Tales Of The Abysmal Plane (Zoë Martinique Short Stories) (The Zoë Martinique Investigation Series)

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Tales Of The Abysmal Plane (Zoë Martinique Short Stories) (The Zoë Martinique Investigation Series) Page 13

by Phaedra Weldon


  Dags cocked his head sideways. "And?"

  "Wait, wait, wait," Rhonda nodded at me. "Zoë can sense Symbionts, right? Or you get that metallic thing you talked about before. But you did sense it with Bonville—and Maureen's journal said he got the Symbiont before he demanded more."

  I scribbled a bit more. BUT NOT THERE.

  Dags' eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "Maybe you sensed just like, the residual? So—where did the Symbiont go if it's not inside of Bonville?"

  I held out my hands—that wasn't why I asked—but it sure as hell was a pertinent question. And it threw everyone off the real reason why I asked. Uh…so it did.

  I rescribbled on the board and held it up. SO CAN SYMB EAT SF?

  Rhonda shrugged. So did Dags. Mom answered. "Symbionts consume the essence of the living. Some like the Archer consume it all at once, gaining a lot of strength—so much that he didn't need a body. But Rollins' Symbiont had fed off his soul for years, improving his health. Which is the power that Hirokumi wanted."

  "So does a Shadow Folk have a soul?" Rhonda asked.

  "Well—I think the part that remains is—was—the soul once the body dissolves. Being trapped like that might just deform the soul, twisting it into something ugly."

  Gross.

  "Well, I say we call it a night," Mom said as she stood. The wicker chair creaked beneath her. "Tomorrow night's the full moon—and the store's gonna have a sale on white candles and Frankincense, so I need sleep." She pointed to Dags. "You need to sleep here. Rhonda, are you staying?"

  The look of dreamy in her eyes made me physically want to puke. But then, how often had she put up with that look on me when I thought about Daniel?

  Ah poop.

  She nodded. "I can make him a nice bed on the couch."

  I waved at them to get their attention even as I stood up. I made the motion of me getting in a car and going home. I pointed to Mom and made the turn-the-key motion to say I needed to borrow her car.

  "You sure you wanna go home?"

  I nodded. My condo was warded, and I'd been missing from it for a while. I needed to get back there and do a little living in it. I also needed some space to think and muse over what TC said, as well as think of a way I could totally screw him up.

  But, Elizabeth the Volvo didn't go home—it drove to the hospital instead. Seeing as it was after one in the morning—the nurses no matter who they are—weren't going to let me in on the floor to see Daniel. So I found a great parking spot, let the seat back, and slipped out of my body.

  As I walked/jogged the parking garage, the elevator, the walkway to the hospital, in the atrium where I'd seen Mr. Spooky, and then up to Daniel's room, I really wished Wraiths could teleport. That would save sooooo much time.

  The hall was quiet, as most of the patients were safely drugged in their beds. I tiptoed past the nurse's station to Daniel's room and sieved through the door. Ew. Metal.

  Daniel was as peaceful as ever, though the room was bland. They wouldn't allow him any sort of flowers or decoration in CCU. But that was okay. I just loved seeing him.

  And then I heard a wretched noise.

  It was a snore.

  Captain Ken Cooper was sound asleep in the fold-out seat, his shoes and clothes still on, his head thrown back, and his trench coat over him like a blanket. His mouth was open, and I was amazed at how much like a child he was.

  I also was touched that he was still here, in the room with Daniel. Awwww.

  I went to my baby, but not too close. I learned close proximity to a Wraith in a hospital room could be bad ju-ju. But I looked at the monitors that were starting to get a little snowy and tried to check his vitals.

  The door opened then, and two nurses came in.

  "Wha—" Cooper said as he came awake. "Freeze…"

  It wasn't Miss Tiarra tonight, but an Indian woman with a very stern expression. "You're not supposed to be here."

  Cooper wiped at his face and glared at her. "I'm a cop—so sue me." He stretched as the two women started working on the machines. One of them actually smacked the side of it. "What time is it? And what the hell are you two doing?"

