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

by Phaedra Weldon

  I was so out of there. I ran to the door, which closed before I could run through. I yanked on the knob a few more times, but it wasn't going to budge.

  And the bears were snoring louder!

  I moved so fast past that fireplace and back into the main store, I was surprised I didn't leave my body on the floor. My heart thundered inside of my chest as my imagination replayed images of stuffed teddy bears climbing out of the box and marching toward me, surrounding me, and then holding me down while they tried to make me one of their own by stuffing me.

  GAH!

  I paused in front of the window where I'd talked to Ivy. I thought about ducking in there and shutting the doors. Teddy bears were small, and they couldn't reach door handles...unless they stood on top of each other and then turned the knob slowly—

  "Are you all right?"

  I did it. Screamed again. Silent, but deafening, as I whirled around and caught sight of a young man standing by the large windows in the magic room. The only illumination came from that window, the floodlight from the outside streaming in to cast the room in shadows.

  He was young—maybe nineteen? Twenty? His hair was a sandy blond and combed neatly to one side. I couldn't really make out his clothes, but he looked like he was dressed like Ivy—

  You're another Ghost.

  He gave me a half smile. "Yes. And you're..." he frowned. "What exactly are you?"

  Wraith. I took a few hesitant steps toward him and waved aside any questions. Long story. Are you like Ivy? I mean, do you haunt this place?

  "Ivy? Who's Ivy?" He offered me his hand. "My name is Hal Lee."

  I came even closer and was amazed at how solid he was. More solid than I think I'd ever seen Tim or Steve manifest. I doubted my physical hand would actually touch his, so I did something that later creeped my mom out when I told her. I slipped my Wraith hand out of my physical hand and was able to grasp his. Zoë Martinique. I'm not your average...acquaintance.

  His hand was firm...yet cold as stone. Once he let go, I slipped my hand back into my body just like gliding a hand back into a glove to warm it up. Weird. So you don't know Ivy? This wouldn't be that odd, really. I'd learned from Rhonda over the past month that not all Ghosts or Shades were aware of each other. If they existed on different planes or spectrums, then they were totally oblivious to other Ghosts.

  Sometimes even those on the Physical Plane.

  He shook his head slowly. "No. I don't know anybody here. Why were you running?"

  I pointed toward the door. There are possessed bears out there.

  He raised his eyebrows. "Possessed bears? Like in teddy bears?" Hal laughed. "What are you really afraid of?"

  Huh? I stepped closer. I'm not making that up. All those bears started snoring.

  But he just smiled. "Why are you so sad? Why aren't you happy that the light is returning? The God is born again as a babe."

  Light? Babe? Uhm...oh great. Christmas. Jesus's birth. Just my luck to find a religious Ghost. A holy Ghost, but not The Holy Ghost. I put up both my hands and stepped back. Oh no, look. I'm not into all that, okay? I mean, I'm Catholic, don't get me wrong. I believe in God, in some way I guess. But you see...I've seen things that've turned my hair white, and I gestured to the ever-present streak in my hair. And right now, the only thing I can think of is whether my boyfriend is going to live to even see the New Year.

  Hal nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the window. "I don't think that's it."

  I blinked at him. Excuse me?

  He tilted his head to the side. "I think you're afraid—of something else. You're afraid he will wake up."

  I stared at this kid.

  "And he won't want to see you."

  Now I took a step back. No...that's not it. But there was an odd chill running down my back.

  "Isn't it? I don't sense hopelessness in you. You're a Wraith, and that takes a strong soul, one born to carry heavy burdens. And burdens can't be carried unless there is always a hope the burden will be lifted. Strength." He smiled. "What has you upset and sad and seeing things is that you're afraid you've already lost him."

  Oh god...this little kid...he'd hit it right on the nail. The things that always went through my head. When I wasn't listening, when I was alone, when I cried in the shower.

  I really was terrified that Daniel wouldn't see me again, that he'd reject me for causing him so much pain. Ever since he fell from the fire escape, I kept replaying his expression—over and over—in my mind. Had he seen me? As a Wraith? Did he think I'd let go of him? That I'd abandoned him?

