Wraith

by Phaedra Weldon

  Oh screw you. I do not talk that much.

  Well. Maybe I do. “Anything else?”

  “You’ve got a slight concussion, nothing I’m worried about. You’ve been unconscious for nearly six hours and—”

  Six hours?

  “—your blood work isn’t very promising.”

  I looked over at Mom. I noticed her perfume then. Ode to Elizabeth Taylor. I couldn’t remember the name of it, only that it usually gave me a headache. “Six hours?”

  She nodded. “We’ll talk.”

  Code for “I’m going to ream you a new asshole after we fill you in.”

  Maddox picked up a clipboard from the end of my bed and thumbed through it. “Remember what we talked about during your appointment yesterday?”

  Uh-oh. I sort of did. Life was a motion blur at the moment.

  He set the clipboard against his chest. “Zoë—when I learned you were here, I checked on the tolerance test and compared it to your recent test.”

  Mom looked sharply at him. “You think she’s diabetic?”

  I sat forward. “What? You said you…you didn’t think I was.” Ow. I put a hand to my throat.

  With his hand up, and one of those oh-don’t-go-second-guessing-the-superior-doctor looks, he said, “Nona, calm down. Zoë, this morning, or rather yesterday morning, I wasn’t sure. I’m still not. But your blood came back from the lab here with elevated sugar levels, and according to what Rhonda said, you hadn’t really eaten anything in nearly fifteen hours. So I checked with the results from the test. Nearly the same level. That’s not good and is a sign of diabetes. Which might explain your fatigue and why you were unconscious so long. I want you to come back in later in the week with an empty stomach and let’s do a stepped glucose test.”

  I didn’t really get most of that. All I heard was diabetes. Me?

  That was a cruel, evil word. I’d had a friend growing up who’d been diabetic. Sharon Crumpton.

  Sharon had never eaten a chocolate cake. Or tasted double mocha mint ice cream. She’d never had a Hershey bar!

  Diabetic meant no Java Mocha Chip ice cream.

  No double-chocolate fudge brownies.

  No Sara Lee cheesecake.

  No Haagen Dazs ice cream of any flavor.

  I looked wide-eyed at the doctor. “I-I can’t be diabetic.”

  He came forward then and sat on the edge of the bed. “Zoë, I don’t know that for certain, and if you are, I’m sure it’s Type II, which we can regulate with diet. It could be something we can control.”

  Diet?

  He thought I was afraid of insulin shots!

  I was more afraid of the loss of sweets.

  He patted my hand. “I’ll have a nurse come in and remove the IV. I’d say you’re good to go home.” He looked at Mom. “But keep an eye on her. She’s got several nasty bruises besides the ones on her neck. I want her to get bed rest for at least a full day.”

  Mom nodded and got out of bed. I felt a bit sad. And a bit cold. Mom was a great heating pad. I nodded. “I’ll be…fine. So…” I looked around. Swallowed. OUCH. “Clothes?”

  He turned then. “Oh—before you leave—there are a couple of officers outside who need to speak with you.”

  I paused. Daniel? He was in my condo wasn’t he? Or at least I remembered seeing him. “For?”

  “You were attacked in your condo, Zoë. That’s very serious. And we need to catch the person who did this.” He smiled. “Remember, I expect to see you in my office in a few days.”

  He left the room. I turned to Mom. “I don’t want to be diabetic.”

  She put her hand in the air. “Oh posh. Those symptoms are just you being OOB for too long. Trust me. You’ll be fine.” She moved to a small closet I’d not seen before set into the wall by the door and pulled out my black gym bag.

  Either she was ignoring what Maddox said, or she’d entered that Scarlett O’Hara “I’ll deal with it tomorrow” phase. This was serious, and for once, I needed her to be serious.

  “Mom.” I rubbed at my forehead. My throat still hurt, and my head throbbed. I wanted to go home and curl up on my couch and eat brownies. “Rhonda thought maybe Trench-Coat and I might have done a bit of a symbiotic switch.”

  “We’ve already discussed this, Zoë. And I refuse to believe that. You are not connected to a Symbiont. It’s just not possible.”

  “Why is it not possible?”

