Walking Shadows
A Tale of the Abysmal Plane
A Zoë Martinique Investigation book 5.1
Copyright © 2012 by Phaedra Weldon
All rights reserved.
Published by Caldwell Press
www.caldwellpress.com
Cover Design Copyright © 2012 Design by Trap Door
Cover Image Copyright © coka | bigstock.com
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely fictional. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Mine and Daniel's little trip got postponed.
Why?
Rhonda.
Bitch.
I could think of a million different names I wanted to call her. I'd also daydreamed over the million different ways I could rend her flesh from her bones. She'd kept the hell away from me—and with good reason. I damn near killed her the last time I saw her. I wanted to choke her—I wanted—
I wanted…
I wanted her to give him back to me. But that wasn't going to happen. I knew it'd be a cold day in hell before she did it voluntarily. That…and Mom and everybody else was making sure I stayed the fuck away from her.
They just didn't want me to go all Evil Willow on her ass and get "bored."
Daniel was trying his best to get my mind off of my heartbreak. And he was succeeding, until Rhonda convinced the Society's board she needed him on her next mission. Why Daniel? WTF? There was any number of police academy trained…firearm experienced…detective…Revenants….
Well maybe not. He was the best-trained Revenant around. But she had to have him now? Right before he was going to take me away from all this shit?
Bitch did that on purpose.
I thought it was nice they let Mom give me the bad news. Figured I wouldn't kill her.
And they were right.
What I did do was lock myself in my apartment and shut off the phone.
It'd been two weeks since my return to physical life. Yeah, I'd been brought back two months before that, then spent a month recuperating from being food and oxygen deprived in the Abysmal Plane. Don't try this at home kids. It only worked for me because I'm speschull. That and apparently time moves much slower in the outer planes. What passed as four months on this side of the mirror was four weeks on that one.
No one was going to make me believe that, though. Because from my perspective if felt like four years.
Asshats.
During those months I was missing, Mom cut the hours at the shop. Jemmy ran it most of the time. And Joe came in and helped on those weekends he wasn't busy. He and I were on awkward territory. Mom told me he felt guilty for what Rhonda had done.
For stealing all of Dags' romantic memories of me. And taking him for herself.
Hard to believe, huh. My best friend chose the love of my life over friendship…and fairness.
She had what she wanted. And what did I have?
A tattoo…a streak of white hair…and evil bunny slippers.
It was Tuesday afternoon, December something. Ah hell. Christmas was in a few days and I never did go and help Jemmy put up the Yule decorations in the shop. Though I did stop by and helped myself to several pieces of her chocolate bark. Peppermint and spearmint candy, held together by white chocolate.
I didn't care if I gained weight or not. Fuck them all.
It'd been raining. No surprise there. We mostly got rain in the South in winter. I was on my balcony, sitting in one of the rockers I'd borrowed from mom's front porch, a cup of coffee in my hands, and a Snuggie draped over my front. I couldn't see the lights of downtown through the haze of rain and low hanging clouds but I could see lightening now and then. Pretty wicked. And a good setting for a pity party.
"Lover, you look like hammered shit."
Damn it. I wasn't in the mood. I closed my eyes and gave a long exaggerated sigh. "Can't you leave me in peace?"
"No. And you really don't want me too. Besides…I have a problem, and you're the only one I know who can investigate it for me."
He was beside me, sitting in the other chair Joe had given me. I could sense him without even looking at him—just like I could sense my arms and legs. He was a part of me, as he always had been. Just…he was different now.
I leaned my head back and turned to face him. "TC—you're the Phantasm. What the hell can I do that you can't?"
He looked the same as he always had when he was just a First Born. Vin Diesel. But dressed in a suit now. And no shades. His eyes were no longer white, but amber. Sometimes they were brown. They were always different when I saw him—like he was still trying to settle in.
Two months ago, this First Born, the last of the original Phantasm's children, put himself inside the Throne within the gentle care of the Geist so he could carry forth his father's legacy. He'd never been a Revenant. And he hated the Ethereal Plane about as much as I did.
Weird huh? I hated what some called Heaven.
And with good reason.
My father was there. And I don't mean my spiritual father.
"Walking shadows."
I gave him my best WTF look. "Come again? As far as I can tell," and I looked around the porch with my now ever-present Wraith Vision (maybe I should trademark that), "Shadows ooze. They don't walk."
He shrugged and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The rain had slackened a little but there were darker clouds passing behind the tops of the buildings in Little Five Points. "Not these. I got reports of zombies running around Buckhead."
Zombies?
"Don't we call those Lamias or something?"
"No…not these. Lamias are created by Ghouls. These things are created by something a bit more sinister." He licked his lips. "Ever heard of Sin Eaters?"
I sipped my coffee. It was already getting cold. Damn winter. "Isn't that what I do?"
He shrugged. "Jury's still out on that. What you do, I mean. Sin Eaters are, in truth, Dominions, which are another rung of Ethereal spin-offs. Now," he held up his hand when I opened my mouth to speak. "Just hear me out. Dominions are between Thrones—you know what those are now—and Virtues like your dad. They're the mediators between the upper class and the lower class in the Ethereal realm. Usually they stick to affairs on the Outer Planes and work internally there.
