Soul Cage (8 page)

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Authors: Phaedra Weldon

Tags: #urban fantasy, #ghosts, #spirits, #magic, #dark fantasy, #witches, #guardian, #zoe martinique, #dark urban fantasy, #familiars, #stone dragon, #zoe martinique investigation series, #joe halloran, #soul cage

BOOK: Soul Cage
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Big surprise that
day.

His grandmother, the
second daughter of a second daughter, and his mother, also the
second daughter of a second daughter, had been very diligent in
following all the proper herbal and ritual assurances that her
second child would be a female. Her first had been a girl—and
though not magically gifted—Rachelle was smart, brilliant and
talented in many other ways. So it seemed logical the second child
would be female. None of the Halloran women had undergone sonograms
or amniocentesis to determine sex before birth. It was believed
those scientific methods would interfere with nature's work. The
fetus would be magically sterilized.

Then out popped
Joe.

Ignored at first by his
mother, who felt as if she'd failed the Goddess, Joe grew up
surrounded by love from his extended family, and most of all cared
for by his older sister. In time when it became evident that Joe
was indeed a witch—and a powerful one—his mother and grandmother
started taking a vested interest. After all, without the God there
cannot be the Goddess.

But by then it was too
late, and Joe's opinion of magic was bullshit, as were his beliefs
in a system that'd failed him.

But over the years he'd
discovered things would come naturally to him. Wish-Craft is what
he called it. He'd want something in a powerful way, and events
would arrange themselves to grant him whatever it was. A girl. A
promotion. A house.

Except for one.

There was one thing his
magic wouldn't give him.

Zoë.

And because of that
failure he'd started listening to Rhonda and Nona, see for himself
what he could do to make a difference in this 'effed up world. He
started his training seriously after Zoë and Rhonda had their first
falling out. And a romantic relationship developed between Rhonda
and himself, though he knew she was attracted to Dags
McConnell.

Then came Dags' rescue
from Rodriquez which was the catalyst for Rhonda's subsequent
mastery of a spell she barely knew, one she'd written to destroy
the
Grimoire
, but
instead had fused it to Dags' soul.

Her doing that had scared
the shit out of Joe and once the universe put them all back
together again, he renewed his interest in Zoë from afar, just as
he watched Rhonda renew hers of Dags.

And how cruel was fate
when revealed that Zoë and Dags loved one another?

It'd been
devastating.

Joe had kissed Zoë only
the one time, in that basement. He'd felt it in the marrow of his
bones, and he knew she'd felt it as well. The power behind
it.

And then it was over. And
he'd remained steadfast. A friend to her, and oddly enough to the
Symbiont / First Born that transformed her into a
Wraith.

Now he was friends with
the Phantasm of the Abysmal Plane, his best friend was a vampire
and running from the very system he swore to defend, and his former
girlfriend was about to go all Dark Willow on one of the women he
admired more than his own mother.

No. I don't think
so.

Wish-Craft or not, Joe set
his gun aside on the counter as he felt the magic churn around
Rhonda. He wouldn't let her hurt Nona, or Jason, or anyone else for
a while. Something was very wrong with Rhonda—they'd all seen it.
What she'd done to Dags and Zoë was unforgivable. If she'd have
just shown some sign of remorse at her actions, he was sure he
could forgive her.

But she hadn't.

In fact, she'd started
treating Dags like a possession. And inside of him was a
very…powerful…possession.

Abruptly he saw in his
mind's eye the thing he wanted. And just like all the other times
in his life where he desired something, wished for it, it came to
him.

The power to shut her
down.

He wasn't aware the
maelstrom Rhonda's magic began in the kitchen suddenly ceased.
During his wish knives had rattled in their butcher blocks but
never escaped. Pots and pans clanked together from where they hung
over the counter but never broke away to sail into the air like
missiles. Tiles rattled from the walls as the grout holding them in
place turned to dust but they simply fell to their cracked doom
instead of flying off. Every possible item she could have used in
the room shook at her command—

But
obeyed
his.

Silence rushed in and
Rhonda staggered back. What could have been a disaster had been
mitigated down to a few hundred dollars in tile
replacement.

Sweat beaded on Rhonda's
forehead, on her neck and cheeks. Her wide eyes searched the faces
in front of her—but they were looking at each other.

