I know my eyes probably widened to the size of silver dollars. I was impressed, but also made a mental note to turn the damned thing off in the future. I’m not sure how comfortable I was with being tracked. I also didn’t think that was legal.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Your detective friend is very worried about you. Apparently your mother found your room empty yesterday morning, and they identified the car left at Triangle Park as belonging to her.”
Yesterday morning? I frowned at him, trying to convey my own confusion.
“It’s Wednesday evening.”
Wednesday? What the hell happened to Tuesday?
Hirokumi gave me a very fatherly smile. “I’m afraid Rollins kept you sedated longer than you realized. And with good reason—with what you can do—he is afraid of you. More so now, if I suspect what has happened to you, has.”
I blinked at him. I really didn’t know this man—wasn’t sure I could trust him. I didn’t know how he knew about me. Or how he was really involved in Rollins’s weirdness.
I used my right hand and mimicked writing on my left palm. When Hirokumi frowned, I put a hand to my throat and shook my head.
His eyes widened. “Then it’s true…the Symbiont Archer has stolen your voice.”
Wait—is this like broadcast news? Is there a paranormal pod-cast out there just letting everyone know what happened to me?
I made the gesture again, and the businessman went to his desk and pulled out a pen and paper. The paper was a notepad with the logo of Visitar Incorporated on it.
HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME? AND YEAH, HE TOOK MY VOICE.
I’d hoped my writing hurriedly would convey to him how upset at this whole thing I was. But it just wasn’t the same—not having a voice to get really mean with.
Hirokumi read quickly and gave me another one of those fatherly looks. Only there was something else in his expression. Wariness?
He also looked dejected—kind of like a father who suspected his kid used drugs, then discovered his suspicion was right. And didn’t want it to be.
“The moment Mitsuri said a Wraith was present, we had a problem. If any unseen spirits were to be in that office, it would be the Symbiont we all know as the Archer.”
Ah-HA!
No wait. What?
I grabbed up the pad. YOU KNEW HE KILLED TANAKA.
Hirokumi nodded. “I tried to warn Daniel away from it all—to tell him things weren’t as they seemed.” He turned and pulled the small book I’d swiped from Rollins’s desk from beneath a stack of papers. “You got this from the Reverend’s office?”
I nodded. I’d forgotten about it.
“While you were there, did you see Susan?”
I shook my head, but I also scribbled. I THINK I HEARD HER BEHIND LOCKED DOOR.
“Then she was there and she was still alive,” Hirokumi said in a low voice. “What did Rollins say to you? Do you realize what this is?”
1ST: HE SAID THINGS NO SENSE. 2ND: NOPE.
I rechecked my writing and realized I was starting to abbreviate things. And not in a good way. I was feeling a bit tired already.
Uh-oh. So soon? How much energy do I burn up when I stay physical like this?
“Did he tell you the reason for all this madness? What it was I possess and he would kill to have returned?”
I shook my head on that. I was pleading dumb on this one.
Hirokumi stood and tossed the book on the desk. He went to the other side and unlocked either a drawer or safe out of my line of sight. After a few seconds he pulled out a manila folder with a blue tab on it. I’d seen folders like this in the doctor’s office. Sort of like a patient file.
He slid it across the desk at me. I picked it up. The side tab read Theodore Rollins. Uh-oh. I opened it. Lots of typed paper. There were a few of those red, pointy stickers—kinda like the ones used on documents nowadays to let you know where to sign—stuck in several places.
I read those places first—and then read them again.
I looked up at Hirokumi. He was sitting in his chair, his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped in front of him. He’d read my expression perfectly. “Yes—Rollins had cancer.”
Had cancer. I looked back down at the dates. This was impossible. These papers said he was diagnosed—twice with a second opinion—over twenty years ago.
Could someone survive with cancer for twenty years? And come to think of it, that would have made him in his early thirties at the time of diagnosis. The man that had had me by the throat didn’t appear to be suffering from anything—except maybe overexcitability.
“Those are the documents of a man who should be dead.”
