"That's why you need to get to the club as fast as you can."
I did not like the smile he had on his fucking ugly face. The son of a bitch just manipulated me into helping him—didn't even give me the opportunity to say no. He skipped right past the arguing part to "We're all gonna die!"
I really hated him sometimes.
I did something I hadn't done much since Rhonda's betrayal—I shifted to Wraith. My clothing melted into my skin as it turned the color of ash. The cloth became shadows that cloaked all the right parts in darkness as I felt my wings unfurl. My hair moved around my shoulders, and I looked down to see my taloned feet and clawed hands. Bunnies with attitude.
"Magnificent."
Yeah…only he would think I looked good like this. I thought I looked like a freak. I almost growled at him. "If anything happens to Manuel—"
"It won't. I trust you, Zoë. You'll stop it."
"Where am I going?"
He smiled. "The Getaway."
•••
This was a new club as far as I knew. But it'd been a long time since I'd visited Atlanta's nightlife. Last club I'd gone into was Opera and that was for a fight between Lex and Jason. That night hadn't ended well.
I couldn't Google the place—TC had to give me directions. It took about twenty minutes for me to find it and walk through the front past a line of Goth-wannabes. I was incorporeal, so I'm sure I gave whomever I passed through the shivers. And, luckily, their thoughts were benign enough that I didn't get any weird—
No. Wait. That one was thinking about bending the bouncer over the bar and getting freaky.
Oh…kay.
Moving right along.
It wasn't a crowded bar—not on the inside. Apparently there was a number control for the bouncer outside to make sure the inside capacity didn't scream fire hazard. There didn't seem to be anything too crazy about the decor. Looked like any other basement club I'd been in or seen in a movie. Painted black walls, mist, waist-high bar around the dance floor, and mirror-covered areas that proved to me I wasn't really there.
You know, that's kind of weird looking in a mirror and not seeing yourself.
The bar was the pride and joy of the place, located in the very back and surrounded by lounge chairs and deep couches. Wouldn't get me on any of that furniture, not without shining one of those CSU lights on it to show bodily fluids.
Ew.
I spotted Manuel at the bar. He was dressed in a bomber jacket, tight dark jeans (they looked like leather), boots, and a wreath of women. Yeah, he was a cutie. And always noticed. I moved in closer and took up a position near the bar. The bartender was female—which made me feel a little better. First time I'd ever seen Dags was at a bar.
Fadó. Buckhead. I'd been following Daniel.
So…
Get a grip! He doesn't remember you!
What was wrong with me? Did I have one of those curses on my ass? Any guy that starts to like me either gets possessed or has his memories erased.
God…I was my own kind of Abysmal Emo.
Manuel sensed me because he looked right at me and winked.
Nothing so far, Morgan said inside my head. I really liked her voice. It was kinda like Stevie Nicks. All throaty and sexy.
I see Manuel's as popular as ever.
Uh huh. She sounded bored. Poor First Born. To be a woman trapped inside the body of a hot guy.
I sort of hung out there for a while, watching as people came and ordered drinks. The bartender was a machine, cranking them out with a smile and a nod. And not one complaint. Me? I'd have mixed the rum with the vodka and been shot.
I watched Manuel play. Drink. And dance. Wow…he could dance.
This isn't all him. I used to be a pretty good dancer.
I laughed. You mean with Elizabeth?
Of course. You should ask Jason sometime.
I would—when I saw him. He hadn't been around much, he and Ghoul, Nick. I wondered what they were up to.
Suddenly—it was there. Just…there.
A feeling of incredible…pressure.
The Abysmal hairs on the back of my neck rose as I levitated a few inches off the floor to look out over the heads of people. It was here. Or something was here.
Manuel sensed it too and made his way back to the bar next to me. "You feel that?" he said.
Yes I do, I told him. He'd be able to hear me, just as Morgan could. You think that's it?
"Yeah…" he said as he scanned the crowd.
