I stared at him, not believing what I was hearing. Either Joe didn’t know what had happened with Rhonda—ergo why he was still fraternizing with the enemy—or Rhonda had fed him a bunch of lies. Didn’t he understand she had betrayed me?
“What?” Joe said.
“Careful,” Dags said. “Your head is gonna explode if she keeps staring at you like that.”
Joe put his fingers to his lips as if biting his nails and shot a fake-pleading look at Dags. “Can she really do that? Save me, Dags!”
“Fuck you” was about all I could muster, with the bird for emphasis.
“You know, it’s kinda sexy when you say it with that voice of yours.” Joe looked so damned smug I could have kicked his ass. I considered my situation. Later. I’ll kick his ass later.
“You know what Rhonda did, right?” I asked.
“Yes. She was assigned by her uncle, the head of the Society of Ishmael, to infiltrate the life of one Zoë Martinique for the purposes of determining if the daughter of Adiran Martinique could possibly pose a threat to mankind once it was known her powers of OOB had developed.” He smiled. “Did I get it right?”
I blinked at him. “And you’re okay with that? Joe—she lied to me. She pretended to be my friend. I told her everything, shared every fear and booyah moment I’ve had since I learned I could do this shit.”
He gave me a sideways grin. “Booyah moment?”
“She betrayed me, and you’re defending her?”
He shrugged and managed to look apologetic. “Look—I won’t say what she did was right. But I’m not going to judge her solely on what her attitude was five years ago compared to how she feels now. She discovered that what you were, or what you were becoming, was much more than her uncle or anyone involved in the original experiments could have dreamed of. And she also defended you on many occasions—claimed that your strongest asset wasn’t your power, but the moral conscience that guided it.”
Dags and I both were staring at him after that speech.
“Whoa,” Dags said. “That was deep, dude.”
What irked me about what he said—well, besides the fact he said it—was that it made me feel a little bit bad about the way I’d treated Rhonda.
A little bit. I think a part of me knew that—but the smaller part of me—that was the part that wanted to be angry at someone. Anyone. And Rhonda was it.
I cleared my throat. “You spoke to her—to learn this?”
“Yeah—I tried reaching her about two days after her uncle’s funeral, and she spilled it all to me—terrified you would never trust her again. I just told her to man-up, strap on her big-girl panties, and move on.”
I couldn’t help the smile on my face when I digested that comment. “You really said that aloud to her?”
“Yep.” And he reached up and pulled his bangs from his forehead to reveal a small scar. “Got the mark to prove it.”
I gaped at the wound. “Did she really—”
He grinned.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“So will you call her?” Joe said.
“No.”
“Well, that’s just being stupid, Zoë.”
“Joe,” Dags said, “once Rhonda was certain she’d made up her mind that Zoë wasn’t a threat, and she felt close to her, she should have confided in both Nona and in Zoë as to who she was and why she was there. I can’t say I blame Zoë for being angry.”
Joe pointed at him. “You stay out of this.”
I took offense at that and sat forward. “No, you leave Dags alone. He was with us longer than you were. And he’s been through a lot because of it.”
“Well, la-de-fucking-dah,” Joe said as he put his hands on his knees. “Zoë, I don’t pretend to approve of what Rhonda did—in the beginning. And yeah, she should have been up-front with you once her loyalties turned from what the Society wanted to what she wanted. She and her uncle. But whether you like it or not, she’s the only one, beside your mother, who knows you best and might be able to find out what’s happened to your power. It might be some astral flu or something.” He paused. “There are real threats out there—this Horror thing is just the tip of the iceberg. Because whether you realize this or not—Rodriguez isn’t gone, nor is he that easy to derail on something. He seriously thinks you belong in a lab and under his care. We can protect you—”
Dags was looking at me as he said, “Joe—”
“Just shut up, Dags. Zoë has got to realize she’s in real danger here. And her being just a regular girl again is dangerous for all of us. She needs to be Wraith. We need to find out what a Horror is because it’s killing people. And there’s nothing she can do if she can’t even OOB. It’s stupid pride that she’s holding this grudge against Rhonda. Rhonda’s been nothing but supportive of Zoë through everything, and this irresponsible, childish—”
I was on my feet. “Get. Out.”
