by G. P. Ching
Her fingers pressed against the fleshy roundness inside the envelope. Realization dawned. “It’s a human finger,” she said solemnly. “That’s what you’re smelling.”
“Wha—?” Cheveyo squeaked, glancing from face to face as if someone might say it was a sick joke.
But no one was laughing. Bonnie had told everyone in Eden about Cord’s drawer full of fingers. Each of them stared at the package with equal parts disgust and dread. Then the doors opened.
A small foyer greeted them with mirrored walls and a potted plant that, upon closer inspection, was artificial. Two sets of double doors formed the ends of the foyer, one to their left and one to their right.
“Which way?” Bonnie asked. She took a step inside and the elevator doors closed behind her. Cheveyo and Sam propped their packages against the wall and looked expectantly at Ghost.
“I don’t know,” Ghost said, arms wrapped around his abdomen as if he was holding himself together. “I didn’t go inside before, and I couldn’t possibly now.”
Sam hugged his shoulders with one arm. “It’s okay, Jess. Just rest.”
“Maybe the door’s open?” Cheveyo said optimistically. He looked from one door to the other, shrugged, then headed for the one on the left. He never had a chance to test the knob.
The door opened on its own. A hunched woman in a loose fitting dress and a babushka that hid her face, backed into the foyer, pulling a cart full of cleaning supplies. Cheveyo lurched forward to hold the door open for her. She muttered her thanks and wrestled her cart over the threshold.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell,” she said to Bonnie before pressing the button to call the elevator.
Samantha, Ghost, and Cheveyo entered the penthouse, but Bonnie lagged behind. Something about the cleaning woman was familiar. She caught herself staring, wondering if they’d met before.
The elevator doors opened, and the old woman backed her cart into the compartment. Their eyes met. The woman looked exactly like Bonnie, down to the mole on the right side of her face! Bonnie’s mouth dropped open.
“You’d better hurry, Mr. Maxwell,” the woman said with a wink.
“Wait!” But the doors closed, and the doppelganger was gone. Had she just seen God? No. It couldn’t be. The resemblance must have been an uncanny coincidence. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure she was mistaken. The scarf hid most of the woman’s face. Bonnie shook it off and entered through the open door.
Inside the penthouse, Bonnie paused to take in the heart-sputtering view. Lucifer’s abode was massive. A wall of windows bordered an open floor plan, and Bonnie was sure it was more open than most. The sixteen-foot ceilings provided an insane view of the city. Lucifer enjoyed living large, that was for sure. Sleek leather furniture was the focal point of the room, and Ghost had already made himself comfortable, trying to recover from overdoing it earlier.
“Let’s split up and search,” Bonnie suggested. Ghost looked at her as if she was out of her mind. “Not you Jesse. We need you to recover in case we need your help getting out of here.”
He flopped an elbow over his eyes and stretched out on the couch. “Brilliant minds think alike.”
Bonnie surveyed the layout of the penthouse. The glass walls seemed to bend in an arc following the shape of the building. She guessed the penthouse was a large oval with the elevators at the center. “I think this place is like a giant donut. Sam, could you take the rooms to the left. I’ll go right. Cheveyo, can you check out the kitchen and that bathroom?”
“Sure.” He looked across the living room, over the counter, and at the refrigerator. “Although I’m pretty sure if Abigail was here, you could see her. Am I looking for her in the cabinets?”
Bonnie shook her head. “Lucifer is the lord of illusions, Cheveyo. She won’t be in plain sight. Look for anything that seems strange or out of place. And be careful.”
He nodded.
The first room Bonnie entered was a library that looked rarely, if ever, used. Methodically, she jostled each book with no idea what she was looking for. A secret room hiding Abigail? Maybe. A bathroom was next. Then, a sprawling bedroom with its own bath. Another bedroom. Another bath. Bonnie searched each, running her hand along the top of the dressers, digging through the mostly empty drawers. Nothing. Not a clue to Abigail’s whereabouts.
A half hour later, she bumped into Samantha outside of a massive bedroom. “This place is huge,” she said.