The wave started on the far side of the bar. One by one, dancers stopped dancing. They just…froze. I touched Manuel's shoulder. He saw it too and braced himself as the wave of stillness traveled slowly, but steadily, toward the bar.
That feeling of OMG continued as the wave hit those near us. They stopped in whatever it was they were doing, as if someone had freeze-framed a movie. But I could see their faces. Everything was still but their eyes. They were aware. And they were trapped.
And then I saw it.
And I wasn't sure if it was a man or a woman. And I didn't think it mattered.
It was beautiful to look at. White hair that seemed to move of its own down to broad shoulders. Its skin was nearly the same color, and it wore a long white coat of some kind. Even the shoes were a shade of white.
If I wasn't so freak'n scared, I'd have made a crack about a white chocolate Barbie-Man.
Zoë—we can't move.
What? I looked on my left to Manuel. He wasn't moving. Can Manuel feel it?
Yes, and he's panicking. I can't blame him. I literally can't move this body.
Shit.
But I could move mine. Was it because I was incorporeal?
The creature finished weaving through the still bodies and stood directly in front of Manuel. I glanced back at the bartender. She was in mid-shake of a martini.
Now that he was closer, I saw that he wore a cassock, just like I'd seen priests wear. Only this one was white. I could see his face now. And I'd say it was a he. But he was a pretty he. Kinda reminded me of Vanilla Ice only with a lot of hair and not a flat-top.
But his eyes…were red not gold. Ruby red.
He held out his right hand. "Oh great knower of all truths, I take this sinner into me, I take his evil, I take all of his worldly mistakes so that when he enters the kingdom he will be clean, he will be absolved, and he will be worthy."
I frowned. What the fuck was that?
Zoë! Morgan's voice was louder than ever. Azrael was right—it's a Dominion! You have to stop it!
How?
I don't know.
Oh fucking great. I at least thought YOU had a plan.
It's going to consume Manuel's soul through the blood—consume his sins.
And that's when I heard it. A man's voice calling out. It sounded like a cat at first, and since there are a lot of strays that hang out at Mom's, I didn't really think much about the noise till now. Wondered why a cat was in a nightclub making noise.
I narrowed my eyes at this creature and if I stared directly at its chest, I could make out a rainbow of little lights. They twinkled like Christmas lights. Were those little things actual souls?
To my surprise, Manuel tilted his head to the side as if opening up his neck for a snack.
Oh hell no! My Manuel.
I slipped between the two just as Vanilla Ice Sin Eater Dominion Guy came close. He had his right hand out with a knife—ready to slit Manuel's throat—
Until his outstretched hand hit my incorporeal body. He snarled, hissed, and jumped back to the front of the still bodies of the clubgoers. His face was a mask of rage and surprise, and his eyes were red now. Not just the iris. He looked like he'd been drinking.
That guy's voice called out even louder now. And the lights in whitey's chest twinkled brighter. My ears buzzed.
"What is this?" Oh, and it had such a lovely singing voice. All gravely and kinda Harvey Fierstein-ish.
The thing practically growled. I narrowed my eyes at it, but stood m
y ground. I hadn't felt anything from the contact, but then I was incorporeal. "What the hell are you supposed to be? Looks like the white rabbit bit Neo."
He tilted his head to the side. Yeah…pop-culture reference totally a waste on this one. "You're not anything I've seen before. But," and his voice returned to the pleasant singsong he'd used before. "No matter. My work here must continue." And he flicked his wrist at me.
A big-ass white sword came out of that wrist and he attempted to skewer me. I shot up and flipped back to stand on top of the bar behind Manuel. With a slight flick of my own wrist, I summoned my sword. Of course mine was black with a bright red flame to it. I was pretty sure I could change that look—I just had to figure out where the preferences were in this new human-to-Wraith step.
"You're…you're not one of the Abominations. But you have the feel of one."
Abominations? "You mean one of the First Born?"
"Do not call them that. They are not the first. The Seraphim is."
