Dominion: Zoë Martinique Investigation, Book 6

by Phaedra Weldon

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Tell me again what it was he said?" Joe drove his small truck as fast as he could down Ponce de Leon. Mom's house was off of Euclid, a turn from Moreland Avenue. With the rate of speed Joe abused on the secondary roads, I'd already braced myself to shift into Wraith and grab him by the collar in case he crashed into something.

  Which…brought to mind a question I'd been tossing around. If I grab hold of someone and go Wraith and incorporeal, do they do it, too? Back when Allard Bonville had taken Dags through the Abysmal Plane, I'd grabbed hold of Dags to go with him and try to protect him. Well, actually, I'd tried to pull him back, but at the time I didn't know how, and Bonville had been pretty good at magic.

  "He said the Seraphim wanted the Eidolons. But he called them the magic stones."

  "Yeah, that was one of the names I'd read on them, too. Back when I was trying to intercept their shipment."

  "You mean back when Charlie Holmes was killed?"

  Joe glanced at me and nodded. "Yeah. To be honest…that's how I know Tamera Moultrie. She was one of my informants."

  My jaw hit my thighs. Ouch. "Wait…back up. You once took information from that skeezy harlot who called my mother on the carpet and accused her of doing unnatural things?"

  "Your mother has done unnatural things."

  "That's not my point." I waved at the air. I had to regroup to find my point. "You paid Tamera for information on occult things?"

  "No. Not on occult things specifically. Tamera was an investigative reporter at the time, and she and I worked back and forth on a few cases last year, while Daniel was having his problems with Heather."

  Heather. Daniel's crazy ex-wife. Dead…ex-wife. Oh God, I hoped like hell her body didn't show up in some fashion. That would just be bad. "So, she found out about the shipment of those stones?"

  "Yep. Her relationship with Francisco Rodriguez was more of a…hateful one. I didn't know the background and didn't want to. But she had followed him through his career and watched him, so when the shipment of coffee was scheduled to come in that night, she'd intercepted some weird calls between Francisco and the shipper. The term magic stones came up, so she called me."

  "What happened?"

  He turned left on Moreland and did not slow down. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, Charlie got shot. Something went wrong."

  I'd known Detective Halloran long enough to gauge when he was upset by watching his expression. So when he pursed his lips, bingo. "Someone—though she didn't know who—slipped her something. It killed her."

  My jaw dropped again. "Are you saying Daniel and I rescued a zombie?"

  "No, she's…" He shrugged. "I don't know what she is. She's different now because of me." This time he looked at me. "And because of Dags."

  Dags? I twisted against the seatbelt to face him. "What do you mean, because of Dags? What does he have to do with Tamera Moultrie?"

  "Can we talk about this later?"

  "No."

  "Please, Zoë. I'm more worried about why a creature as powerful as the Seraphim has to have some magic stones to use the Grimoire." He didn't let me answer him, and honestly…I wondered it myself. "I mean, I know Maureen's a Familiar and that has a bit of power to it. But even as a protective power over Dags, how can she possibly stand up to something as über as the Seraphim? I mean…you think she could stand up to TC as the Phantasm?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "Maureen would have to be some kind of…ultimate planar herself. And she's not. She was a human. She was Dags' girlfriend at one time."

  Ooh. Forgot that part. Maybe that's why she was so protective?

  His frustration was evident in his tone, and I understood it. We were once again back in a situation with a lot of questions and no answers. Dags and Rhonda were missing, we were pretty sure now that the Seraphim had them, but for some reason it couldn't get to the Grimoire inside of Dags' soul.

  Also, my rapist was back—why? To rattle me? In my opinion, if your purpose was rattling someone, then you were doing it because they frightened you. The rapist had my father's mark on him, meaning he was controlled by Adiran Martinique. After having been locked into the Abysmal Plane Throne by him, I could believe anything devious about my father.

  Believing my mother had sicced that guy on me and Barry those years ago…that was harder. And why? To crack the spell she'd set on me when I was a 'tweener?

  See? Questions, 1,000,000,000. Answers, 0.

