth to answer and saw Daniel in my mind’s eye. I saw his laugh, his beautiful blue eyes, and remembered the way he touched me. He’d loved me once—and broken my heart.

  Joe closed his eyes and shook his head. He sighed before looking at me again, and his eyes were dark. “That’s what I thought. Well—I’m glad I didn’t make the mistake of taking you to bed before helping you. ’Cause I couldn’t deal with the emotional mess you’d make out of me, Zoë. At least with Rhonda I know where I stand—because she’s in love with Dags.”

  I stood with my eyes wide, trying hard to understand what I’d just heard. What did he—what did he mean? He’d managed to make me feel like shit and a complete asshole all in one paragraph. He’d also hurt me by telling me he’d made love to Rhonda—and why should that hurt?

  Why?

  “Halloran?” Cooper was at the bottom of the stairs. I made sure I was invisible, no longer corporeal. It didn’t look like he’d seen me.

  Joe turned. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Not enough food I guess. Or sleep. Look, they’ve taken Miss Martinique’s body to Grady Memorial to the trauma unit. It doesn’t look good. The bullet nicked her heart and lung—massive internal bleeding. I need to get back to the station and initiate a manhunt for Frasier. Can you make sure she’s secure? I’d hate for him to sneak into the hospital and finish the job.”

  Joe nodded. “We need to find Rhonda Orly as well.”

  “Already on it.” Cooper stepped away.

  Joe looked back at me. “Gotta go. Look, you three do what you have to do. I’ll make sure they don’t pull your plug. But the clock’s ticking, Zoë. If you fail, you, Rhonda, your mom, and Daniel are dead. Got it?”

  I had it.

  As I watched him leave, I realized I had too much on my mind. I didn’t need this kind of emotional confusion. Not just then.

  Someone touched my shoulder, and I turned. It was Dags. I was amazed he could do that—especially when I was incorporeal. But then, Dags was nearly as different as me.

  “He cares about you,” Dags said. “Did you know that?”

  I nodded. “I do now.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” TC said from behind us as he came out of the room and stood on the other side of me. He reached down and stole a kiss before pushing me into Dags and heading down the stairs.

  I shivered, remembering what his tongue was like. A snake—on steroids. And I had to wonder if maybe his genitals were actually in his mouth.

  Dags made a noise, and I looked at him with apologies. “Stop seeing pictures.”

  “That’s like saying stop breathing, Zoë. Come on,” and he was bounding down the stairs as well.

  We followed TC to the kitchen where he floated up and took the tin down from where I’d seen my dad take it in my dream. Though I no longer thought of it as a dream, but more of a sidebar. He handed me the box, and I slid the key inside. One turn, and it was open.

  I’m not sure what I expected to see—or had built up in my head I’d see—like maybe bright light, or something like one of those springing snakes jumping out ’cause you know that’s so like my mom to do. I think I was a little disappointed when all I saw inside was a bundle of white cloth.

  “Careful,” Dags cautioned.

  I glanced at him. His eyes were huge and a light shade of gray. Is it me or are they getting grayer?

  With my tongue between my teeth and lips, I reached in—

  “Wait!”

  —And nearly jumped out of my Ethereal body. In my surprise at Dags’s yell, I also shut the tin box.

  “What the fuck?” TC said in his deep, almost scratchy voice. Hrm . . . it was kinda like my own.

  “If that thing contains this Amplifying and/or Quieting Eidolon, shouldn’t TC or I take it out? Wouldn’t it be bad if you touched it?”

  I pursed my lips and looked at TC. He actually looked thoughtful too, then nodded.

  I handed the box to Dags.

  Dags opened the box again and removed the wrapped cloth. Setting the box on the counter, he placed the cloth beside it. I stood to his right, TC to his left. I hated the fact that I was physically—well, as physical as the astral could be—aware of his presence.

  With care, Dags pulled the cloth away to reveal a soft, powder blue stone. It was fixed in silver filigree backing and chain, and the chain was wrapped around a—

  “Is that . . .” TC pointed at the cloth. “Is that a—”

  “Voodoo doll?” I said in a higher-pitched voice than I intended. I started to reach for it, but Dags batted my hand back as he lifted it for everyone to see.

  It had been a Mattel doll at one point in its career, with long brown hair, dark eyes. But this doll didn’t have legs, or arms, or even clothes—just a necklace with a blue stone wrapped around its chest.

  Dags pointed at it with his other hand. “That is more than mildly disturbing.”

  “She used a fucking voodoo doll,” I said again.

  “Not really,” Dags said as he looked at it. “It’s more like sympathetic magic. Same principle as voodoo—and they do share a few commonalities. Not many. There’s a single long, dark hair wrapped around the Eidolon itself.” And he plucked at it and unwound it.

  There was a slight pressure between my eyes, then a pop. TC made a slight noise as well, and I looked at him. “You feel that?”

  “Yeah—didn’t like it.”

  “My guess is I just released what little remained of Nona’s spell.” He started unwrapping the Eidolon from the doll, then set the doll back in the box and closed it. “I’ll let Nona dispose of that however she needs to, without harming Zoë.”

