Phantasm

by Phaedra Weldon

  Died?

  I shook my head. “No—Daniel didn’t die. Rai died.”

  “No—you released Rai—and when you did, it severed Daniel’s spirit—and for a brief moment he was touched by the Abysmal, by Rai’s retreating essence. He died. And then he was resurrected once again.” She beamed. “Isn’t it romantic? But the truth is that Daniel never really believed it when he saw things. He’d always seen Tim and Steve because they’d made themselves corporeal, so even when he saw them as ghosts, he didn’t realize it. The boy’s about as perceptive as a ball of dough. It’s a wonder he ever made detective.”

  I chewed on my lower lip, half of my attention focusing on what she was saying and the other half on Joe. If she showed even the slightest intention of dropping him, I was going for him. Teleportation style.

  And yet—what she was saying made sense when I thought of everything we’d sussed out. Why Joe could hear me and Rhonda couldn’t. And then she could. Because I’d possessed her—and then she’d—

  Oh no.

  I finally understood. My God, why am I so damned dense?

  I’d overshadowed Daniel—stayed inside of him and made him sick. But the truth of it was—I’d also made him able to hear me. And if he could hear me—

  “He heard your conversation with Holmes. In his head while he was in the car, Zoë. It confused him, so he went inside, followed you, and he saw exactly what it was you did.”

  Oh damn.

  Oh damn, damn, damn.

  He’d seen me release Holmes’s tether, but he hadn’t understood it.

  And so he’d left me that night—and never really come back. He thought he was going crazy—and maybe he was. If he had known beforehand—if I’d told him about me. And about Rhonda and Nona, and Steve and Tim. He’d have been prepared.

  “So you see? You set him up all nice and depressed. And, once I was free, all I had to do was seek him out and slip inside,” the Horror said. “I tried to get into your mom’s body, but you had that damned triskelion around her neck.” She snapped her fingers. “Speaking of which—” She reached inside of Joe’s pants pocket with her left hand and pulled out the glowing blue necklace and chain and held it up. “This won’t work on me, bitch. I’m not technically a spirit to summon. So you’re gonna have to fight me one . . . on . . .”

  And she did it.

  “One.”

  She let him go.

  But I was already beside him before he fell even a foot, scooping him up in my arms when—

  BAM!

  She delivered a right cross into the left side of my face. I spun backward and nearly dropped Joe. She was back again on the other side and kicked me in the right kidney. I doubled over, amazed at how real and physical this body felt when compared to how things felt as a Wraith.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” the Horror said as she moved past me as if to strike again, but then paused. I was of little use in defense as I still had an unconscious Joe Halloran in my arms. “Every strike I make at you affects your body, Zoë. You’re still tied to a body.” She held out her hands. “I’m not!”

  And with that, she came at me again.

  But this time I was ready for it. I threw Joe into the air, roundhoused in midair and kicked the shit out of her chin with my nice, angry bunny slipper. As she tumbled back, I moved back to Joe, grabbed him, then dove away from the hospital in the direction of the Bank of America Plaza.

  I’d half expected to feel that kick I’d made—I mean, after all, she was me in a way. But I hadn’t. And that worried me. I could also feel her now, powering after us as my wings beat faster and I saw the triangular birdcage on top of the Plaza.

  But did she still have the Eidolon? Because no matter what she said, I didn’t believe her. I knew what that thing had done to me, and, using it the right way, I was going to put her in her place.

  Bitch.

  I was just able to land on a corner of the flat part of the roof, beneath the orange-glowing cage, before I felt her near. I ducked under one of the beams forming the cage and was able to get Joe to the shelter of the building housing those incredible lights. He was on his side and still as I turned and felt the blow of another of the Horror’s punches.

  Making a conscious effort to back away from Joe, I suffered several more of her blows before I finally ducked and landed one of my own square into her face. She hissed and moved sideways, and I instinctually ducked as her booted foot nearly clubbed the top of my head. Instead, her swing went wild and I powered straight up, threading through the girders of the cage and nailing her directly in the center of her gut.