  And the truth was...I had let go. To save his soul.

  Hal was beside me then, almost a blinding radiance. "How another feels about you—that reflection of love—you crave and yearn for that acceptance. But what you have to believe in is yourself first. You did your best to protect him, and he will know that. Have faith." He smiled. "Have hope. You are the Ivy that protects the Holly King. You are what can make him stronger. And if he chooses not to be with you," he sighed, "then you keep your strength, and you protect him, and others, from a distance."

  I...I didn't know...what to say.

  "Don't make who you are about someone else." He smiled. "I did that. I ran away here...because I saw the girl I loved with another man. And I'd believed there was nothing left for me. What I couldn't see was a future."

  Wait...hadn't Ivy said this?

  But he was right.

  I suddenly felt very...selfish. Hadn't Daniel been by my side through all the craziness back in November? With TC, and Hirokumi, as well as the Reverend Rollins?

  That was enough, wasn't it? That if he woke, and he remembered me as Wraith, or remembered me letting him go on that fire escape, then I had to face what came next.

  Ha...that was so not me. I was always the one to run in the other direction. Like with the snoring bears. What was there to really run from?

  He stood and straightened up, looking very serious. "Right now you feel there is no hope. That light will not return to your world. Nor love. Nor passion. You're afraid, in a sense, that hope is gone. And when hope is gone, there exists a void where self-blame steps in. The Holly King represents hope, and the Ivy King represents strength."

  I stared at him, and the constant reference to ivy and holly was starting to drive me crazy.

  "Why do you think none of this will work out?"

  I looked at the Ghost. At Hal. Because I've never really known love—that every man whoís ever shown interest in me has vanished. I thought of my dad then, and of Barry Stephens, who died because of a rapist in the park, and I thought of Daniel—

  Abruptly, the light changed in the room, and I realized the illumination was no longer coming from the light outside, but from Hal himself. He'd taken on a golden glow. He no longer had a full body, either—he was disappearing.

  What the—

  "The Yule Log is lit, and hope is returning, Zoë." He reached out to me, and without thinking, I used my physical hand.

  But I didn't touch Hal...there was a flash, and I held in my hand a sprig of holly, gently entwined in a delicate vine of ivy. Of Hal...there was nothing.

  There was a brief spark, a flash of gold, and an overwhelming feeling of warmth.

  And of hope.

  I heard his voice in my ear. "It is easy to slip into despair—it takes little effort and no self worth. But to be a beacon and a symbol of belief, that is where the true hardship rests. Don't ever give up, Wraith. You have a larger part in this world, a destiny yet to come."

  He was gone, and I was on my back, and Rhonda was bending over me. She wasn't wearing her winter coat. Instead, she was in a black robe, open in the front to reveal her jeans and Abney Park T-shirt. "Hey, Zoë? You okay? Is it your sugar? Do I need to get you a drink? Where did you get that?"

  I blinked at her. The overhead light was on, and the feeling of peace and calm was gone, soon replaced by damn-it's-cold-here-on-the-floor. I waved her away and sat up. I tried to sign "s
pooky bears," to her. But I think it came out as something closer to "chafing underpants" because, in my right hand, was the ivy and the holly.

  I stood up, and she was with me. Was it me, or was her skin kinda glowing? I reached into my pockets—and realized my pad was with my coat, which was on the floor somewhere in the music area.

  "You okay?" Rhonda asked, as she followed me out of the room. There was a new smell now, something spicy and kinda Christmasy. Smelled like one of my mom's candles.

  And Daniel's cologne.

  I found my coat and then looked at the now-silent box of bears. Had they really even gone off? Or had this whole night been a dream? I pulled out my pad and scribbled. Took a bit, but Rhonda was patient with me.

  GHOSTS. 2 OF THEM. IVY AND HAL LEE. VERY NICE. BEARS ARE SCARY. DO YOU HAVE A YULE LOG? I WANT TO BURN ONE. CAN WE GO NOW?