"But recently—well since the Bulwark—and the almost-Bulwark we escaped—several of them crossed the borders to deliver their judgment on Abysmal creatures living in physical bodies. Part of the plan to get rid of the Abysmal influence in the Physical Plane. They consume the human soul inside the possessed body."
I arched my eyebrows and leaned forward. "So?"
"So—that leaves whatever Abysmal creature that slipped into that body trapped in the body. Most creatures like Symbionts and Daemons can't really pilot a body. I think you'll remember what happened to your own body when a Daemon slipped into it while you were out?"
Oh, hell yeah I did. I'd been OOB, checking out a dead body in the women's bathroom at the Peachtree Plaza back in February, and a Daemon possessing a dead body hopped right into mine and took it for a test drive. Cracked my ankle, bruised it up pretty bad, and destroyed that nice dress I'd put on my mom's credit card. "Yeah…"
"This Dominion has been eating these souls, which has led to the soulless bodies wandering around and rotting. A human soul is what holds the fabric of the physical together, Zoë."
"I got it. So…what is it you want me to do?"
"There's a club downtown I need you to look at. It's not one most people know about. I only discovered it myself. But it's a haven for Ethere
als who like to slum it. And usually nobody cares. They're lower level celestials. Virtues, a few Principalities—"
"Prince-a-whats?"
"Doesn't matter. Just celestials caught in the Seraphim's caste system. They like to try out avarice now and then and see what it is they're missing. And my father, and even Sophie, indulged them. It's a place even Revenants could go and relax with impunity."
I leaned my head the other way and brought my coffee up to my lips. "But something's changed."
"Yep. It has. There's been another Revenant death."
That…wasn't what I expected to hear. I nearly choked on my coffee and set the mug on a nearby wicker table and narrowed my eyes at him. "I—no one's told me there was another death. Who was it?" My heart skipped. "Oh god, it wasn't someone I knew, was it? Re? Loki? Dagda?"
"No. This Revenant wasn't around when all the shit happened. You don't know this one—in fact I'm not sure where in the list my dad popped this one out."
I made a face. "That sounded awful."
"Well it's not like we were all born the usual physical way." He grinned. "Which seems kinda disappointing."
"I thought there were a limited number of you. Like only fifteen or so left?"
"Oh. Shit. Where did you get that number? Did you read Inanna's journal at all?"
"I read what you did. Before it got all sucked up inside of—" and that's where I lost it again. I couldn't even say his name. Instead I closed my mouth and looked straight ahead. I didn't trust myself to speak.
TC had been there when I'd learned what Rhonda had done, and that Dags didn't love me anymore. Hell, Dags didn't even know me. And to my surprise, TC—the old shit—had been very…nice to me. Maybe being a super-grand muckity muck was good for him. Shoulda happened sooner.
"There are more than fifteen, but less than fifty. We only give such a small number because we don't know where the rest are. We can only count those of us who stayed in touch. Those of us who kept close ties."
I nodded. "So who was it…and what happened. You think it was a this same Dominion making zombies?"
"The First Born's name was Zivena. Her Revenant host was Strauss. And as for what happened…" he was looking at me. "Yes I do. But this time, instead of just taking the human soul in the body, the attacker also drained her blood."
"Meaning…he knew he was taking on a Revenant."
"And that's what bothers me. I need to know who he is and if he's killing randomly, or targeting Revenants while taking out a few daemons and symbionts as collateral damage."
•••
Apparently there were five witnesses to this weirdness. Two were human with no idea what they'd seen. The other two were Symbionts—the old-fashioned kind—inhabiting humans. Why? I didn't know. Didn't care. Wasn't my bit.
Whoever this guy was, he was tall, slim, and had white hair. I wondered if he was older, but TC said the descriptions all said he looked like a young man. He had pale golden eyes and a stoic expression.
"So," we were inside my apartment in front of the fireplace. TC built me a fire. I had one of those gas fireplaces. Fake fire. Not a lot of heat but it looked nice. I'd been in this a week and still didn't know how to light it up myself. Otherwise Joe did it.
Debris from the movie party I had last night still decorated most any flat surface. I didn't feel like cleaning up. Dags had showed up without Rhonda. I hadn't thought that would be too big of a problem—until I got the call this morning to let me know Daniel wouldn't be back in town until Christmas Day.
But he did email me and let me know he'd make reservations and had tickets purchased for Friday. Rhonda might have postponed our good time, but she wasn't going to cancel it.
If she did that I'd kill her myself.
I sat on my new papasan (I left my old one at mom's). He stood by the fire. "This guy strolled into the club, walked directly up to Strauss and bit him. Like a Revenant would."
"And no one stopped him?"
"Everyone claimed the same thing—they couldn't move. It was as if their physical bodies were grounded to the spot. This guy drained every drop of blood from Strauss. When he left and they could all move, one of the Symbionts saw the First Born struggling to keep the body alive. But once bonded—" he rubbed a hand over his bald head. "A First Born can't exist without a body."