He blinked. “Hello?”
“I said get out. Run, go tell Rhonda—” It was when he said, “We can protect you.” It was all I needed to hear, then I knew it. I wasn’t the smartest person—good grief, I was outright stupid most of the time—but there were moments of clarity. And I had one just then. I should have seen it earlier. The way he rarely spoke about Rhonda—how he already knew everything that had happened to me. I thought it was Dags who had filled him in.
No. It was much more sinister for me. Joe was still working alongside Rhonda. They were still in contact. Even now she was still meddling in my life. “How do I know what’s happened to me isn’t your fault somehow? Or hers? How do I know she didn’t slip something in one of those hot chocolates? That she isn’t still working for Rodriguez and this is her way of making me easier to overpower?”
Joe looked . . . hurt. Really hurt. And for the first time since I’d met him in that morgue a lifetime ago, there weren’t any smug or sardonic lines on his face. There was only a wide-eyed disbelief there.
He stood and retrieved his coat from the edge of the couch. After slipping it on, he looked at Dags. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it with this one.” And then he looked at me. “Closing yourself off isn’t going to bring Nona back, nor is it going to discover what’s wrong with you.” He left the room without a look back.
“Zoë—”
I was trembling. “Maybe you should leave, Dags,” I heard myself saying. I felt—burned. Scorched. All the way to the middle of my body. I knew on some level I was in the middle of them all. Dags and Daniel were friends who met at Fadó’s, and I knew Joe and Dags’s friendship had grown because of me.
But right now I didn’t want anybody around.
Why?
Because I wanted a good old-fashioned cry. I wanted to boohoo big-time into my pillow and not care who heard me. I was scared out of my fucking mind. There was a nutcase out there who wanted to experiment on me, a ghost-hunter dude who was blaming me for his girlfriend’s death, something was killing people, and I didn’t even know who the other victims were or if they were related to me in some weird way like Boo was, and my mom wasn’t here.
I couldn’t even see or speak to Tim or Steve.
Dags nodded. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an iPhone and set it on the coffee table. “Here—I added it to my plan, so don’t call Tokyo—okay?”
He waited a few seconds before moving to the arch between the two shops, then stopped. “I put Daniel’s new number in it as well. He gave it to me the other day. It might not hurt to call him.”
I cleared my throat, but my eyes were already burning, and a tear escaped the lower lid of my left eye. “He wouldn’t come.”
“I would.” Dags moved to the front door, opened it, and did exactly what I’d asked him to do.
13
The white box
JEMMY was still in the botanica when I broke down. She took me in her arms and guided me to the stairs as I bawled, then pushed me to go up and wash my face. I needed sleep. I wasn’t a creature from a different plane anymore. I was
just plain old me, and I needed rest.
She brought up tea after I’d climbed into bed, and the cry felt good—really—though I fell asleep after a few sips of the chamomile. Jemmy had even pulled out my kit and checked my sugar—which was low—and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. A small part of me wondered about that—my sugar—since we’d always believed it was a physical side effect of me going OOB.
Or Wraith.
TC was unnaturally quiet when I finally put my head on the pillow. I thought about asking him what he thought, then decided I really didn’t want to know. I was supposed to hate him. Despise him. Fight him. Destroy him.
Yeah. Right.
I was looking at that box again. It had several things scribbled on the side, but I couldn’t make them out, not in the light of the basement. Bobby was so insistent that I just go take a look. But I was more scared of what Mom would do to me if I did.
“I don’t believe you,” I finally said, and faced him. “I need to get back upstairs and do that paper.”