  !!!

  “It’s still disturbing.” Dags held the necklace out. “My guess is we need to use this on the Horror?”

  TC spoke up. “It’ll need to be summoned with it. Because once in the Abysmal, the playing field will be even.”

  I looked at him. “What does that mean?”

  “Okay, haven’t you been listening?” He made a wiseass face. “The Horror, the thing inside of Daniel, is technically you. The Abysmal piece of you that this thing separated. You’ll have equal strengths, and equal failings. So you’ll need this to gain the advantage. There’s only one catch.”

  Dags looked at me, and we both looked at TC.

  “You can’t take that thing into the Abysmal plane.” He nodded to the blue stone glowing softly in its cradle. “You’re going to have to lure Danny-boy back into the physical plane.”

  28

  IT wasn’t long after the police left that we had a houseful again.

  Of ghosts.

  Tim and Steve were the first to show up—and I gave the two of them the biggest hugs I could muster as an Ethereal being. Apparently like this we were technically on the same plane, so they were as physical to me as a brick wall.

  We were all seated once again in the tea shop—the rug in the botanica still had my blood on it, and I did find it mildly oogy. I was on the counter, my legs folded up, looking as normal as could be. TC stood to my right, looking for all the world like a bodyguard. The only thing missing was the earpiece and wire.

  Boo Baskins’s ghost showed up as a black-and-white shade that remained in the corner, and I couldn’t
figure out where her tether was since I assumed it was Randall. I had no idea where he was.

  Tim and Steve were in the kitchen making a light snack for Dags. Maureen insisted her Guardian needed to eat—he really needed sleep as well, but there wasn’t any time. Jemmy had pointed out that since the Horror had Rhonda’s body in the Abysmal, now was the perfect time to act.

  And it was a dark moon.

  Imagine that.

  “Why here?” Boo asked.

  “Well, relative space,” Dags said.

  I looked at Boo and felt terrible, knowing she’d been pregnant. And then I had to wonder—where was the spirit of the child?

  “Not there yet,” Dags said, again hearing my thoughts. “She wasn’t pregnant long enough for the soul to enter.”

  But I still stared at Boo and remembered that my first encounter with her had been at a haunting on Web Ginn House Road, where Maharba had sent me to check out a poltergeist.

  Wait . . . Maharba. I looked at Dags—and apparently he’d caught my thought as well. He stood and walked quickly into the botanica, returning with the computer, which had a little of my blood on it.

  I started thinking out loud to Dags as he booted up the computer. “So I’m thinking we should just enter the Abysmal from here.”

  Dags nodded. “If you head into the Abysmal from here, then they stand a good chance of appearing about the same place as Daniel took Rhonda.”

  I nodded. “Then I should be able to detect Rhonda’s spirit easily and just zero in on it. Then lure them back to this plane.”

  “In fact,” TC said, his voice even more gravelly than before, “I’m counting on it. He wants you in there on his territory.”

  I looked down at him from my perch. “The Horror?”

  TC shook his head. “The Phantasm.” He looked at all of them. “You do all understand he’s really the one pulling the strings here. The Horror isn’t anything but a toy, an extension, a tool he’s using to manipulate the physical plane.” He looked up at me. “The one place he can’t go as long as you’re alive.”

  “Because I was born an Irin?”

  TC nodded. “And when I came along and touched you”—he held out his hand—“I strengthened your hold on the Abysmal—which made you a little more than an Irin.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know how to use e-mail, would you?” Dags asked, looking up from the computer. “Because that’s exactly what Maharba said.”

  “Really?” I jumped down and went to stand behind Dags, who was sitting at the table. Tim came out with a platterful of goodies and a glass of milk.

  I looked at Tim. Milk?

  “To keep up his stamina. Sorry, but I was all out of Viagra.” He gave me a wink and walked away.

  Oh damn.

  He knew Dags and I had shagged!

  How embarrassing.

  “Looks like you got a response from Maharba about an hour ago.”

  I looked down to read.

  Miss Martinique,

  We are sure by now that many secrets as to your origin and birth have been revealed to you. Please understand that we were only peripherally aware of what occurred on the night Professor Domas’s lab exploded, and did not have any knowledge of Mr. Adiran Martinique’s unique—condition.

  We have been and will continue to be a source of support—and though we have on occasion tendered our requests with stern words and suggestions—we are here to guide you as much as possible.

  On the current situation, it is vital that you lure the Horror into the physical plane in order to defeat it. If it remains in the Abysmal plane and you engage in combat, the Phantasm will know of your presence, and your diminished abilities (from Wraith to Irin) will be a disadvantage. The Phantasm controls the Abysmal plane and cannot enter the physical plane as long as you are alive.

  We are aware of Miss Orly’s plight, but as things stand, it is better that the Horror be brought into this plane to be dealt with. In this plane, the Phantasm does not have power and cannot do more damage.

  Please stand by. We will be contacting you shortly.

  Maharba

  I looked at Dags. “Contacting me?”

  “That’s what it says.”