  The larger woman shook her head. "It's way past visiting hours, detective. And this machine's acting crazy. Getting all fuzzy in here—and if you see it out there at the station, it's blank. Like this poor guy's gone all flatline."

  I knew in an instant that was my fault. Spirits, Ghosts, astral beings like me—they all cause issues with electronic gizmos. So my being here out of body was a bad idea. But I was glad I'd come—and seeing Cooper stay here way past his duty was a nice touch.

  "Really? You sure his bubble-headed girlfriend isn't around? She has a knack for screwing things up."

  Or maybe not.

  I shot him a bird and moved around him, not wanting any part of what he was thinking, which of course happens if I walk through someone.

  Once out in the hallway, I saw him.

  Standing by the nurse's station—a metal clipboard in his hand.

  Bonville.

  -10-

  He hadn't seen me yet—and though I was Wraith, I was certain he would see me unless I moved. But I was too curious as to whose chart he was looking at.

  The presence behind me was startling, but not unexpected. "It's your lover's chart—" TC said on the wind.

  Lover's. Hah. That term indicated there was sex involved between the two parties. I could only deduct that the Archer had no idea Daniel and I hadn't—

  "Oh?"

  Well, shit.

  "Are your memories of our time together returning?"

  Shut. The hell. Up.

  Great. I could hear that fucker's laughter all over the hospital. I could also see my presence was garnering unwanted attention. Hospitals house—well—souls. Spirits. Ghosts. Those what don't realize they iz dead. And those souls were starting to peak out of all sorts of places. Some were in color, some in pastels, and lots were in black and white, much like Maddox's son. There were always the wispy things I saw while Wraith—those pieces of Abysmal-Ethereal-Astral whatsis that looked like the black smoke after blowing out a candle. I had no idea what they were, but they were always around on the edges of things.

  Bonville looked up and narrowed his eyes in our direction. Can he see us?

  "No, but he knows something's here. And in a second he'll—"

  A cell phone rang. I recognized the theme as a well-known tune by 3 Doors Down. Bonville reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled his phone out. I felt TC's hand on my shoulder, and I batted it away. No touchy!

  "Yes—that's excellent news—no, I don't want a lot of them around. I don't trust them—especially since I can't tell them apart anymore. Cleanse the area and proceed. I want him brought directly into the chamber—no, I'm not crazy. I can use his power to destroy anything it sends after me. I'll be right there—just get him away from that witch!" There was actual spittle on his chin before he slammed the phone closed, turned, and marched to the elevators.

  Witch? Was he talking about Dags away from Mom? I mean, 'cause on occasion, I've called her a few choice names myself.

  "She's not the only one," the Archer said, and he materialized to my right. He looked even more washed out in the bright fluorescent hospital light. Not so—scary.

  Should I follow him?

  "No," he turned to me. His ink-black shades were back on. "You won't be able to. You'll need to get to him another way."

  I burned past the Archer to the emergency exit and took the stairs as fast as I could. It was more time-consuming than the elevator, but at least this way I was getting my astral workout. Once on the landing, I went through the door (yow, metal again!) and made my way back to the parking lot, avoiding any contact with the multitude of Ghosts that crowded into my way.

  TC was at my car when I arrived. I stopped and frowned. How did he—

  "I don't have to run. Or take a bus, or a train, or a plane—"

  Bastard.

  I sieved into the car
and easily back into my body. I righted the seat, putting me back in front of the steering wheel and would have given a full scream when I noticed TC in the passenger's seat beside me. Stop doing that!

  "Drive."

  Asswipe.

  "Dumbass."

  Ah! Get out of my car!

  "You need me. Without me, the Betrayer will succeed in—"

  Hey.

  He paused. "Yes?"

  Does the Betrayer have a Symbiont?

  The Archer abruptly vanished out of my car. Was it something I said? No matter—if I still had my voice, I would be calling Mom real fast to warn them that I thought Bonville's henchmen—be they physical peoples or Shadow Peoples—were on their way, if not already there.