"Wow…you're one of those crazy kinds of followers."
He dove at me. I shoved Manuel out of the way—and he tipped over. Didn't even bother to catch himself. But at least he was out of the line of fire as I jumped down and blocked the first attack. Whitey feigned and then came at me from the side. I managed to bring the sword down to block, but he slid his away, twisted, and got a really good hit in on my upper arm.
The pain was like…
"Motherfuckinggoddamnitwhoowthatfuckinghurt!"
Yeah. I said that.
I stepped back and looked down at my skin. I had a huge slice through the upper arm and it wasn't healing. In fact, it looked like it was bleeding black blood.
Black blood? What the hell?
"I smite you, the wicked. I sense in you the worst kind of Abomination. You are Irin, but one tainted by the Abysmal essence. It is your soul I shall free this night." And with that, he came hacking and slashing at me again.
Oh no you di'n't just call me an Abomination. I'd already been through all that with some other crazies and I was not about to go through it again. I was born an Irin, but turned into a Wraith. I'd been a Phantasm potential and I'd been master of the universe.
And I was not taking that kind of crap from some two-bit, white-assed, bishi-looking Ethereal murderer. I countered every move even though I was slowly getting pushed farther away from Manuel. Morgan was screaming in my head to kill it—but how did I do that? He landed another hit—and I landed my first—just as I rounded with my sword and dipped down before I came up. The move evaded his parry, and my sword came up into his side. I pulled and yanked away, the blade slicing into the flesh.
He screamed and went down on one knee, doubled over with his sword on the floor. I thought about using my scream to get rid of him—but then it'd also affect everyone in the direct blast area. I did not want to hurt all those innocent victims frozen in place. I dismissed my sword and with a glance over at Manuel, knelt beside the Dominion.
"You have something I want. And I plan on taking it back." When Maureen had used the old destruction ritual against the Revenants, it'd left the body dying and the souls trapped inside. I'd actually reached inside and released those souls.
Time to try that again.
The creature looked confused and I realized it had no idea what I was or what I was capable of. So when he pushed himself up on his knees I rammed both of my hands inside his chest.
The bodies I'd done this to before had been cold. And that cold had traveled up and into my body. But this time it was different. It was hot. In fact, it was almost scalding as I slipped in. The buzzing I'd noticed in the back of my head turned into voices as they rushed forward at me.
There were thousands of them…
Dear god…so many souls. Had this thing devoured them all?
And as they passed by me and vanished I felt a fire burning in my chest. It was just uncomfortable at first, but pretty soon it became a searing pain and I finally made a scream to match the Dominion's.
Let go! It's an Ethereal Being Zoë! You're Abysmal—you're going to kill each other!
Wait—wasn't killing it the whole plan? Or had I missed something?
The pain became more than I could stand and as the souls ripped past me I started grabbing them and devouring them. First one, and then two, and soon I was past twenty—but the pain subsided as even more were released. Soon I'd be eating them as fast as they could run.
And what frightened me is that I didn't care.
I felt…powerful.
I felt—
"Zoë!"
There was a painful crack in my right side. I pulled my right hand free in reaction to it and then lost the connection with the Dominion. I collapsed on the floor. I felt myself returning to just me, sans Wraith and felt the cold, hard concrete under me.
But the pain in my side—
"Call an ambulance."
"Did that freak stab her?"
"Hey, Manuel—you got a phone?"
I heard the voices but they were pretty much nothing compared to the increasing pain in my side. Oh god…had that thing stabbed me with its sword as I was sucking the souls out?
"I'm gonna take her myself, okay? You guys call the cops on that guy."
I felt Manuel's warm hands on me as he slipped an arm under my back and then one under my knees. I leaned into him and heard his heart beating. "What—"
"Ssshhh…" he said. "We'll be at my place in a few. I'm sure Azrael will meet us there."
"But what about…"
"He's the way he should be. You did…" but he didn't complete the sentence.
I felt my eyes flittering as the darkness on the edges of my vision crowded in toward the center.