"TC, what exactly happens to a First Born without a body? I know what I saw and felt with Lex and her host, and I have it in my head that it's a terrible way for a Revenant to die. Can't they just go back to the Abysmal Plane?"
"Well—once a First Born bonds with a human, it can't physically return to the Abysmal Plane unless it were to return to its essence."
"Essence?"
"When you were in the Throne, do you remember seeing space?"
The mention of that vast, empty void that had always been around me in that egg shaped hell made me shudder.
"I see you do. That's what our father called The Well of Souls. It's what creation is made from—Abysmal and Ethereal. It's what our father made us from. And, if we bond with a human we mingle our essence with theirs. Mephistopheles says Revenants retain the memories and identities of every host they bond with," he rubbed at his chin. "And if they lose their host and can't re-bond—if another human won't invite them in—then the human soul and the Abysmal Essence become wanderers together because they are still bonded.
"Eventually the First Born's essence fades back to what it was and returns to The Well of Souls and the human soul now without a companion or a body becomes a shade. Or a Walking Shadow."
I leaned in. "What makes that different than a ghost or a shade?"
"Rage. Anger. Loss. Frustration. Lack of faith, or loss of faith. These souls, the humans left behind, become—for lack of a better word—pure evil defined by malicious actions. They get so bad even Shadow People steer clear of them. Their souls twist up like a gnarled tree stump and they delight in causing others terror. Or pain." He snapped his fingers. "Ever watched one of those paranormal shows? The ones with the really evil things in the house?"
"A few. Those things creep me out." Yeah. I'm a Wraith. And mean ghosts creep me out. Go figure.
"That's about as close as I can come to a concrete example."
"So…" I shifted in the papasan and pulled a blanket up over my legs. "Can you somehow—I don't know—put them back into a body?"
He gave me a look that said I was crazy. "Luv, physics being what it is, that's just not possible."
"Physics?"
"Come on Zoë. Basic physics says two objects can't occupy the same space simultaneously. We can't put them into a body that already has a soul if it doesn't want them in there. When First Born and human soul try to move in the nature soul possessing the body kicks them out. That's why a First Born has to be invited in. You have to be willing to be bonded. And before you ask, trying it with a dead body doesn't work either. Once a soul leaves a body it begins the unstoppable process of shutting down."
I impressed myself. I actually followed what he said. "So you want me to find this thing and stop it?"
"Yes, and I want you to find Strauss' soul. No one can find it. There isn't a trace of it in the club. Geist checked on the position of the soul—"
I held up my hand. "He can do that?"
"Well, of course," TC smirked. "Or have you forgotten what he is?"
Universal Mind. Holy Ghost.
Big Brain.
"So…where did it go?"
"We assume this creature has it. Usually Dominions judge and sentence the soul. Much like a Reaper. But I think this one kept the soul for itself."
"They can do that?"
TC pointed at me. "You do it. Or did you forget? But drinking human blood is a new thing for a Dominion. That's usually a craving and need relegated to the Revenant symbiosis. I think you—with your own adherence to souls—might be able to tell me what the hell he is. And possibly save some souls at the same time."
I set my now-cold coffee on the hearth of the fireplace.
"Exactly how am I supposed to find this thing? It sounds like it came out of nowhere, knew exactly what a Revenant was, and with no resistance from the Revenant or anyone else, drank its blood." I coughed. "Sounds to me like you got Dracula, dude."
"What I got is serious shit."
"Trouble at the old Abysmal Coral?"
"Yes and no. It's a lot like taking office, cleaning out the old, bringing in the new."
I folded my arms over my chest. "You seem to be settling in pretty good with this."
He looked at me. "Actually I suck at it. All I ever do is settle arguments." He held out his hands. "I need you to do this for me, Luv. Go OOB—" he stopped. "Can't really call it that anymore. You tend to stay in your body nowadays."
"I just call it going Wraith." I blinked. "You mean right now?"
"Well yeah—Manuel is already there."
"Manuel—" I uncrossed my arms. "My Manuel?"
He wasn't really mine. But ever since my ghastly heartbreak and subsequent almost killing of Rhonda Orly, Manuel had pretty much been as much a constant as Daniel. Manuel was the host Revenant to the First Born, Morgan. He was well mannered, seemed to be appreciative of everything, and was a little hottie. Fucker held one hell of a resemblance to Enrique Iglesias.
And though he looked like jailbait—kid had to have been bonded at like seventeen or eighteen—he was much older then me. He'd been born before World War II. And his First Born? We're talk'n ancient.
Mental Note: wait…when was the last time I had one of these notes?
Sidebar—I wondered exactly how old Morgan was. I learned that her previous host, Elizabeth, had been Jason's lover, and technically, Morgan and Mephistopheles were brother and sister…
Lalalalalala.
Either way—Manuel was a cutie, and I thought of his little boyish self as mine.
"He probably got to the club about a half hour ago. He's supposed to call if he sees anything."
"You're using Manuel as bait?" I stood up. I was not a happy camper. "You asshole—you can't do that to him! What if that thing grabs him and takes his soul from Morgan?"
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