  But she turned away. And that was the end of that discussion with Nona Martinique. I was her daughter, and I knew the signs. This woman was upset. Had something happened while I’d been in unconscious-land?

  “You’re not still mad at me are you?”

  Mom set the gym bag on the bed and pulled out my gray sweat-pants, purple socks, tee shirt, and a pair of bright, canary yellow slippers with orange beaks on them. She’d bought those for me a year ago, thinking they were cute chicks.

  I thought they were hideously deformed ducks.

  I blinked at the miasma of colors as it attacked my frontal lobe through my eyes. “Yow—who packed this stuff?”

  When she didn’t answer, I glanced over at Rhonda. She chewed on her lower lip but didn’t say anything. Well, she tried telling me something by pulling her index finger across her neck.

  I took that to mean cease and desist. It was then I noticed my mom’s red-rimmed eyes.

  All my life I’d thought of myself as being average. Average height. Average weight. Average looks (hey, brown hair and brown eyes—not exactly anything unique there). Average intelligence.

  But I knew from early on I had a knack for reading people. Reading their actions. I watched her movements, jerky and hasty.

  Her head was bent. Her shoulders rounded.

  And she’d crawled into a high-set hospital bed while ignoring her own back troubles just to be next to me.

  Mom was scared.

  I’d scared her. Much like the night of my rape.

  And I’d done this to her by acting against her wishes. Just as I had that night I’d gone out with friends.

  I reached out and took her hand. “Mom…”

  The door to my room opened then and Daniel walked in. He looked pale and a bit drawn, dressed in a dark blue shirt, khakis, and suit jacket.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  A taller man, dressed in an expensive gray suit, followed him in. His hair was short-cropped and graying at the temples, and his face was a mixture of wisdom and youth.

  Mom caught my eyes and winked before moving away. When she and Rhonda left the room, I pulled the bed’s blankets back up to my waist. I hadn’t had time to get dressed in Mom’s rainbow choices. Thank God.

  Daniel was beside me first. I could tell he was holding back, and I think if the other guy hadn’t been in there, he’d have hugged me.

  “Zoë, this is Captain Ken Cooper, my boss. He’s the one I showed the pictures to.” He turned and pulled the chair Mom had been sitting in closer. “We need to ask you some questions about the attack.”

  I had to blink several times to release my libido from the man’s incredibly blue eyes. I’d also noticed for the first time that his lower lip was a bit larger than his upper, giving him an almost pouty look. “Sh-sure. Sir, can you hand me that pitcher there? The one next to the mug?”

  Captain Cooper did as I asked and stood beside Daniel. “Miss Martinique, can you give us an account of what happened? When did you notice the attacker in your home?”

  Uh-oh. Now how did I work with this one? I couldn’t say I saw her in my face after jumping back into my body. I took several long gulps out of the pitcher of water, hoping it would ease the burn in my throat. “Sorry. Very thirsty. Well, I—I’d been napping. When I woke up, she was there, hovering over me.” This was the literal truth.

  “She?” Daniel said. “Did you recognize her?”

  I started to tell him it was the same woman from Hirokumi’s office, that afternoon, the one from the meeting.

  But he didn’t know I was there.
r />   Crap.

  But you know, even with a bruised throat and knocked head, I can usually think on my feet.

  I glanced down at my seated position. Er… make that my butt. “I thought”—owch—damn this throat—“thought she looked a lot like…that Asian actress. You know…Lucy Liu? She had some really great karate moves.” There, use that to explain my injuries, instead of saying I’d been tossed around by a pissed-off incorporeal ice bitch.

  My point hit home with Daniel. His eyes widened. He knew whom I was talking about—but how much of his meeting had he told Cooper? I could see he was getting excited.

  Gee—I wonder if he’d look that cute when sexually excited? I drank more water, hoping to at least put a damper on my overreacting private parts.

  Cute, cute, cute.

  I wanted to tell Daniel what I’d learned at Rollins’s home. But saying this in front of the big guy probably wasn’t a good idea.

  “Miss Martinique, do you know why this woman would attack you?” Cooper asked this question. He seemed interested as well as skeptical.