"I saw them, Manuel. I saw them."
He still didn't answer.
•••
I woke up next to headless Mary. Again.
Alone.
I tried to take in a deep breath and hissed instead. My chest hurt when I did that.
"You took a good stab in the ribs," TC's voice said to my left. "Luckily, he moved the blade between the them."
Stab?
I turned my head to look at him.
He looked like he used to. Black trench, black shades, riding gloves. He was seated beside my old bed and I could hear Jemmy downstairs laughing. "Who stabbed me?"
"Manuel. It was the only way he knew to stop you from killing anymore souls."
The room tilted to one side. His words triggered a pleasant memory that echoed in the back of my thoughts. A memory of a thousand souls lined up to give themselves to me.
"I—I started killing them."
"Yes. But it was justified from my point of view. Zacharel was a Dominion. Ethereal. You're more Abysmal now, so when you slipped inside his corporeal form, his Ethereal essence tried to destroy your Abysmal. While you freed many of the souls he'd eaten—you did have to start consuming them in order to survive his Ethereal attacks."
"I…" I sat up and then grabbed my side. But I was looking at TC. "How many did I take? Azreal…how many?"
"I don't know," he looked a little surprised at me asking. "Maybe close to fifty. If that many. I think the bastard had close to a thousand inside of him."
I sat in muted, shocked anger. I…devoured fifty souls?
"So…many…"
"Zoë," TC put a hand on my shoulder. All I could feel was leather. "You didn't have a choice. Of all the creatures of either plane, the Dominion is your equal."
"What?" I looked at him and he removed his shades. I looked into his eyes. "My equal?"
"Yes. Your ability to take souls is very similar to theirs. But where you devour, the Dominions hold the souls in limbo until they're either given over to Ethereal essence or Abysmal."
I only heard about a third of what he said. The rest of it just bounced around in my head. I put a hand to my side. "Did you figure out why it was drinking blood?"
"Best we can come up with he did it to hold the First Born to the body while he
took the soul. If the body dies, then the First Born is at its weakest. He takes the soul and the First Born is helpless until the body finally starts to decompose."
Ew. "I thought the moment the body dies they'd be released."
"It's not that simple. Remember how that spell worked? How the body died because of the loss of blood but the bond kept both of them in the body? The Dominion was ripping the human soul and leaving enough of it behind to trap the First Born."
"That's just seven shades of wrong."
"That's a Dominion. They have no love for anything in the Abysmal Plane. You think they're bad?" He stood. "Don't ever tangle with a Cherubim. They don't actually have a soul."
"Where is he now? The Dominion?"
"The Society has him. He's not going anywhere for a while. And I hope they enjoy poking at him. I need to get back to the job. But it was good seeing you, Luv."
Before I could ask him the question that was heaviest on my mind, he vanished.
I sat in the bed for a long time, bent over, remembering what I could about the experience. I somehow felt worse now than I had before I started. If he'd wanted to get my mind off of Dags—it worked. But somehow I felt it was better to feel sorry for myself for losing a lover…not for destroying lives.
"Zoë," Manuel said.
I looked at the door. Dressed in jeans and a peacoat with a white hoodie he looked so much like a young college student. I looked back at my hands. "I'm not mad, Manuel. You did what you had to."
"I think I know that. But still…." He came in and stood at the foot of my bed. "I feel awful. I was useless, you know. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't—I couldn't even stop it from attacking me."
"As a Revenant your power is diminished. That was a full-on Dominion."
"Yea but—"
"Don't feel bad."
The silence lasted for a while before he took in a deep breath. "Zoë—I know what you want to ask."
Good. I'd been sitting there trying to come up with the best way to ask it. "And?"
"Zivena is gone. Returned to the Well of Souls. As for the human soul…" He looked at his hands. "The answer is—I don't know. No one does. Once a soul is free or devoured no one can track what happens to it. We have to do it all on faith."
Walking Shadows Page 2