I looked at the papers in my hand again. I thumbed through them, scanned the doctor’s scribbled notes—okay—I deciphered what I thought they said. All of them gave a diagnosis of death within a year.
“His body was riddled with it—two surgeries exposed the cursed poison to oxygen. There was nothing anyone could do. He would have died before he was thirty-one.”
I looked at Hirokumi. “How?” I mouthed this to him.
The businessman reached for a small, ornate wood box on the top of the desk. It was set askew to the side, and I thought maybe it had cigars in it.
Hirokumi brought out a dragon statue, which I assumed was the one Mitsuri had had in his office, and lit the tongue. I forced myself to remain calm. If I got sucked into the thing, then well—cover was blown, and I was so toast.
But the smoke didn’t rise into a dragon, nor did it seem to be paying attention to me at all.
The man clapped his hands and spoke some weird words. I swear I saw something move in the air between it and me as the lid popped open. Hirokumi opened up the box, and all hell broke loose.
At least for me.
They were shadows at first, little glimpses of black wisps of smoke that dove about in the air. I thought for a minute that they were little gnats wearing bits of gauze—but that was silly.
Then several of them flew at me and hovered in front of my eyes.
They had faces—human-like faces—with big teeth and bug eyes.
If I’d had my voice, I’d have been screaming like a girl as I swatted at them, though not one of the gnats actually bit me.
Then abruptly the smoking dragon came to life—or the smoke did—and I swear I heard those little creatures squeal as they were sucked into the dragon.
“You can see the guardians?”
If you mean the gnats from hell—fuck yeah. I nodded but kept looking around for them.
“Interesting.” He reached in his desk and pulled on latex gloves before reaching in the box and removing a single, folded piece of parchment.
Okay—that definitely wasn’t a porno tape.
He unfolded it carefully, placed it on the table, turned so I could see it. It looked like it’d been written with a quill pen, all blobby and sketchy. And like anything set in front of me, I started to read it.
It was a contract, set forth between one Theodore Rollins and something that just wasn’t pronounceable. At least not for me anyway.
But that wasn’t the weird part. No…that was several lines down in the archaic script.
According to this, Rollins had sold his soul for long life and good health.
Oh…was that all? Where was the tag line asking for wealth and fame? If I sound sarcastic, it’s because I was. This was sooo cliché. I mean…a contract between Rollins and what I assumed was the devil over his soul.
Oh how ultimately formulaic can we get here people?
I grabbed up the paper and shook it at Hirokumi. That’s when I saw the man’s horrified expression.
“What?” I mouthed at him. Oh I REALLY wished I had my voice back.
He stood slowly, and shakily I might add, before pointing at the paper. “Your hand…it does not burn?”
Burn? I set the paper down on the desk and looked at my hands. No—no burns. I turned them to face him. See?
Hirokumi took the paper and
refolded it before setting it back inside the box. After closing the box and relocking it, he removed his gloves. I waited impatiently for some sort of explanation.
Instead, he turned to a compact cell phone and flipped it open. Speed dial, and he was speaking Japanese into it.
As he hung up, I heard the sound of a door sliding open. I turned to see a wee little man in a black suit enter the same door I’d come through. White, stringy, thin hair hung in a semicircle from a bony head and pooled against his black lapels. A Fu Manchu mustache hung over his upper lip, and the light from the room’s lamps shone off of the top of his bald head.
Hirokumi returned the bow.
“This is my seer, Rai Keitaro.”
Sure it was. I stood from my chair and faced the man. Standing at full height, he barely came to my navel.
Rai bowed and peered up at me through heavy, folded eyes. He nodded as he started walking around me. Hirokumi moved to drag my chair out of the way. I felt like the center of a merry-go-round.
The little fucker was making me dizzy.
Hirokumi said something in Japanese and nodded to the box. Rai nodded but held up his hand as if to indicate silence.
I noticed something then. It was soft at first. Whispers in my ears. Vague, wispy images moved in the air around Rai, yet somehow I knew that he knew they were there.
