Asshats.
During that time, Mom had cut the hours at the shop. Jemmy ran it most of the time. And Joe came in and helped on those weekends he wasn't busy. He and I were on awkward territory. Mom told me he felt guilty for what Rhonda had done.
For stealing all of Dags' romantic memories of me. And taking him for herself.
Hard to believe, huh. My best friend chose the love of my life over friendship…and fairness.
She had what she wanted.
And what did I have?
A tattoo…a streak of white hair…and evil bunny slippers.
It was Friday afternoon, December—something. Ah hell. Christmas was a week away, and I hadn't helped Jemmy put up the Yule decorations in the shop. Though I had helped myself to several pieces of her chocolate bark. Peppermint and spearmint candy, held together by white chocolate.
I didn't care if I gained weight or not. Fuck them all.
It'd been raining. No surprise there. We mostly got rain in the South in winter. I was on the porch, sitting in one of the rockers, a cup of coffee in my hands, and a Snuggie draped over my front.
"Lover, you look like hammered shit."
Damn it. I wasn't in the mood. I closed my eyes and gave a long exaggerated sigh. "What? Can't you leave me in peace?"
"No. And you really don't want me too. Besides…I have a problem, and you're the only one I know who can investigate it for me."
He was beside me, sitting in the chair. I could sense him—just like I could sense my arms and legs. He was a part of me, as he always had been. Just…he was different now.
I leaned my head back and turned it to face him. "TC—you're the Phantasm. What the hell can I do that you can't?"
He looked the same as he always had when he was just a First Born. Vin Diesel. But dressed in a suit now. And no shades. His eyes were no longer white, but amber. Sometimes they were brown. They were always different when I saw him—like he was still trying to settle in.
Two months ago, this First Born, the last of the original Phantasm's children, put himself inside the Throne, within the gentle care of the Geist, so he could carry forth his father's legacy. He'd never been a Revenant. And he hated the Ethereal Plane about as much as I did.
Weird huh? I hated what some called Heaven.
And with good reason.
My father was there. And I don't mean my spiritual father.
"Walking shadows."
I gave him my best WTF look. "Come again? As far as I can tell," and I looked around the room with my now ever-present Wraith Vision (maybe I should trademark that), "Shadows ooze. They don't walk."
He shrugged and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The sun was setting to the left, just passing behind the tops of the buildings in Little Five Points. "Not these. I got reports of zombies running around Buckhead."
Zombies?
"Don't we call those Lamias or something?"
"No…not these. Lamias are created by Ghouls. These things are created by something a bit more sinister." He licked his lips. "Ever heard of Sin Eaters?"
I sipped my coffee. It was already getting cold. Damn winter. "Isn't that what I do?"
He shrugged. "Jury's still out on that. What you do, I mean. Sin Eaters are, in truth, Dominions, which are another rung of Ethereal spin-offs. Now," he held up his hand when I opened my mouth to speak. "Just hear me out. Dominions are between Thrones—you know what those are now—and Virtues like your dad. They're the mediators between the upper class and the lower class in the Ethereal realm. Usually they stick to affairs on the Outer Planes and work internally there.
"But recently—well since the Bulwark—and the almost-Bulwark we escaped—several of them crossed the borders to deliver their judgment on Abysmal creatures living in physical bodies. Part of the plan to get rid of the Abysmal influence in the Physical Plane. They consume the human soul inside the possessed body."
I arched my eyebrows and leaned forward. "So?"
"So—that leaves whatever Abysmal creature that slipped into that body trapped in the body. Most creatures like Symbionts and Daemons can't really pilot a body. I think you'll remember what happened to your own body when a Daemon slipped into it while you were out?"
Oh, hell yeah I did. I'd been OOB, checking out a dead body in the women's bathroom at the Peachtree Plaza back in February, and a Daemon possessing the now-dead body hopped right into mine and took it for a test drive. Cracked my ankle, bruised it up pretty bad, and destroyed that nice dress I'd put on my mom's credit card.
"Yeah…"
"This Dominion has been eating these souls, which has led to the soulless bodies wandering around and rotting. A human soul is what holds the fabric of the physical together, Zoë."
"I got it. So…what is it you want me to do?"
"There's a club downtown—it's not something most people know about. I only discovered it myself. But it's a haven for Ethereals who like to slum it. And usually nobody cares. They're lower level celestials. Virtues, a few Principalities—"
"Prince-a-whats?"
"Doesn't matter. Just celestials caught in the Seraphim's caste system. They like to try out avarice now and then and see what it is they're missing. And my father, and even Sophie, indulged them. It's a place even Revenants could go and relax with impunity."
I leaned my head the other way and brought my coffee up to my lips. "But something's changed."
"Yep. It has. There's been another Revenant death."
That…wasn't what I expected to hear. I nearly choked on my coffee. I set the mug on a nearby wicker table and narrowed my eyes at him. "I—no one's told me there was another death. Who was it?" My heart skipped. "Oh god, it wasn't someone I knew, was it? Re? Loki? Dagda?"
"No. This Revenant wasn't around when all the shit happened. You don't know this one—in fact I'm not sure where in the list my dad popped this one out."
I made a face. "That sounded awful."
"Well it's not like we were all born the usual physical way." He grinned. "Which seems kinda disappointing."
"I thought there were a limited number of you. Like only fifteen or so left?"
"Oh. Shit. Where did you get that number? Did you read Inanna's journal at all?"