But when I turned away, Bobby showed up in front of me again, his hands on his hips. “Have I ever lied to you?”
I smirked at him and crossed my hands over my chest. I wondered idly if I’d ever really get breasts. Carlene and JoAnne had them, and they were three whole months younger than me! “Yes.”
“Well, never mind that. I’m not lying about this. You’ve got to look in that box.”
“Why?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it before he lifted his small shoulders. “Just so’s you know I’m not lying. I really saw stuff in there from your dad.”
I knew it was wrong—most of what I did was wrong these days—always making Mom mad. But Bobby was a friend, and he kept me company on those long nights while Mom worked. “Okay—I’ll look.”
The stepladder was still there where I thought Mom had used it before. I went up and looked at the box. The side facing me had a hole in it—a handle created out of a punched-through side. What if I reached out and something came out of that hole?
“Chicken,” Bobby said.
“Shut—up!” I hissed. With a deep breath, I reached up to the box—
Something did come out of that hole—it was a human hand—only the skin was peeled back and it was all bloody and I screamed and felt myself falling and Bobby was calling my name—
OH god, I hate nightmares.
Tiny creatures like little evil yard gnomes carved out a home in my brain as I sat up. Crying before sleep—not always a good thing for me. In the shower, I let the water run over my face and just stood there for a long time. The radio reported slightly cloudy skies and a good chance for showers. I dried off, donned my fuzzy robe, and shuffled to the mirror.
After staring at my remarkably unspecial face I cleared my throat. “Are you still there?”
I felt a stirring inside of my chest. It was like a flutter of nervousness.
Yeah, I’m still here.
“Please come out so I can see you.”
I’m afraid I can’t do that anymore. If I leave your body, you won’t see me or hear me unless I overshadow someone else.
I blinked. “What?”
You’ve digressed back to life in the physical plane in its simplest form. I can’t explain it, but I know if I leave you—
I put my hands on the sink’s edge and took a deep breath. “What exactly does that mean? What am I going to do?”
You cannot defeat a Horror like this.
I splashed water on my face. I wanted to throw up. “So the Phantasm has won?”
No one else can command a Horror, Zoë.
“Does he make them—like he made you?”
There was a pause. No. They’re mistakes—but the kind of mistakes he takes advantage of. Horrors usually form with the right conditions—though I’m not sure what those are. I think he hoped when he created me I’d become one. When I didn’t, I was sure he was very disappointed.
I grabbed a brush. I didn’t know what to do. I was completely clueless.
“You need to get Nona back here,” Jemmy said from the doorway to the bathroom. I’d forgotten I’d opened it to let the hot steam out when I wiped the mirror.
“I don’t know how to get Nona back.” I couldn’t OOB, there was no way I could step into the Abysmal like this. Not even Dags knew what to do.
I thought of my dream . . . of the box in the basement in our old house. Was it really a dream? “Jemmy . . . you ever seen a white box in the basement?”
“White box?” She nodded slowly. “Yeah. There are several white boxes. But now your mom went through them when she moved into this house—did a bit of cleaning. You looking for something in particular?”
Yes . . . and no. Maybe. From all of this I’d learned I was born Irin—a Watcher. I realized my dad had technically died before I was conceived. And yet he’d continued a life with my mom after the lab fire and had raised me. And as an Irin—what did that mean for me? Now that I couldn’t Wraith—had I lost that part of myself as well?
Oh, damnit! I threw the brush across the bathroom. It bounced on the floor and skirted to a stop by the shower. “I don’t know what to do!”
“Well, I’m no expert here,” Jemmy said. “But it’s Wednesday morning. Bakery’s delivering in about ten minutes, and I need some help getting the shop ready to open. I suggest you get dressed and come help me. Maybe the answer will present itself.”
It was busywork, and I knew it. But I helped like she asked. After throwing my hair into a braid and putting on a long-sleeved tee shirt, jeans, and my SpongeBob slippers, I unpacked cakes and cookies, pies and teas. I boiled water for the carafe for Tea of the Day, and cleaned up in the botanica and rearranged two of the shelves where the books had been messed up.