  “I don’t vote on listening to this.” TC shrugged. “Whatever the fuck they are. Getting the Phantasm’s attention is what you want. If you can stir it up, make it push the Horror after you so you can lure it back here, then that’s what we need to do.”

  I nodded. “So—when I get its attention, do I bring it back here?”

  TC lowered his head. “No. Bad idea.”

  Dags said, “Why?”

  “Because the initial boom that’ll happen the moment Zoë reconnects with her Horror will pretty much level everything for a hundred-mile radius, Guardian Boy. You’re going to need to set up your reentry point somewhere else. A place that’s not easy to get to, not easy to get away from, and which, if it goes, won’t destroy so many people as to make an Infernal.”

  All eyes turned to TC.

  I was the one that finally spoke. “A what?”

  “It’s a hole—through the planes—there are lots of them, really. Places where lots of souls died at one time or on a continual basis. Auschwitz is one of them. So are the areas around Hiroshima and where the Trade Center was. Think of them as dead zones.”

  Dags looked at his hands. “Are these zones dangerous?”

  “What I just told you about were Soaks, smaller areas like those her father”—he pointed to me—“sealed up. But if you make one by killing a lot of souls, then what you get is an Infernal, a doorway for the Phantasm to come through. Once he figures out what you’re doing, he’ll try for that, Zoë. Which is why the smack-down has to be above.”

  “You mean like on a building?” I asked.

  He nodded. “What’s the tallest building in Atlanta?”

  I knew the answer to that—it was ingrained in my memory. Because it was the same building I’d been snooping in when all this started. The same building I’d seen TC in for the very first time. The same building where my life, and his existence, began an almost symbiotic relationship.

  “The Bank of America Plaza.”

  He gave me a slow smile through his shades. “Fate, lover. It’s all about Fate.”

  IT was decided that TC and I would enter the Abysmal from different points. He was going to slide in and move to the point closest to where the top of the BOA Plaza would be in the Abysmal. Since compasses don’t work in the Abysmal plane—much less a GPS—TC would act as my beacon to lure Daniel to him, then TC could—along with my help—open the border between the worlds and bring him through.

  And then it would be up to me to guard that border and not allow him a way to get back in.

  The next step after that would be to use the Eidolon. I had no idea how to use it—all I could do was hope that when the time came I’d figure it out.

  Yep. Once again, I was living life through trapdoors.

  Yippee. Go me.

  What I didn’t know was how I was going to get the Horror—Daniel—to the other opening without him opening a door on his own.

  Yep. Thinking on the run again. Otherwise—the big question was whether I was going to get this all done before my body died.

  And I gave up retail sales for this?

  Joe arrived right on time, having made sure that my body was securely hooked up to life-support machines. Again. He left Mastiff on guard, making sure nothing went crazy. Like, no wacky Society flunky coming in and unplugging the machines. Mastiff I trusted. He could kick ass. Even with a bandaged arm.

  Joe and Dags’s job was to somehow get permission to get to the top of the Bank of America Plaza. Now, it was my understanding the only thing up there besides the birdcage-looking doohickey—which was said to be coated in real gold leaf—was a building that housed the orange lights that gave the cage its nighttime glow.

  I didn’t really know. I’d never been up there. And I had no idea how to get to the top of the building�
�I’d leave that up to the cop and the Guardian.

  Dags had pulled back the blood-soaked carpet—which I was going to need to replace—to show the pentagram underneath it. It wasn’t necessary for me to be in the pentagram to open the door into the Abysmal. It was more like a target.

  I’d discovered the pentagram back in November, when my mom and Rhonda decided to interrogate a succubus named Mitsuri. Let me go on record again as having nothing to do with this whole Wicca Magic Voodoo stuff. I’m a Wraith. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

  Though no matter how much fun I tried to make of things, I was getting increasingly worried about my mom, her body, and Rhonda. What was I going to find when I got to the Abysmal plane? A walking corpse? Was Rhonda one of the Shadow People by now? ’Cause you know I was still mad at her, but I really didn’t want anything too bad to happen to her.

  Unless I did it.

  Everyone went over what they were to do. Tim, Jemmy, Steve, Randall, and Boo were to guard the gate in the botanica. Joe and Dags were to get the Eidolon onto the roof of the Bank of America Plaza. TC was to wait at the corresponding point in the Abysmal plane.

  And I was to corral the Horror to where TC would wait.

  Okay . . . it all sounded so neat. Then why was I worried?

  Could it have been that usually plans that involve me went horribly wrong?

  TC grabbed my hair and pulled me toward him—and kissed me—before disappearing. I staggered back, my thighs tingling, and looked over at Joe and Dags waiting by the door. Joe’s expression was one of complete smirkiness.

  Dags looked—confused.

  Shit.

  I straightened up and smiled. “It’s his way.”

  With that, Joe grabbed Dags and, with an arm around the shorter man’s neck, tried to kiss him. Dags put his hand up in time for Joe’s lips to meet Dags’s palm. Joe released him and looked at the hand. “Is that Maureen’s or Alice’s?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Well, the goth chick is hot.”

  Dags reached up and whacked the back of Joe’s head. Joe gave a laugh, and the two left in Joe’s truck.