“Fourteen thousand square feet,” Bonnie said. “Or so says Gideon. It was originally designed for an oil sheik.”
“Shit. Well, I searched like a hound dog. Nothing. Do you think Lucifer has her in Hell after all?”
The sound of falling footsteps drew their attention to the hallway. Cheveyo sprinted toward them, eyes wide and hands shaking.
“What’s going on?” Bonnie asked.
Cheveyo rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “I think there’s a soul in the kitchen!”
Chapter 18
Found
Abigail didn’t know much about Cheveyo. She’d never met him in person, except when he was residing inside Dane’s body, but she did know that his power had to do with possession. He’d possessed his friend Raine’s body and of course Dane. Possession had to do with inhabiting the body, but she’d heard Cheveyo could also sense a person’s soul. He’d been able to communicate with the people he’d possessed. Could he sense her soul, even if he couldn’t see her?
She approached him in the kitchen, waving her arms and crying out. He stopped, listened for a moment, and took off down the hall. Crap. How could she show him and the others she was here? The boy returned with Cord. For a moment, Abigail recoiled until she remembered Cord wasn’t really Cord, but one of the twins disguised as the Watcher. Bonnie or Sam?
A petite Hispanic woman jogged to Cheveyo’s side, the sweet scent of sunshine and honey wafting in her wake. The scent was a dead giveaway they were all Soulkeepers, no matter how menacing the one disguised as Cord looked.
“I feel her. Right here. I can’t see her but my gift knows her,” Cheveyo said.
Thank God! He could sense her. But what could they do? They couldn’t see, or hear her.
“Can you, like, possess her or something Chevy?” the Hispanic woman said. One of the twins, she was sure.
He passed his hand through Abigail’s torso. “Not if I can’t touch her.”
Abigail’s heart dropped. So close to salvation and still caught in Lucifer’s grip. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, a grown woman, crying like a child.
“Hey Bonnie, you could use the stone,” Cheveyo said, placing his hands on his hips and turning toward the Cord doppelganger.
So it was Bonnie disguised as the Watcher, which meant the other woman was Samantha.
“How can the stone help?” Bonnie asked.
“The red stone around your neck is the same one as Dane used to have, right?”
“Yeah. Malini gave it to me.”
“Well, when I was stuck inside Dane’s body, and he used the stone, when we got to the other side I was myself. Separate. With physical form. This cowboy guide who was helping us said the In Between was a manifestation of consciousness. Separate consciousness, separate reality, or some shit.”
Bonnie unbuttoned the top buttons of the dress shirt she was wearing and pulled the red stone over her head. “What do I do? Abigail’s not possessing me. How do I take her with me into the stone?”
Cheveyo rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure.”
Samantha chimed in, “Malini said you’re supposed to stare into the stone and blank your mind.”
“That will get me through, but how do I take Abigail?”
“Just because we can’t see her doesn’t mean she can’t see us,” Sam said. “Think about Jesse. He’s always there, even when he’s not.”
“So, you’re saying?”
“Let’s tell her to stare into the stone while you stare into the stone, and maybe she’ll hear us.
”
Brilliant, brilliant girl, Abigail thought. She approached Bonnie’s side.
“Did you feel that?” Bonnie asked.
“Feel what?” Sam said.
“Yeah, I did. A cold breeze passed between us,” Chevy said.
“Let’s do this. She’s here. She has to be.” Bonnie plopped down in the middle of the kitchen floor and pulled out the stone, dangling it between her fingers. “Abigail, if you can hear me, look into the stone.” She pointed at the gem to reinforce her command.
Abigail positioned herself behind Bonnie’s shoulder and stared into the red stone, clearing her mind. The change happened quickly. The red of the stone spread across the room, shingles of red glass tiling the space around her and Bonnie. She heard the girl scream as they began to fall. With a smack that bent her knees, Abigail landed in a dark room, and then the blackness peeled back, revealing a new reality.