  I drove like a bat out of the oven getting back to Mom's. All was dark from the outside—and it looked real quiet, too. It was close to two-thirty spook time by Elizabeth's digital. I pulled up with the lights off and then cut the engine. I could either go in physical and, of course, if I got jumped, there was no way for me to warn anybody verbally.

  Or go in Wraith where I seemed to have the advantage.

  Bing, bing, bing. Wraith!

  I leaned the chair back again and locked the doors before sieving out—I also checked my watch—or rather my wrist, since I have no idea where my watch was. I could only guess I had about three and a half hours available to me. Give or take what I'd used in the hospital. I hadn't rested enough to completely restart the clock. What did worry me was the cold. It was already nearing thirty degrees, and I couldn't leave the heater running. Forget a blanket—there wasn't one in the car. All I had was my peacoat.

  Nothing felt oogie as I moved up to the front porch. There were the usual creepies outside the house, little buggers Mom's wards wouldn't let in—so I was certain the ward itself was still intact. I moved through the door (yay wood!) and sensed someone to my left through the beaded curtain. I moved through it and saw that someone was sound asleep on the couch. That had to be Dags. That was good.

  Two more checks upstairs showed that Mom and Rhonda were asleep, too.

  So—what had Bonville been talking about?

  "Zoë?"

  Yikes! I jumped and spun, turning to see Steve standing in the kitchen. Oh god, don't do that.

  "Why are you here—" he pointed to me. "Like that? Where is your body?"

  In the car. I told him the story as briefly as I could think it, and he nodded.

  "There was a bit of a fracas earlier at the ward's edges—they held so I didn't wake Nona or Rhonda. You think Bonville will come here?"

  I shrugged and moved into the Botanica— I wanted to find those journals and reread a few parts. Because something wasn't gelling for me.

  As I passed the couch, every door and window in the house blew open. I crouched low as Steve yelled out. Dags sat up abruptly—his hands out, palms up—and the circles on his palms were lit up like fluorescent lamps in the dark.

  He started to fade as well, just as he had in the atrium.

  No fair! He was in the house!

  The sound of thunder echoed above me until I realized it was footsteps. Rhonda burst out of the kitchen area, a stick in her hands. Mom was right behind her.

  "What happened?" Rhonda screamed out. Wind like a nor'easter gale whipped everything in the house up in a frenzy. "What's going on?"

  "They broke through," screamed Mom. Her eyes found me, and then they widened to the size of oranges. "Zoë, behind you!"

  But I already knew he was there. I knew he'd been waiting on this. I grabbed Dags' wrist as TC grabbed me, and together all three of us vanished from the house on Euclid in Little Five Points.

  No one had to tell me we were in the Abysmal Plane. I could feel it all around me. And what frightened me more was that I—well—I enjoyed how it felt. Warm and peaceful, and I could feel strength flooding every fiber of my being.

  But was it only because I was Wraith?

  I heard Dags screaming beside me, and I pulled him to me, becoming as solid as I could to protect him from whatever it was that destroyed physical bodies. If we didn't find a way out of here quick, Dags wouldn't survive, and I was terrified he, too, would become a Shadow.

  I opened my eyes to see a daisy-covered plain—hills and valleys out of a movie were sprawled on either side of me. I could see a small village to my left and another to my right. White smoke billowed from a chimney or two in both. Flowers sprouted up beside where I knelt with the writhing man in my arms.

  Mental Note: reread Big Book of Everything—notate in text that description of Abysmal is WRONG!

  I looked down at him, and he was looking up at me with pain-filled eyes.

  "Z-zoë?" he was shaking. It felt like the sort of shake I always got when I had a fever—the kind I couldn't stop, the kind that chattered my teeth. His dark eyes were turning white. Dead white. "You—you l-look different."

  "Just stay with me," I said.

  He smiled. "I—I heard you—you sp-spoke."

  I wasn't able to answer him, as we were abruptly somewhere else. It was quiet, and the smell of fresh flowers was replaced by that of spicy incense and the metallic tang of a Symbiont. I heard voices too, and whispers all around us. The voices sounded a bit—surprised.

  "What is it?"

  "I don't know—could it be something from the otherworld?"

  "It is a demon! We should contain it!"