  Rhonda's eyes widened as she read, and then she narrowed her eyes up at me. "Ivy and Hal Lee? Hallee? Holly?"

  Hal Lee. Holly.

  Oh. My.

  "Zoë, how did you know about ivy and holly, or the Yule log?" She moved to the fireplace and pointed. "See the ivy and holly there with the pine? Holly and ivy are the two strongest trees in the winter, and their leaves and branches were brought inside to adorn the house as a symbol of bringing in strength and hope to get through the tough times."

  I was watching her as she talked, and I got what she said, but I also noticed something in her expression. She was trying hard not to smile. I pointed to her and made a circular motion, meaning, "What up with your face?"

  We were close enough for her to understand the gesture. "I heard from Dags! He texted me, finally. He's fine, but he's spending a little time dealing with his new...situation."

  Situation? What kind of situation was that?

  She waved at me. "I know—I figured I'd call him later about that. But he's fine. And he's alive. I have my Yule wish I guess. Look, let's pick something out for Nona and get back to the hospital. Candace and the others will be upstairs in a second."

  I agreed. But I couldn't seem to leave the bears alone. I leaned in close to the nearest one and tentatively poked at it. When it didn't snap my finger off in one bite, I picked it up and squeezed it. No sound. I squeezed it several times. Not a peep.

  Had they really snored earlier?

  I left a twenty on the counter for the bear and clutched the ivy and holly in my hand all the way back to the hospital. Rhonda seemed to sense I wasn't in a signing, scribbling mood so we said nothing.

  Once off the elevator, I nearly ran to Daniel's room. There were doctors standing outside of it and two nurses. Captain Cooper, Daniel's boss, was there, and so was Holmes.

  I stopped in my tracks, but Mom turned and saw me. She waved me closer and then saw the ivy and holly in my hand. I gave it to her and tears glistened in her eyes. "How did you know?"

  I shrugged. I didn't know anything at that point. I was terrified that something had happened.

  She pointed to the bear. "Is that for Daniel?"

  I nodded.

  And she was holding me then, her arms around me and her soft voice in my ear. "He's asking for you, Zoë. He's asking...for you."

  Beyond The Door

  This novella is a bridge piece between Revenant and Geist.

  Hi.

  It's me.

  Uhm…I'm not sure if anyone's listening or not. I just felt I needed to talk. I mean…I can talk. In this bubble. Big dark bubble.

  Well it's not really dark. I can see things. I can see them. Looking back at me at times. They pretty much leave me alone…'cause I can't do much. But I know they're there. I used to look back at them, thinking I'd see my dad. But no. He's not there.

  Oh…I just realized you might not know who I am.

  I'm Zoë Martinique. Or I was. I think I still am. It's…it's been a while since I actually used that name. I'm a Wraith, or was…might still be. Those on the other side tell me that after a while, I'll grow strong if I surrender myself to them and seal the borders. I honestly think they're full of shit.

  I know when someone's lying. And let's face it—I'm in the Abysmal Plane. Duh? They're all lying. I know this because they told me my friends were dead.

  They said…Dags…was dead.

  And Joe.

  …and Daniel.

  But they're not. I can still hear them. Feel them.

  They all changed. Just like me

  Dags is a Grimoire…my best friend shoved a big freak'n magic book into his chest to save his life a while back. Fused it to him. So now he's a book…or he's part of a book. I think.

  Joe…well Joe's just Joe. He's a cop. And a witch. A lot like Rhonda. He just doesn't realize his magic's as natural as they come. Instinctual. Boy couldn't build a magic circle if he copied it out of a book—but he could sling a spell—if he tried.

  And there's TC. Or Azrael. That's his real name—the last of the First Borns. The children of the first Phantasm. He slept for a long time, under the power of the second Phantasm, and then he woke when he touched me, and a whole shitload of trouble came out of that.

  TC's a creature of shadow and mayhem, but he has a soul. Like nothing else in the Abysmal essence.