"I read what you did. Before it got all sucked up inside of—" and that's where I lost it again. I couldn't even say his name. Instead I closed my mouth and looked straight ahead. I didn't trust myself to speak.
TC had been there when I'd learned what Rhonda had done, and that Dags didn't love me anymore. Hell, Dags didn't even know me. And to my surprise, TC—the old shit—had been very…nice to me. Maybe being a super-grand muckity muck was good for him. Shoulda happened sooner.
"There are more than fifteen, but less than fifty. We only give such a small number because we don't know where the rest are. We can only count those of us who stayed in touch. Those of us who kept close ties."
I nodded. I had to sip coffee fast. Scald my tongue. I swallowed. "Who was it…and what happened. You think it was a Dominion?"
"The First Born's name was Zivena. Her Revenant host was Strauss. And as for what happened…" he was looking at me. "Yes I do. But this time, instead of just taking the human soul in the body, the attacker also drained her blood."
•••
Apparently, there were five witnesses to this weirdness. Two were human with no idea what they'd seen. The other two were Symbionts—the old-fashioned kind—inhabiting humans. Why? I didn't know. Didn't care. Wasn't my bit.
Whoever this guy was, he was tall, slim, and had white hair. I wondered if he was older, but TC said the descriptions all said he looked like a young man. He had pale golden eyes and a stoic expression.
"So," we were inside, in front of the fireplace. TC had built it up for me, and Jemmy had left for the night. Once she saw TC, she'd booked. I sat on my papasan. He stood by the flame. "This guy came in the club, walked directly up to Strauss, and bit him. Like a Revenant would."
"Yes."
"And no one stopped him?
"
"Everyone said the same thing—they couldn't move. It was like their physical bodies were grounded to the spot. This person drained every drop from Strauss's body. So when this creature left, and they could all move, one of the Symbionts said he ran to the body and could see the First Born struggling to keep the body alive. But once bonded—" he rubbed at his bald head. "A First Born can't exist without a body."
"So…Zivena died?"
"Returned to Abysmic essence. She's there…I can sense what she once was. But as time passes, all of those memories, the souls of her hosts, will all disappear. But what disturbed me the most is that I can't find Strauss's soul. There wasn't a trace of it in the club. Geist checked on the position of the soul—"
I held up my hand. "He can do that?"
"Well, of course," TC smirked. "Or have you forgotten what he is?"
Universal Mind. Holy Ghost.
Big Brain.
"So…where did it go?"
"We can only assume this creature has it. Usually Dominions judge and sentence the soul. Much like a Reaper. But I think this one kept the soul for itself."
"They can do that?"
TC pointed at me. "Yeah—and I think that's what's giving it this power. Drinking human blood is a new thing—and I'm not sure if that has anything to do with it. I need you to find him. I think you—with your adherence to souls—might be able to retrieve the soul and tell me what the hell he is."
I set my now-cold coffee on the hearth of the fireplace. "And exactly how am I supposed to find this thing? It sounds like it came out of nowhere, knew exactly what a Revenant was, and with no resistance from the Revenant or anyone else, drank its blood." I coughed. "Sounds to me like you got Dracula, dude."
"What I got is serious shit."
"They don't usually do that, do they? Drink blood?"
"No," he rubbed his chin. "But there is a path…"
I waited. When he didn't continue and just stared into the fire, I snapped my fingers. "Hey. Yo! Over here? Path? You know," I folded my arms over my chest. "You seem to be settling in pretty good with this."
He looked at me. "Actually I suck at it. All I ever do is fix arguments." He held out his hands. "Well, I need you to get ready. Go OOB—" he stopped. "Can't really call it that anymore. You tend to stay in your body nowadays."
"I just call it going Wraith." I blinked. "You mean right now?"
"Well yeah—Manuel is already there."
"Manuel—" I uncrossed my arms. "My Manuel?"
He wasn't really mine. But ever since my ghastly heartbreak and subsequent almost killing of Rhonda Orly, Manuel had pretty much been as much a constant as Daniel. Manuel was the host Revenant to the First Born, Morgan. He was well mannered, seemed to be appreciative of everything, and was a little hottie.
Fucker held one hell of a resemblance to Enrique Iglesias.
And though he looked like jailbait—kid had to have been bonded at like seventeen or eighteen—he was much older then me. He'd been born before World War II. And his First Born? We're talk'n ancient.
Mental Note: wait—when was the last time I had one of these?
Sidebar—I wondered exactly how old Morgan was. I learned that her previous host, Elizabeth, had been Jason's lover, and technically, Morgan and Mephistopheles were brother and sister…
Blech.
Either way—Manuel was a cutie, and I thought of his little boyish self as mine.
"He probably got to the club about a half hour ago. He's supposed to call if he sees anything."
"You're using Manuel as bait?" I stood up. I was not a happy camper. "You asshole—you can't do that to him! What if that thing grabs him and takes his soul from Morgan?"
"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.
"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."
•••
Never heard of it. But then, 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 it—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. He was thinking about bending over the bouncer.
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's. Buckhead. I'd been following Daniel.
So…
Get a grip! He doesn't remember you!
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 Nick, his Ghoul. 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 and told him. 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 was wearing 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.
But his eyes…were red. 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?
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. Wondering why there was a cat making a noise in a nightclub.
Tales Of The Abysmal Plane (Zoë Martinique Short Stories) (The Zoë Martinique Investigation Series) Page 22