  “No.” I shook my head. I probably wouldn’t have passed a polygraph, but on the outside, I think I was pretty convincing.

  Daniel glanced to his right, where Cooper stood. “Zoë, there was a break-in at Reverend Rollins’s estate last night. Gunfire was reported. The Reverend insists it was nothing.”

  I gave him a shocked look, complete with girly wide eyes and open mouth. “Really? The good Reverend? That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah,” Cooper said. He sounded less than enthused. “Look, do you know any reason why this woman would be in your apartment? We saw no signs of a break-in, and Detective Frasier here said he arrived within minutes of a neighbor’s complaint of loud noises. Now, no one saw this woman leave.”

  I thought of the dragon artifact and wanted desperately to talk to Rhonda. Was Mitsuri in the bowels of an ethereal dragon? Or was she in the actual stone statue? Or was she ethereal mush?

  “I’m sorry, sir. She chased me around my home. I was yelling, screaming, anything to get help. Once she started choking me, I don’t remember anything after that.”

  Cooper nodded. “Well, I’m sorry this happened to you, Miss Martinique.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a card. I took it from him. “If you remember anything else or need anything, please feel free to call me or Detective Frasier.”

  I watched him turn and take several steps to the door. He paused and turned. “Frasier?”

  “I’d like to stay, Captain.” Daniel continued looking at me. If he used those eyes to interrogate me, I would blab anything he wanted. “Make sure Miss Martinique gets home safe.”

  “Her family’s here, Frasier. I expect to see you downstairs in the car in ten minutes.” With a nod to me, he left.

  “Pushy,” I muttered.

  When I turned, Daniel moved in front of me, his hands on my face, his lips pressing into mine again.

  Oh sweet Jesus! Nirvana! Heaven! Summerlands! And whatever other paradise there was in the universe!

  It was a moment before I kissed back, and then all those nasty thoughts that pass by most of us girls strayed into my brain. You know the ones: do I taste like garlic, does my breath smell? I haven’t brushed my teeth!

  And I probably looked like hell if I thought about how bruised and sore I felt.

  He pulled away, and I took a deep breath. And you know me—big mouth and all. “Well.” I cleared my throat and that just hurt like hell. “I didn’t realize our relationship had progressed to that yet.”

  “Oh.” He looked embarrassed, turned a beet red, and backed away.

  No! Get back over here! Damn mouth.

  “I’m sorry Zoë, I just wasn’t—I mean when I saw you there in your kitchen—”

  I gave him a smile as he ran his hand through his thick brown hair. Oh I reeeeeally wanted to do that myself. “Hey, I’m fine. Care to tell me though, what you were doing there? Or how you got there so fast?”

  “Oh, I can answer that,” Rhonda said, as she and Mom stepped back into the room.

  Daniel nodded to Rhonda, then offered his hand to Mom. “Detective Lieutenant Daniel Frasier, APD.”

  I gaped as I watched my mother blush when she took Daniel’s hand. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Detective. And I’m Nona Martinique, botanica and tea-shop owner.”

  And then she did it—that damned thing I always hate. She took his hand in both of hers and flipped it over so she could look at his palm.

  Oh puh-lease.

  “Oh dear, Detective, you have a cold brewing in your future. I see sickness. Perhaps you should come to my shop and enjoy a bit of yarrow tea. I also have several charms in sachets that could help with that dark cloud you have about your shoulders.”

  “Mom.”

  Daniel took a step back. “Uh…thanks.” He did manage to wrangle his hand free.

  I sighed and finished off the water before looking at Rhonda. “You were saying?”

  “Oh yeah.” She grinned. “I was coming back up the drive after running down to Brewster’s—you know you’re out of ice cream? That’s a crime in your place. Anyway, I saw this guy sitting in his car outside the condo building. He looked a bit odd, and he was talking to himself.”

  “I was not talking to myself,” Daniel said. “I was sort of—trying to make up my mind.” He looked at me. “I wanted to come see you—felt a bit like a rude son of a bitch earlier, especially after you helped me with those photos. You believed in me, and I cut you out.”

  “Well.” My voice was crackling a bit, more throaty than usual. I wanted more water. “Oh…geez this hurts. But it’s not your fault the case is closed.”