The first thing Abigail noticed was the green. Giant trees surrounded her. Pines, redwoods, sequoias. Thick trunks reached for the light above and crowded her shoulders. She was at the center of a dense forest, and by the slope of the terrain and the giant boulders poking out of the forest floor, she would guess on the side of a mountain.
“Abigail?”
She turned around to see redheaded, freckle-faced Bonnie staring at her, full lips slightly parted.
Abigail nodded her head and started to cry, her hello catching in her throat. Bonnie opened her arms, and Abigail ran into them, accepting the younger girl’s hug, the first human contact she’d had in months.
“Thank the Lord,” Abigail said.
“What’s happened? What has Lucifer done to you?”
“I’m a prisoner. No one can see me or hear me aside from him. I’ve been living like a ghost for months in that place. I can’t leave.”
“How do we get you out?”
“I don’t know.”
A tall man in hiking gear rustled from the dense forest. His hand shot up to adjust his Life is Good cap over his brown hair, blue eyes flashing to Abigail and then Bonnie. “Welcome hikers. You three need a guide?”
“Three?” Abigail asked. She glanced behind her, to a young woman, petite, long golden brown hair, somewhat familiar. “Who are you?”
“Hope,” she said with a smile.
“Hello, Hope,” Abigail said softly. She opened her mouth to say more but the guide cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but my job is to get you three out of the woods.” He laughed heartily. “And I feel we should get started. My instincts tell me we don’t have a lot of time.”
“You are a part of the Healer?” Bonnie asked.
“Yes. An ancient part.” He pointed toward a footpath behind him. “I will lead you on the trail, and you will ask questions about the future. I will answer. Be thee warned, the future is a dangerous thing. Our fates are tangled and constantly changing. I can tell you the future as it stands today, but a single choice could change tomorrow.”
Abigail fell into step behind the guide. “Is this it? Is it time for me to be freed?”
“That’s a question about the present,” the guide said. “I can only answer about the future.”
“Oh, I get it,” Bonnie said. “It’s like Jeopardy. You have to phrase the question in terms of the future. How will I save Abigail?”
“Bonnie,” Abigail whispered. “You’re assuming you do save me. It’s an unsure future based on choices you haven’t made yet.”
“The question is valid,” the guide said. “Now let’s get you an answer.” He stopped, poking the underbrush with his walking stick. A family of fireflies rose from the underbelly of a fern and blinked their posteriors in the shade of the large trees.
“Lucifer’s spell is a lie. Bonnie, you will save Abigail by removing her from the space where the spell resides.”
Bonnie pressed a finger into her chin. “How will I remove her if I can’t see or hear her?”
“By removing her while you can see and hear her.”
“You mean, while she’s here, in the stone?”
The guide nodded. “Lucifer’s spell is an illusion. Abigail has both a body and a soul. You can’t see her because of the sorcery attached to the place she’s in, but if you remove the stone, while she is here, you will break the spell.”
“Thank God. How do I go back?”
“Wait,” Abigail protested. “Does Bonnie survive saving me?”
The fireflies circled each other. “Yes, although evil sees her for what she is.”
Abigail frowned.
Bonnie shook her head. “If evil hasn’t seen me for what I am yet, the revelation is overdue. I’m going to go back and get you out of there.” Bonnie sat down on the trail, crisscrossing her legs. “Send me back without Abigail,” she demanded of the guide.
“Don’t you want to know more about your future?” the guide asked.
“Not really. The future’s a scary place. I think I’ll rescue Abigail and take my chances.”
“Smart girl.” The guide placed one boot on her thigh and pushed. Red crystals formed around the twin, swallowing her body beneath the sole of his shoe. A black tear opened in the tree trunk behind her, receiving the falling crystal cocoon. Bonnie toppled into the darkness. The glass shattered. She was gone.
Abigail watched the bark stitch back together and thought of Oswald.
The guide continued down the trail. “What about you Abigail? Do you have any last questions for me?”