  With her loud “ommph,” we moved up and away from the cage, two winged harpies duking it out over Atlanta. The whole time we fought, the wind picked up, and the skies darkened the night even more. There was a building of energy—but I couldn’t tell from my perspective if it had anything to do with us.

  Or if this was just another one of those freaky weather patterns.

  Knowing Atlanta—I was betting on the latter.

  One of the Horror’s blows caught me just a little to the side, and the sting from it echoed distantly. I knew my physical body had just taken a hard hit on that—and I was suddenly winded. Before I could regain my composure, the Horror was coming at me, both her hands out, and her sword appeared in one hand. I saw the Eidolon there, the chain threaded through her fingers.

  I got my hands up in time to stop the blade, moving my body to one side, but then I was pushed back, and into one of the gold-leaf girders. The gold fluttered off in the impact, and I could feel an odd current building. Not electrical—but Ethereal.

  And I somehow knew that Mom was nearby.

  And even though my thoughts kept wandering, looking for a new place to move or figuring out what to do next, the Horror was bent on one thing—destroying me.

  We slipped off the girder as one, and her speed pressed us down until we connected with the building’s roof, then slid down to the ground, several feet away from a stirring Joe.

  I was on my back, and she was over me. She couldn’t get her sword drawn because of the way she was holding me. But then neither could I. And then she hit me again with her right hand, then again. I wasn’t able to focus—my mind was dimming, and I knew I was losing touch with my physical body.

  Shit. Not yet!

  But the blows stopped, and I was too dizzy to react. She was straddling me, a white avenger on top of a black advent, and she was taking the Eidolon and wrapping the chain around my neck. I tried to get it off, but the chain itself was like steel, and she pulled harder and harder.

  “Die, damn you!” she said over and over. “Just be gone! I banish thee! I fucking—banish—thee!”

  My vision dimmed, much like it had when Mitsuri had done the same thing to me. But there weren’t any big smoky dragons looking for kibble this time. If I wanted to save my ass—and the world from this kind of menace—I had to do it myself.

  Think—what else do I have to—

  And then it was there, and I wasn’t thinking how to use it. With a scream I stopped trying to pull the necklace from my neck and summoned my sword and, as it materialized, I reached out with my right hand so that the blade, flaming, would drive straight into her heart.

  The pressure released abruptly, and I was gasping for breath. Was my body doing the same? Gasping somewhere for air? I took in several lungfuls before I tried to move or figure out where the Horror had gone.

  Or from which direction she would come at me.

  But I needn’t have worried.

  As I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked down the length of my torso, toward my bunnies, I could see her on her back, my sword sticking up out of her chest.

  Strike!

  I wanted to yell out loud as I pulled the Eidolon pendant from my neck and rolled up, to the right, then to my knees. The Horror was gasping as blood poured from the wound . . . and from her mouth.

  Blood?

  Since when did spirits or creatures of the Abysm
al have blood?

  And then she changed—her entire physical being shifted, molded, and became what it had been all along.

  Daniel.

  “Oh my God,” came a voice to my left, and I was only partially aware that Dags was there—moving from beside the small structure beneath the lights. He went down on his knees next to Daniel’s body.

  Daniel’s clothes were tattered and filthy, and his chest heaved up and down as he gasped for breath.

  Oh my God . . . what have I done?

  WHAT HAVE I DONE NOW?

  And I could just see the Horror, her image superimposed over his body as she lost strength as he did.

  “Take her now, Zoë,” came a strong, deep voice to my right. “Make the covenant with me.”

  Archer.

  I looked over and up at him. He was solid as he stood there, his full-length coat back and flapping in the wind. His shades were in place, and he was smirking. “What . . .”

  “Take her now! If you don’t, she’ll follow him into death, then they’ll both be gone. But if you take her back, then you can be the Wraith—you can retrieve his soul.”

  “What . . .” I looked back to Daniel. “How can you . . .”