  “I’m not sure it is.” He looked from me to Mom to Rhonda.

  I held up my hand. “It’s okay—they’re in on it—so to speak.”

  He appeared to relax. “The woman you described—I’ve seen her. She was at Visitar Inc., the other day when I had my meeting with Hirokumi. Kept saying she felt a presence in the room, when really I thought she was just sticking it to Koba.”

  “So this intruder works for Visitar?” Mom shook her head. “Now that doesn’t make any sense. Why attack my daughter?”

  I looked at her. “Because I saw her at Rollins’s house.” Oops.

  Curse my mouth!

  Daniel was on his feet. “You were there. Was that you that broke in?”

  Uh. I—well—uh‑

  Damn.

  Teleport, teleport, teleport…crap.

  17

  RHONDA moved closer. “She saw you?”

  I understood her emphasis on saw. No one was supposed to have seen me. I nodded at Rhonda but then cut my eyes over at Daniel. This was not the place to have this conversation.

  “Saw you…wait.” He shook his head. “That couldn’t have been you. Rollins lives across town, and you were already on the way to the hospital before I heard about the break-in. Rhonda said you were in your condo while I was there. I saw your car. You couldn’t have been in Rollins’s house.”

  Mom came to the rescue. She reached out and put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Honey, relax. You’re going to pop an artery.”

  “Ma’am, what Zoë’s saying is impossible. She couldn’t have been there.”

  What do I do now? Daniel—being the incredible detective I suspected he was—was not going to let this go. And how could I tell him I was an astral Traveler on the fast track to becoming a Wraith (one of the twisted)? He’d never believe me.

  Unless…

  “I wasn’t, Daniel.” Well, not physically anyway. “But like I told my mom earlier…” I gave Nona a meaningful stare, hoping she’d go along with me as I made this up. “I drove by Rollins’s place yesterday, after you called. And I saw this Asian woman coming out of his estate.”

  There. It was a whopper of a little white lie. But I sure as heck wasn’t ready to explain my little condition to the future father of my children.

  He seemed to relax a little and took a s
tep back to me. “And she saw you, watching her?”

  I nodded. He seemed to be buying it. “I’m sure that’s it. And I figure maybe she followed me, and she maybe saw me with you.” Under my breath I was reciting my Hail Marys at record speed.

  “Well”—Daniel shook his head—“I guess that makes sense. I just—when I heard about the shooting out at the Rollins’s house—I somehow believed you’d been there.” He gave me an endearing smile. “I guess that’s impossible, huh?”

  A circus tune played in the room from somewhere, and I thought for an instant I was hearing the wrong kind of music—especially since I disliked circuses. They have clowns.

  I hate clowns. Well not so much hate them—I’m damned scared of them.

  Tacky things give me the creeps. Especially harlequins. Evil creatures.

  Daniel reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small phone and looked at the screen. “It’s Cooper. He wants me downstairs.” He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll look into this woman, check out her background. And I’m going to have an officer outside your building.”

  I started to open my mouth, but he put a finger to my lips. I resisted the urge to pull that finger in my mouth and suck it.

  Hey, a near-death experience makes some people very horny. I wasn’t sure sex was an option in the afterlife. Might as well grab the gusto while it stood in front of me, right?

  Daniel smiled and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Can I see you tonight? Maybe stop by?”

  “Sure.” I felt all giddy inside, kinda like the first time Bob Ryerson asked me to a basketball game. Of course, my mom was the coach, and I was playing, so I got him in free and he sat with Paula Woods while I beat sweat on the court.

  Hrm. Well—maybe not like that.

  “You come on by, and I’ll have a nice dinner fixed,” Mom said, and she took Daniel’s hand and squeezed it.

  “You’ll make sure she takes it easy?” He glanced at me. I blushed.

  Mom beamed. “Even if I have to chain her to the bed.”

  Uh…Now that was a bit scary. Mom might really have chains somewhere. And she’d use ‘em. Hell, the woman had pulled a gun on me!

  Once he was gone, the nurse came in and removed the IV and handed me a little cup of pills and a fresh glass of water.