“Yes, yes,” Rai said as he mumbled to himself and stopped in front of me. He glanced at Hirokumi. “Kado.”
Kado?
Like in OJ’s houseboy?
Rai shook his head. “No—Kay-doe. Not like ‘t’ sound.” I blinked at him. Did he hear my thoughts?
Rai shrugged. “Some of them. Very untrained. American woman. Brash. Unpolished. You look Greek.”
Irish-Latino, bud.
The little man shrugged again and clasped his hands together. “Same difference. You all look alike. Very beautiful.”
I laughed. Well, in theory I did. Looked kinda funny with no sound. I liked this old guy.
Hirokumi stepped forward. “Is she a Wraith? Was Mitsuri correct?”
Like we needed clarification from the little toad?
“Yes and no—not quite. Unique.” Rai touched his own throat. I noticed the wispy things again, just briefly. What the hell were they? “Not like me anymore.”
Not like him…was he a Wraith too?
Rai looked at me. “No.”
“You can hear her?” Hirokumi said.
Rai nodded. “I told you already—some things. Some thoughts are loud, others muddled. Very chaotic up here.” He reached up to his own temple and tapped. Then with a frown, he reached out and poked my middle with a crooked finger.
Ow.
Okay buddy, if you can hear me, I’d like some answers, like did Trench-Coat turn me into a Wraith, and what does all this have to do with Rollins?
Rai gestured for me to sit. I grabbed up the chair Hirokumi had moved away and turned it to face the little man. I wasn’t missing this—I somehow knew I was about to get the first real answers since my first encounter with Trench-Coat in that building.
“Trench-Coat—very amusing. American moniker. Many worlds center around this one—this world is the physical plane.” Rai held his right hand out in front of him, palm down as if indicating a flat surface. “Middle of things. There are worlds above, and worlds below.”
Okay. Physical plane is the middle, yadda, yadda, yadda. Above and below, like Heaven and Hell?
The man shook his head. “No. More complicated than that. No good. No evil. Simply is.”
Ah…like the mental, the astral, then the Ethereal and the Abysmal?
He smiled. Little gnome was missing quite a few teeth. “Yes. Exactly. You saw guardians.” Rai nodded toward the smoking dragon.
I nodded. Then I frowned. Now how come the smoky dragon inside didn’t come out and try to eat me this time? Is it because I’m corporeal?
Rai smiled at me and winked. “Yes to that. But they are on one plane of existence. Several levels above and below, existing within the Abysmal.” He gestured to a space below his hand. “The closer to the physical plane, the stronger the being. Mortal existence, the soul”—he pointed to Hirokumi—“come from one plane, experience this world, and then move on to the next. Sometimes return for new lessons.”
I glanced at Hirokumi. How come Rai didn’t point to me or to himself?
“Mortal souls are different because they can transcend planes. They can move beyond levels of existence to become all things.”
I nodded. Okay, so a soul can reach enlightenment. Basic Religion 101.
He nodded. This kind of communication was better than the notepad.
“They—other beings—they want physical existence. They want carnal pleasure. They crave this plane, but forbidden to be born. They have no soul, no transcendence.”
That would suck. So they just float around watching us?
“Some can, some can’t. Different levels of being have different abilities. They have their own world, one a mortal cannot see.” He smiled at me. “As what you call a Traveler, I live in two worlds, the physical and the astral. But as a Wraith, you…” He smiled when he paused. It was very creepy. “You live in all worlds. One foot in, one foot out. You bring death, and you bring life. You live in all”—he leaned toward me, his expression abruptly sad—“ but you can never reach peace in any of them.”
I blinked. Never reach peace? No shit. Ever since I’d met Trench-Coat, I hadn’t known a moment’s peace. Things had changed since he first touched me. I thought of the way things looked now when I went out of body, and wondered if instead of viewing life through the astral, I hadn’t been viewing it through the Ethereal instead?
Rai nodded. “That is precisely correct. The Symbiont Archer—his touch changed you. Broke rules—probation and doing well—until you came along.”