  But Archer was on me, pulling me up to my feet by my right arm. He grabbed both of my shoulders, then held up the arm that held the Eidolon. “Put this around her neck—take her back, and we can join. Save him.”

  “Don’t do as he says.” Dags spoke up. “Daniel has to die.”

  Joe was behind him, staring wide-eyed at Daniel.

  “I—” I was sobbing. Openly, and I didn’t care. It was that day on the roof again—with me fighting TC and Daniel fighting for his life. “I can’t lose him. I can’t let him die—”

  And Archer was now in front of me, ripping off his shades, and I looked into his white, dead eyes. “Then you make a deal with me now. There is a way to save him—but you have to take the Horror back now.”

  Save him?

  To make another deal with the Archer?

  “Don’t do it,” Joe said as he stumbled near us. “Don’t let your heart make a stupid mistake.”

  I looked from Archer, to Joe, to Daniel. “I can’t help it, Joe.” I looked at Halloran. “I love him—I can’t let him die. Not like this.”

  “Then do as I say,” Archer said.

  “My God, Zoë,” Joe said. “This is a Symbiont—he just wants Daniel’s body for his own.”

  Archer was gone from me and stood in front of Joe, who took an involuntary step back. “I do not want his body, Detective Halloran. I want what’s best for me, and for the Wraith. There is a destiny here—”

  “A destiny? That you and Zoë will fulfill?”

  Archer paused. “You have no idea.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Joe said, and stepped back again. “And I want nothing to do with this.”

  But I was already on my knees beside Daniel. His left arm was out, and I took his hand in mine and kissed it as I bent near his face. He blinked suddenly and turned his head. He looked at me. His eyes focusing.

  “Zoë?”

  Tears ran over my nose and I smiled at him. “Yes, it’s me. It’s me.”

  “Oh, wow,” he smiled. “Your—your voice.”

  “Yes, it’s back. For now. But you’re going to have to be still for me, okay?”

  His expression darkened. “What happened to Holmes? Zoë—I saw him in that warehouse.”

  “I know, Daniel, I know. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you sooner.”

  His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. “Oh my . . . you have wings, Zoë. Did—did you die?” And then he looked stricken. “Did I die? Oh God—the nightmares . . .”

  “No,” I said, and touched his face. My fingers tingled where I touched him, and he used the hand in my own and reached up to touch my face. I could feel his life fading.

  “So beautiful, Zoë. I’m s-sorry. I was . . . in love with you.”

  OH GOD.

  And he closed his eyes.

  I dropped his hand and took the necklace in both my hands. I unclasped it and reached around his neck to fasten it.

  Nothing happened at first—

  And then the world exploded, and in the end, only Archer was beside me.

  35

  Last night, a tornado struck downtown Atlanta, Georgia. Several buildings were damaged—mostly from blown-out windows, which littered the street and Centennial Park below. The worst casualty seems to have been the Bank of America Plaza—whose illuminated birdcage construction was apparently struck by lightning—as the entire top is missing from the building.

  Cleanup efforts are under way, but city planners say it will take some time before the park and many of the surrounding buildings will be open again.

  THIS is getting old. Isn’t it?

  I know it is for me. But it’s my life, and no matter how strange and impossible it seems, I have to live it.

  What can I say about that night? Absolutely nothing. Basically because I can’t remember anything after putting the Eidolon around Daniel’s neck.

  That was March 28. It was April 23 today, and Joe was at the door with a huge basket of fruit in his hand. I’d been awake and somewhat coherent for three days. Everything was working—I could hear, I could see, my chest was mending as was my lung. The words miraculous and lucky were getting bandied about quite a bit.

  I’d also just learned I was in Gwinnett Medical Center—not a place I’d been to before. But they took my insurance—surprise!—and from what I’d learned they’d taken excellent care of me. Or rather, of my body. Apparently the Society of Ishmael, or the SOI, had donated a lot of money to the hospital and a few members were on the board of trustees.

  Sweet.

  And convenient. Since I knew the CEO personally.

  Joe stepped in and set the basket on the wheeled table, the kind found in most hospital rooms. Then he did something I hadn’t expected—he came straight to me and put his arms around me.