  Two black-and-whites sat outside the house. The GBI's CSU truck sat to the right. Joe could go in, but me? Joe told me to stay cloaked—his term for incorporeal—and move close to him. I was going to argue, until I saw Mastiff.

  I didn't feel much like hovering like I had at the park. I had another idea.

  "What?" Joe frowned at me as he put his hand on the driver's door. He'd grabbed his gun and put his badge around his neck. Mastiff was already hoofing it to the truck. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

  "Just…don't get mad. And even though I know you can hear me in your head…I think this is a better choice." Before he could protest or ask what I was going to do, I dove inside of him.

  Back when I was going OOB, out of body, I discovered I could overshadow someone by slipping my astral self into their body. I hadn't done it since I'd started shifting to Wraith while still wearing the meat suit. So I wasn't really sure I could do this. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else to do this to.

  Only Joe.

  His reaction was a bit more dramatic than my own as I settled back into the little theater behind his eyes. It was a lot like I remembered it. Dark room, no real solid walls, and the huge screen up in front of me. I could see what he saw and hear what he heard. But there was something else…a really odd whirring noise coming from what felt like all around me. "Hey, Joe…"

  When Joe didn't answer, I realized he'd slumped against the steering wheel. The screen in front of me was blank. Oh shit!

  "Hey, Joe." I could hear Mastiff wrenching the truck door open, then I felt Joe's body being moved. "Hey, buddy…can you hear me? Are you okay?"

  Get up, wake up! No no no…this isn't what was supposed to happen!

  "Really?" Joe said, and the screen sort of faded in. I could make out blurry images of the truck's windshield, the top of the steering wheel, and then Mastiff's face. "Buddy? After everything you've been threatening me with?"

  Whew…he sounded okay.

  "I am not okay! Get out of me!"

  I put my hands to my ears. Ouch. Loud.

  Joe sat up and I sat down on the floor so I wouldn't get dizzy. Can you hear me?

  "Don't shout."

  "Joe? I'm not shouting. Are you okay? You don't look so good. In fact, you've been looking a little rough these past few days."

  Oops. The don't shout was for me. So I stayed quiet.

  "Sorry, George. I haven't been sleeping well." Joe waved at Mastiff to move back as he grabbed the truck's door frame and pulled himself out of the cab…and fell on his knees.

  "Shit…Joe, something is very wrong with you."

  "No, no…I'm fine. Just a little bitchy bug I need to exorcise as soon as I can."

  !!!

  I am not a bitchy bug!

  "I told you never to do this again."

  Deal with it and get in the house.

  "Bitchy bug."

  "Maybe you need some time off?" Mastiff helped Joe to his feet. "You've lost weight."

  "Gee, thanks, Marge." Joe's tone dripped sarcasm. "I got this." He moved to his feet and leaned on the bed of the truck. "I'll be fine in a minute. Just need to get used to more added weight—"

  Ah!

  "—so why don't you fill me in on the shop?"

  Mastiff glanced back at the house. "CSU's in there now doing their thing—"

  "They got here fast."

  "Well, they were in the area already, over on Moreland. Someone broke into Abbadabba's."

  I frowned. Abbadabba's was one of the premier footwea
r places in Atlanta. I'd bought my first pair of bunny slippers there several years ago and often went there just to see Woshi the cat in the Little Five Point store. It was a sad day in all of kittydom when Woshi passed away.

  But why on earth would someone break into a shoe store?

  "Why would anyone break into a shoe store?" Joe echoed my thoughts, although I doubt what I was thinking was any great influence on his mind.

  "Dunno." Mastiff shrugged. "The owners are there now taking inventory, but so far the word is nothing was stolen. That break-in occurred early yesterday morning and CSU got there this afternoon. They were finishing up when we got this call, so…" He gestured to the house. "Here we are."

  "Anything stolen here?"

  "Not that I can tell. Or anybody else. The neighbor insists Ms. Martinique's necklace was stolen, but we'll have to wait until Ms. Martinique can recover and have her do an inventory…" He leaned his head toward his right shoulder as he studied Joe. "Unless you can convince Zoë to help? I'm pretty sure she knows about her mother by now."