  And Daniel…

  My dearest Daniel changed the most. He's what you'd call…a vampire now. They call themselves Revenants. A First Born, Inanna, Azrael's sister, bonded her essence to his and saved his mind and his body. And now he's immortal, in a sense. He's a part of something greater.

  They're all still there. They didn't die.

  Mom. Rhonda. And even Jemmy.

  Jason's around, but I don't see him enough.

  Oh…see. Right, right.

  I can see. Them. In dreams when I sleep. But sometimes the sleeping and the waking get confused. I know they're trying hard to find a way to get to me, but come on. It's been how long since my father betrayed me and offered me—his only child—as the Phantasm's replacement?

  It's been two months. Or has it been three?

  Four?

  What am I talking about? Keep up. I'm the Big Bad now.

  The third Phantasm of the Abysmal Plane—is me.

  Zoë.

  What's it like to be Queen? Not so great. It's probably like getting all excited to marry the King of England and then find out you have a big allowance, but you can't actually make any changes. You can only dress nice, wave, show up at parties, and never talk to the press.

  It sucks royal fucking ass.

  I want out. More than I want anything else. But I can't get out. There's no door. There are times when I'm drifting, and I can feel them. Feel Joe, and TC, Daniel, and Rhonda, and Dags.

  My dear Dags…

  And I can sometimes see them, and hear them, and look at the world I belong to with their eyes.

  Because I don't dare actually take a look at where I am, or what I look like.

  I'm too freak'n scared to.

  But I'm here…waiting. With no human voice but my own.

  I wanted my daddy to love me.

  He betrayed me.

  I want my life back.

  I want to go home.

  I want my mom.

  To hold me.

  Please…

  Someone…

  Three months After Zoë's disappearance...

  Joe.

  DETECTIVE Joe Halloran leaned slowly to his right, moving his line of sight from behind the corner of a brick building to the group of men standing outside the Buckhead Diner. The diner itself had a reflective surface and blew back any light into binoculars and gunsites. It was just after 10:00 p.m. on a Wednesday, and he knew this wasn't a group of churchgoers settling in for after-worship snacks.

  No, the two men on the right in the expensive black suits and severe haircuts were locals, part of a gang of white-collar thieves. The two on the left, both Asian in light-colored suits, were part of a newer gang operating out of Chamblee, a suburb of North Atlanta, known for its large Asian population. Separately, the set of pairs h
adn't accomplished much except the occasional bullying for money.

  But together, these two were responsible for a little girl's death near Chamblee Park. And Joe really hated it when kids were caught in the crossfire. He hated the perps more for actually firing a gun around children.

  People like that? Waste of skin. No use for them.

  Yeah, he could in theory sick things on them—unspeakable things. He'd found that little talent useful in the past three months. But he liked going after them himself. Liked the collar. Liked watching them squirm.

  His partner, Mastiff, stood on the other side of the street behind an opposing building. They wore small ear devices allowing them to communicate in whispers.

  "Joe?"

  "Yeah?"

  "It's been forty minutes," Mastiff said. "They're just…talking."

  "They'll do it. I swear."

  "How do you know that?"

  How did he know? Joe pursed his lips. Because I've got a vampire and a First Born Symbiont in my pocket. No. That just didn't seem like it would go down too good. Yeah, Mastiff had been exposed to the weirdness that Joe's life had become after meeting Zoë, but Joe still wasn't sure he wanted to throw the guy into the deep end.

  Not yet anyway.

  "It might not come from them," he said softly, never taking his eyes from the foursome. "Might come from somewhere else. Either way…just be prepared."

  A black Cadillac turned the corner down the street in front of Joe. It started up the road, the passenger's side window rolling down as it slowed when it passed the four of them.

  This is it!

  Abruptly, a piece of parchment paper—scuffed, torn, and crumpled—appeared in front of his face, and a familiar deep voice followed. "I got it! Look at that—I told you I knew where they went. Fuckers were gonna burn it—but I stopped them. Can I get a 'you are the fucking greatest'?"

  "Halloran!" came Mastiff's voice through the earpiece, just as gunshots fired in front of them.