  And he hugged me. Tight.

  I hugged him back—and nothing could stop the shaking of my shoulders as the emotion that had waited for me to catch up came crashing down. Joe was the first person I’d seen when I woke. He’d been the only person, other than the doctor and a bunch of charismatic nurses.

  I loved nurses. Especially the night-shift nurses. I half expected Tiara to show up.

  Eventually, Joe moved away first and kissed my forehead. He was careful of the monitoring wires, but they were unnecessary. I was fine. I was healthy.

  And I was Wraith.

  He wiped at his face, making it look like he was running his fingers through his hair, then he reached out to the nightstand and picked up my dry-erase board. He scribbled on it, then turned it to face me.

  NONA AND RHONDA SAY HI.

  I smiled and nodded, and said to him, “Tell them hi. When are they coming to see me?”

  He took the board back. Erased. Scribbled. TOMORROW. STILL GETTING SHOP TOGETHER.

  I nodded. “Jemmy still there?”

  Scribble. Erase. Scribble. YEP. SAYS SHE’S STAYING TO HELP TIM AND STEVE.

  With that, I laughed. It was a hollow sound, my voice nearly gone. I shook my head as I watched him, and then said, “Will you show me now?”

  He nodded and closed his eyes. I’d been waiting for this—for the moment I could peek into Joe’s memory and see for myself what had happened. I lay back on the pillows and slipped from my body as easily as I ever had and moved into Joe’s.

  Overshadowing a willing soul was much easier than using force. And Joe’s mind was a jumble. I settled myself down inside the theater behind his eyes until he came strolling out of the darkness, dressed in black, and holding a bag of popcorn.

  I held up my hand. Uh, no thanks. I don’t think I’ll be wanting that.

  You sure? It’s really not that bad.

  I shook my head. Just show me.

  He knew what I wanted to see. I already knew the outcome but w
anted to see how it had happened. Are you sure? This might be more painful than I think you realize.

  I touched his arm. Please.

  The theater grew dark, then light. I could see me bending over Daniel, and my heart lurched when I saw the sword sticking out of his chest. I watched myself sit back—

  That was where my memory faded.

  Archer appeared behind me, then disappeared inside of me at the same instant the Horror did. My entire body glowed white for a second before the glow faded to gray. I saw Daniel’s soul rise, and I saw my Wraith self reach up and grab hold of it just as the Phantasm appeared behind where Dags stood.

  Time seemed to stand still as I viewed things from Joe’s perspective. Dags sensed something and turned just as the Phantasm waved its hand, and Dags’s body was sent flying to the edge of the roof, slamming hard against the concrete railing.

  He didn’t move.

  And then the Phantasm was yelling, his mouth wide open, his face no longer Dags’s visage but becoming something twisted, mangled, and completely unholy. I shoved Daniel’s soul back into his body, not paying attention to the shudder, the physical reaction of the soul being forced back in.

  Joe had his gun in his hand and moved in front of the Phantasm, who was nearing me. But the Phantasm grabbed Joe at the neck and tossed him aside—and I could see something trailing ever so lightly behind Joe. As if the Phantasm had taken something in that instant.

  And then I was in the air, as was the Phantasm. Each of us growing in size, each of us glowing bright, each of us pulling a sword—

  And then Maureen and Alice were there with wings of their own. Maureen shrouded Dags’s body, and Alice helped Joe back to Daniel and covered them both.

  And then there was a bright light.

  Things went dark. I sat in stunned silence and started to ask Joe a question. He held up his hand and pointed in front of us.

  Joe’s next memories were of men and women in firefighter uniforms, masks, and helmets. He moved and was told to be still. Beside him was Daniel—

  He’s—

  Joe nodded. Not a scratch on him.

  I put my hands to my mouth as stretchers were brought in and Daniel was given an IV and wheeled away. Joe was treated as well and forced to lie on a gurney as he was taken below. Then it was dark again, and he opened his eyes to see Rhonda leaning over him.