Nervously, Abigail glanced over her shoulder, wondering if Hope had questions too, but the young woman had lagged behind. She cleared her throat, mind racing with questions about her future. Like Bonnie, there were things she didn’t care to know. One question popped into her head, one that could help the Soulkeepers more than any other. “What is the next temptation?”
The guide halted. “Good question, Abigail.” His walking stick slapped the ground and a swarm of flies tornadoed from the underbrush, black and buzzing. The guide stared at the mass of insects for a long time.
“It is difficult to know the future actions of the evil one. Great evil is a tentacled virus, stirring up trouble in every direction. Nevertheless, there is a pattern to Lucifer’s choices. His time on Earth has left a thread, and his future is tangled with the Soulkeepers.”
“What do you think it might be?”
“Lucifer began with pestilence, gaining from the resulting addiction to the cure. He followed with ignorance.” The guide tapped his chin. “There is only one thing that the devil loves more than keeping someone physically weak and mentally confused.”
Abigail thought about that. Hadn’t the temptations mirrored what he’d done to her? First he’d made her body not her own, then he’d tortured her psychologically by isolating her. Then he’d threatened her with starvation. “Terror,” Abigail said. “Lucifer’s next step will be to terrorize humans into allegiance with him.”
The guide nodded. “That is what I see. Many will die. No place is safe.”
“I’ll tell the Soulkeepers. We’ll have to rotate in and out of Eden.”
“No place is safe, Abigail. Not even Eden.”
She shook her head. “Not even Eden?”
The guide met her blue eyes with his. “Not even Eden. Warn them, Abigail. Change is coming. Malini must protect the remnant.”
“The remnant? Do we lose someone?”
The guide didn’t have a chance to answer. The red came for her like a swarm of bees, aggressive and painful. Tiny red shards of glass swirled in the air around her, flushing her from the forest and into black nothingness. Abigail was spit out flat onto a carpeted floor, next to a round table. She gasped and coughed, feeling nauseous from the spinning and the movement.
Hands gripped her shoulders, strong, capable hands that smelled of sunlight and honey, and a brown face appeared in front of hers.
“There you are,” Cheveyo said.
Abigail turned her head to see Bonnie, still disguised as Cord, holdi
ng the red stone. “It worked, Abigail! You’re out.”
“Help her up,” Samantha said. “Jesse just texted me from out front. He heard security say Mr. Blake was on his way home. Apparently, Lucifer has quite a reputation. The staff is panicked.”
“We’d better get out of here,” Bonnie said, punching the elevator button with her elbow.
Abigail allowed Bonnie and Sam to help her to her feet. When Cheveyo looked at the whole of her, he gasped and his hand flew to his mouth. She suspected as much.
“What is it?” Bonnie asked, holding Abigail at arms length to get a better view. “She inhaled sharply, glancing from Cheveyo to Samantha who pressed a hand over her heart.
The elevator doors opened and Abigail stepped into the compartment. Lined with mirrors, she saw the first reflection of herself since coming to Lucifer’s condo. Cheeks gaunt, the dark circles under her eyes made her look like a skeleton. Her hair was matted, dull, and dirty. But it was the change in her body she would have rather not thought about that stood out. Stretching the fabric of her t-shirt, draped on either side by the oversized sweater coat and poking out above her yoga pants, her abdomen rounded from her bottom rib to her hipbone.
The others stepped into the compartment behind her. Bonnie was the first to say it out loud. “Abigail, you’re pregnant.”
* * * * *
Bonnie turned the key and hit the button for the atrium. Everyone was staring. You couldn’t miss it. On her skeletal frame, the pregnancy looked like she was smuggling a basketball under her shirt.
Abigail ran her hand over the mound. “Yes. I’m pregnant.”
The elevator descended into silence.
“W-well, it’s not Lucifer’s, if that’s what you’re thinking!” Abigail stammered. “It’s Gideon’s. I suspected I was pregnant before I left Eden. Lucifer never touched me. No one ever touched me.”
Bonnie opened her mouth, closed it again. She glanced at Samantha and Cheveyo. The descending elevator took on the ambiance of a funeral parlor.