Say what?
“He in big trouble.” Rai shook his head. “The Archer was making amends with his creator—asking for pardons—no longer Archer. Then you show up. But you were different when he touched you. You are Kadobashi. The gateway’s bridge. Through you he can attain the physical, but only if he can possess you. He must take and master you piece by piece, before you master him.”
You mean like my voice?
“Honorable sir,” Hirokumi said, interrupting us. How rude. He bowed. “I do not wish to hurry you, but my daughter. I must know what to do. Does she possess the power of a true Wraith?”
Rai nodded to Hirokumi but looked immediately back to me and our two-sided conversation. “Yes, your voice. But know that a balance must always be maintained between the worlds.”
I was getting a bit frustrated, basically because I felt like I was missing something. I didn’t understand what any of this had to do with Trench-Coat and my voice, and what Rollins was so upset about.
The little man pointed to the box. “By the terms of this contact, the Reverend was given a Symbiont that lived alongside the soul. It protected the Phantasm’s prize while it healed his physical ills. Destroy all cancer. It gave him long life and it gave him power. But the Symbiont grew more powerful the longer it remained in the physical world. The Reverend was a weak man.” Rai shook his head. “He succumbed to the Symbiont and now lives in the mental plane, within his body. He may see the world, but he has no control.”
Hirokumi jumped in, evidently thinking his own seer wasn’t fast enough for him. “As long as Rollins possesses this contract, the Symbiont’s home inside of his body is safe. But if he loses this contract, then he forfeits his rights and Rollins’s soul belongs to the Phantasm and the body dies. The Symbiont ceases to be if the Phantasm dismisses it.”
Oh ew. That creepy man isn’t really a man? And he’d been in my face?
“Yes.” Rai said, taking over the info-dump again. “The Archer was sent to retrieve the soul of the Reverend since the contract was no longer in his hands.”
Ah! So if he still had the contract, Trench-Coat wouldn’t be here.
; “Yes.” Rai glanced at Hirokumi. “Koba has the contract and somehow a stray spirit or creature discovered the original owner no longer possessed it.”
I was thinking one of those little nasties I’d seen come out of that box was probably the narc. Then again, all bets were on the Symbiont Rollins said he conjured to taunt Tanaka. What you wanna bet that thing ran home and told the Phantasm?
And in comes Trench-Coat.
“Tanaka had tried to barter with Rollins, claiming he could get him the contract. He wanted money. Power. Things I would never give him.”
Talk about greedy—Tanaka had been the vice president of a multimillion-dollar company. And he wanted more?
Sheesh.
Hirokumi looked sad, which explained to me the look he’d had on his face in his office when he’d spoken with Daniel. “William tried to take the contract, and it burned his bare hands. The document marked him so the Archer could track him like a bloodhound. When it did not find the contract, it became angry and took Tanaka.”
Okay. In laymen’s terms, Tanaka’s death had been his own fault. And Trench-Coat was an otherworldly bounty hunter.
Greeeeat.
I looked at my own hands. They weren’t burned and I’d touched the damned thing.
“I believe you were unaffected because you are already a part of the Abysmal world.” Hirokumi took a step forward. “As a Wraith.”
That freaked me out. I was a part of this dark, invisible world? I started rubbing my hand on my thighs, the rough areas on my palms snagging on the silk.
“The Archer’s goal is to retrieve the soul, destroy the body and the Symbiont housed inside.” Rai clasped his hands again before him. “And I believe it would have, and things would have righted themselves.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Until it encountered you. You drew it away from its purpose, enticed it. It broke rules when it took your voice and if the Phantasm that sent it discovers the betrayal, it will send more Symbionts, more chimeras and nightmares to destroy it as well as Rollins. Because if the Archer possesses you, then it could become more powerful than the Phantasm that created it.”
Hirokumi shook his head. “We can’t allow that.”
This did not sound good at all—especially because it sounded like it was my fault. And that wasn’t sitting right with me.
Wraith Page 30