  "It is contained, you idiot," came a voice with much more authority than the whispers. "We've built a protective circle around it."

  Oh? I opened my eyes and looked up. Dags and I were surrounded by a circle of people in black robes (oh for crying out loud), their hoods pulled forward so I couldn't really see much of their faces except their noses and mouths, and they were all wearing Phantom of the Opera masks. Just behind them, I could make out either rafters or maybe support beams for a ceiling. Considering it felt like we were underground—I was going for basement.

  I looked down at Dags. He was unconscious, and I could sense his soul teetering on the edge of life. I don't know how I knew it—but that brush with the Abysmal (and it had flowers!) had somehow tainted or poisoned his body—I didn't know which. I did know it hadn't been a good thing for him to go through—not in a physical body. And no matter what happened, I was not going to allow anyone to turn him into a Shadow.

  So there. That was my righteous Southern woman declaration for the month, ala Julia Sugarbaker (bless her heart and rest her soul).

  That's when I spotted Bonville. He was in a black robe, but he wasn't masked. His robe was all silky and smooth, while the others looked like dime store knock offs. I laid Dags down on the ground, also taking note of the huge-ass pentagram beneath us on a wood floor, and stood up.

  Oddly enough, I felt—pretty good.

  Bonville held up his right hand. "I command you, oh demon, to be cast out of this circle so that we may continue our ritual."

  I don't know what he expected to happen—but it didn't. The others looked a little flummoxed as well. And though I sensed power behind the casting—I sensed it was missing something.

  Ah! The book!

  He didn't have his big book anymore, 'cause Mom and Rhonda did.

  Abruptly, the Archer appeared in front me, between me and Bonville. And I wasn't the only one who could see him. Everyone could. In the basement like this, under all the candlelight, he looked pretty impressive.

  "She's wearing bunny slippers," someone muttered.

  Yes I am—wanna make something of it?

  Mental Note: bunny slippers are cool.

  I also noticed TC had the book and the documents in his hands. Now how did he get hold of those?

  He held the documents up, and Bonville looked a little bit more than frightened. "You recognize these, Allard? The documents you made all of these people sign?"

  All of these people—I looked at the group. The Cruorem. They were all looking at each other.

  Allard Bonville nodded. "I do. They gave me their loyalt
y—"

  "No, Allard," TC's voice boomed. "You sold their souls so that you could become immortal."

  Well that was a lowering of the boom. I could feel a huge mix of anger, confusion, disbelief, and fear running rampant around the room. Oh, Mr. Bonville was in trouble now. Neener, neener.

  "No—what are you talking about? My wife—"

  "And what happened to those souls you were tired of?" TC looked like he was having a good time here—but I was waiting for all these Shadow Folk to come like he told me they would. "You pushed them physically into the Abysmal Plane, making them unpalatable for your lord and master."

  I frowned. Huh?

  Bonville had his hands out. "But I was only doing what she told me to do. Please, don't take the promise from me now—I'll die."

  TC smiled. And I didn't like that smile.

  "Then are you finally willing to offer her to me?"

  Huh? Who?

  Bonville looked terrified. "She'll kill me—I can't do that. She'll kill me!"

  She? Who was she?

  Why did I have the feeling I'd been lied to—again? Damn TC!

  The book in TC's hand abruptly took flight and floated to Bonville. It opened, and the pages flipped until it remained still and hovered before his face. "Bring her to me."

  "No—" Bonville shook his head. "I only wanted to summon her to find this," he nodded to the book floating in front of him. "You don't need her—"

  "Bring. Her. To. Me."

  The command in that voice made my head spin.

  Bonville looked at T.C. "But the Shadows…he'll send the Shadows..."

  "Do it."

  What the fucking hell was going on—

  And abruptly the whole room's temperature dropped. Bonville was reciting something from the book. There was a swirl inside the circle, and every one of the people there were still in their places. I could tell from their expressions—what I could see—they were powerless to move.

  Shadows appeared everywhere in the circle. Short, then, tall—but none over three feet in height. Some slithered, and some crawled, they walked and they flew! And they flew right at me, as well as TC.

 

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