  "Mmhm. I saw the cops you had at the hospital. I doubt Zoë's going to show up anywhere with cops just so you can take her into protective custody. Just leave it alone, George. You know Zoë's special…ah, I mean unique gifts. I'll let you know if there's any development with Frasier or Gibbons, though I still say you're trying to finger the wrong guy for the rapes."

  "I told you," Mastiff said as he filed alongside Joe as they walked toward the house. It was a weird feeling…'cause Joe just felt really off balance. "I agree with you. Gibbons is the rapist and murderer. But Frasier is somehow tied to all of this."

  "No. He's not," Joe said as they neared Mom's. "How long before I can go in?"

  "Soon as they're finished. Shouldn't be long."

  "Shouldn't be long" translated to "two hours." The sun had peaked over the trees when they packed up their vans and left. Mastiff kept one black-and-white parked on the premises and offered to get coffee while Joe did a walkthrough. If Mastiff suspected Joe was up to anything, he didn't show it.

  Does Mastiff know about your magic?

  "No."

  So he won't suspect you're about to do mojo.

  "Zoë…get out now."

  He was pretty emphatic, and if I wasn't a stronger person, I'd be taking his anger as rejection. Fine. But first, what is that whirling noise?

  "That's the Orbital Veil spell. Remember?"

  Oh, right! He had things whirling around him. Was this what it was like to be on the inside of that thing? Can you always hear it like this?

  "I don't hear anything but you, and you're giving me a headache. Now get out, Zoë!"

  Pushy. I didn't want him angry at me. In fact…I couldn't really remember if Joe had ever been angry at me. Are you mad?

  "Zoë…"

  I figured it was better if I slipped out and then remained Wraith while I looked around. But just as started my jump out, I caught sight of those whirling objects. Holy shit! The image made me want to duck. I saw a clock, several books, a piece of paper, a cup, a small box, and what looked like a knife.

  You have a knife in there.

  "Zoë!"

  I jumped out and hovered beside him. Joe, on the other hand, grabbed the railing along the back porch. He lowered his head, and I put a hand on his arm. "Joe?"

  "Please, Zoë…don't do that again. It's bad enough I've got this extra, weighted, whirling veil all the time, but then to have you hitch a ride…" He looked at me, and I noticed the circles under his eyes again. "In your body, I might add. It's just physically exhausting."

  Shit. "I'm sorry, Joe. But…I saw a lot of junk in that thing when I was stepping out. Can't you get rid of some of it?"

  "I will." Joe straightened up and took a deep breath. "But Nona's right—I need to keep the heavy stuff in so I can adjust to the weight and not be caught off guard. It's like…before you go on a hiking trip. You practice moving around with the backpack fully weighted down so when it comes time to the actual hike—"

  I waved my arm in the air. "Yeah, yeah. You're not weighted down by the pack and get tired so fast." I'd made sure I was physically between the two planes of existence, more of a Shade, so that Joe could see me but no one else could. The hearing me part…well, I had to be careful there. If one of those uniformed police officers stepped in while I was talking, he'd hear me and think Joe wasn't alone.

  Or he'd think Joe was as loopy as the department suspected and was now talking to himself, and answering.

  In a girl's voice.

  Creepy.

  "Ready to take a look?" Joe put his hand on my ashy arm.

  I looked down at it, always amazed at his warmth. "Yeah." I saw real concern in his face. This was my mother's home, a place she'd built with a lot of hard work and sacrifice, and something other than a Phantasm had come into it and physically attacked her. Whatever it was had been powerful enough to withstand my mom's defense magic and go through her wards.

  The whole place screamed danger and he was concerned for me.

  I moved my arm to slip my hand in his, and gave it a squeeze and winked. "I'll protect you."

  Chapter Eighteen

  I'm not sure what I expected to find when we stepped inside, but the mess blocking our way into the kitchen was enough to send me into a fit of anger. I stood in the doorway, a half-visible Wraith with her wings tucked into her back, squeezing the shit out of a cop's hand.

  "Zoë…."

  I let go, and he moved forward, then stopped.