I snacked on tea and lemon spice cake, a poppy-seed muffin and a tall glass of water. The customers were regulars—a few of them I knew as Rhonda’s friends. They were friendly, polite, and sat out on the porch in the warmer weather or bought stuff from the botanica. A part of me wasn’t sure they weren’t there to spy on me.
But at the moment, I didn’t care. I wanted a normal day. And then I was going to see my mom again.
And it was normal—until Captain Kenneth Cooper walked in.
He nodded at me as he sauntered up, putting his hands palms down on the refrigerator case. “Morning, Zoë.”
I nodded to him. “Hi.”
“You seen Daniel?”
I shook my head. “I saw Joe last night. He left here about ten or so. I haven’t seen Daniel since yesterday morning.”
He nodded and ordered a piece of the spice cake, then a chai tea to go. “Zoë, we’ve put out an APB on Randall Kemp. Apparently one of his SPRITE friends told Halloran he was making threats against you—so I’d like for you to be careful. I’ll get Mastiff over here as soon as possible to keep an eye on you.”
Mastiff had been the officer to “keep an eye on” me before, when I snuck off in November and got kidnapped by Reverend Rollins. I wasn’t sure he was the bomb that Cooper thought he was. I’d heard he recently made detective, so babysitting me seemed sort of a shit job. “I’ll be going to Miller Oaks this afternoon.”
“Is Dags going with you?”
I shook my head. “No, he left last night too.”
“Zoë”—he leaned in close after a quick conspiratorial look around—“I looked him up—yesterday. You know he’s like Halloran, right?”
“Like Halloran in that he believes in ghosts and alien abduction?”
Cooper’s expression softened into a smirk. “So you already knew?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know that he also goes by the name McKinty?”
“That’s his bartending name,” I said. “It’s his mother’s name.”
“Okay.” He straightened up. “As long as you trust him. I don’t.”
I packed up the cake, poured the steaming water from the kettle into an insulated cup, and dropped a chai tea bag in it bef
ore putting on the lid. “Is that because you can’t find anything else on him?”
Cooper took the cup and nodded. “Yes. If you see Daniel, tell him he’s fired.”
He started to leave, but I reached across the counter and grabbed his coat. He turned with raised eyebrows. “Captain—has he not reported in or something?”
“Nope. Not since Monday. This mystery case needs manpower. Joe’s already on the case. And as much as I dislike Halloran—he’s been a good cop. Well”—he nodded to me—“watch out. Mastiff will be here after lunch.”
And true to his word, Detective Mastiff stepped inside the shop just after the lunch crowd started. He nodded to me and took up a chair in the corner of the tea shop. It wasn’t a big shop, and Mastiff was a pretty large man—large as in broad. I figured he worked out because I doubted that shoulders were actually born that big.
He was a handsome man, with amber eyes, close-cut hair, and smooth dark skin. If I didn’t know who he was, at a glance, I’d say he resembled Denzel Washington, only without the Day Glo teeth. His suit was impeccable, and Jemmy served him tea and cake on the house.
It was close to two before I felt comfortable leaving Jemmy alone in the shop. Mastiff followed me out, and I gave him the directions to Miller Oaks. He offered to drive me, but I figured that wasn’t necessary. He decided just to meet me there and was already out the door (probably to get away from the emo crowd that tended to hang out and surf the Net) when Jemmy called out for me.
“You got a phone call.”
I did? I hadn’t even heard it ring. “Can you take a message?”
“I already tried.” She came out of the kitchen with the store portable in her hand. “But he insists he has to talk to you now.”
Ah geez. I hoped it wasn’t the doctor at Miller Oaks, wanting to shift my mom’s body around again. I liked the private room. I wanted the private room. And as long as I could work to keep affording it, I would. Until I got her back.
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