  "What is it?" I continued to look at the mess in the kitchen. Every cabinet was open, a few of the doors hung by their hinges, both lower and overhead cabinets. Pots, pans, glasses, utensils…all of it scattered on Mom's formerly spotless kitchen floor. Even the freezer contents sat on the floor in puddles of water beside what had once rested comfortably in the refrigerator.

  "The wards," Joe said as he took another step into the kitchen. He picked his way through the mess and then offered me a hand. I didn't want to touch him. Not in my present mood. I wasn't going to risk sucking his soul out just because I was in a bad mood. Instead, I lifted up and hovered above the mess and vanished.

  "Yeah, well…" Joe muttered and continued his way into the house.

  The shop was totaled. The intruder had broken every table and chair and smashed the windows out in the front of the house. The cake- and pie-display glass was smashed, the desserts covered in glass. The beaded curtains that separated the tea shop from the botanica had been rendered into little more than a scattering of beads. Joe tried to not step on them, but the crushed ones were evidence the police and CSU team hadn't been as careful.

  What about the wards? I moved into the botanica. The disaster seemed to be worse in there. My papasan chair cushion was ripped to stuffing. Books littered the floor. The only evidence there'd ever been statues on the mantel was the pieces of them still there and on the hearth below.

  "Well, they're…broken."

  What does that mean?

  "Means whatever came in here didn't have much of a barrier to get through. Everything feels…" He shrugged and went quiet.

  I sieved upstairs, although I pretty much figured it looked the same. And I was right. Mom's room was a mess. I hope she never saw it looking like this. I'd need to get whatever furniture was salvageable repaired and buy her new stuff to replace what was beyond fixing. This guy had even ripped her clothing.

  My room was in the same state. I nearly lost it when I saw what remained of my headless Mary lamp. I went corporeal enough to pick up the little woman's torso. Now she didn't have a head or a bottom. The rest of the lamp was in pieces. I heard Joe coming up the stairs, so I dismissed the Wraith. Now I was just…me.

  He approached me where I stood in the center of the small landing. My door was open, a was Mom's and the door to the bathroom that joined my bedroom to the spare. I hadn't bothered looking in the bathroom. The pieces of glass just inside the door on the floor gave me a clue to its condition.

&
nbsp; I wasn't surprised when he put his arms around me. That's just Joe. Caring. Loyal. And compassionate. I wrapped my arms around him as well and just let my emotion tumble out the only way I knew how.

  Joe didn't tell me to hush, and he didn't say, "Sshh…" Instead, he stood there and rocked me gently in the semi-light of the room.

  They don't call it the ugly-cry for nothing.

  "You okay?" Joe said in a gentle voice.

  "Yes and no. It feels like my whole life has been falling apart since last Halloween. Ever since I saw that poltergeist in the house off Web Ginn House…nothing's been the same."

  He didn't say anything. He just held me.

  I sniffed. "All of this…for the Eidolons?"

  "They're a pretty good incentive. I mean, think about it: They commanded you."

  Yeah. They had. Bertram, one of the rogue spirits that forced my mother's soul from her body, had used the Eidolons to order me to attack Rhonda and kill her. I'd killed her uncle instead. "So the Seraphim wants to use them to control Dags."

  "Or Rhonda," Joe said. "Think about it. Rhonda knows how to access that book, and even if she is being overshadowed by a Dominion, I doubt she'd consciously or unconsciously do anything to hurt the guy. The Seraphim might think it has to have the Eidolon to force her."

  I hadn't thought of that. Didn't want to consider Rhonda was a victim in all of this. As a victim, she'd deserve sympathy. And I just didn't have any for her.

  "Where are the Eidolons?" I really wasn't sure where they were. I'd seen all of them.

  "You have one. The Summoning Eidolon."

  Ah, yes: The blue necklace my father had left for me on the night he disappeared from my life. My mother had kept it from me, and then used it to cast the spell to seal my Irin abilities from me. The thought of that brought up her admission for asking a guy to rape me and kill my boyfriend, so I bristled and moved on. "I do have it. But it's put away in a safe place."

  "You don't need it?"

  "No. That piece of jewelry took my power away from me not long ago. Why in the hell would I want anything to do with it now?" I pushed back from him, but didn't let go as I looked up into his face. He didn't let go, either. "Seriously?"