"Who—" Rhonda choked out.
"What the fuck is going on?! Who did that?"

Jason pursed his lips. He
crossed his arms over his chest. "Looks to me like there's a witch
a hell of a lot stronger in here than you. And they don't like way
you behaved just then. So why don't we start over?"

"I want to know who!"
Rhonda ignored Jason. She approached Nona but Nick blocked her way.
She looked at Joe and her expression fell— "No…."

He clenched his jaw as he
softened his anger at her. Stopping her magic had been…easy. And he
wasn't going to let on how that scared the shit out of him. He
hadn't known he could do it, but he hadn't believed he couldn't.
Basics of magic. You believe. You can.

You doubt, you
die.

"Yes," he said as he moved
to stand in front of the other two. "Back the fuck off, Rhonda. No
one in this room has touched or messed with that damned
Grimoire
but you." He
was amazed how strong and solid his voice sounded while inside his
heart beat bruises against his chest. "Jason took Dags out to get
you a present—why the fuck can't you accept that?" Nona had already
filled him in on the morning's events. "If there's something wrong
now with the book—don't you think it's better to talk to us so we
can help? Rather than go all Wicked Witch of the West? Cause right
now, if you do that again, I swear I'll drop a house on
you."

She stared at him more
with disbelief than anger at first. He watched as her expression
slowly changed. Shifted. And as he watched he thought he
saw…something else. Something very
wrong
.

Joe thought she was going
to turn and run. Leave them all alone. Instead she took in a deep
breath and crossed her arms over her chest to match Jason's. "Dags
is sick."

"Sick?" Nona the mom said
as she pushed everyone out of her way. "Let me see him."

Rhonda
hesitated.

Joe
pushed
at Rhonda. It wasn't a mental
shove as much as an astral poke, to remind her he was there. He'd
done it a few times now and then when they were dating, when she
taught him the differences in the planes. And back then it had all
been in fun.

But not now.

No. Boundaries had just
been crossed.

Rhonda stepped back,
glared at Joe, nodded to Nona, turned and left the
kitchen.

Nona put a hand on Joe's
arm. "We need to talk," was all she said before she followed
behind.

Joe braced himself on the
counter next to where he'd set his gun. His knees burst like water
filled balloons and he was pretty sure if the counter hadn't of
been solid—he'd have ended up on the floor.

"You…you did that?" Jason
said.

Joe nodded but continued
to look at the blue-marble counter. "Yeah. I did."

"I didn't know you could
do that."

"Neither did I. But
sometimes…I can."

There was a very long
pause, then…

You realize what you've
done.

He knew Mephistopheles'
voice, though he'd so rarely heard it inside of his own head.
"Yeah, I do." He sighed and straightened before he looked over at
Jason. The First Born was up front, making Jason's eyes black and
his features hawkish. Joe grabbed his gun and re-sheathed it in his
holster.

Up until now he'd remained
in the corner. A silent support for anyone who needed it. Yeah he'd
worked side-by-side with Rhonda and the others to rescue Dags.
Twice. But he'd never really exposed himself.

Till now.

"I just threw down the
gauntlet."

 

 

-8-

 

Nona walked a few steps
behind Rhonda as they made their way out of the kitchen to the
foyer and up the stairs to Rhonda's apartments. As she walked
Umayma appeared to her right, and Tel on her left. They flanked her
for protection. She didn't have to have either of them tell her
this. It was obvious. They didn't trust Rhonda at all.

At the door Rhonda turned
and seemed to notice the two Revenants for the first time. "They
can't come in."

"Yes they can, Rhonda.
Umayma is the best doctor we have in the House, and Tel is a good
friend of Dags."

"No."

Nona turned and started
back down the hall. Tel and Umayma followed.

Nona
, Frejya, Umayma's First Born, said in her mind.
We need to see him.

But Nona didn't answer.
There was no need.

"Wait!" Rhonda called out.
"Okay fine."

Ahh…well
played.

Nona stopped and pivoted.
She wasn't so far down the hall that she had to shout for Rhonda to
hear her. "I suggest you put that attitude of yours in your Veil,
Miss Orly. The Revenants are a part of this House, and a part of
our Society. Your over protectiveness with Dags is becoming a
detriment, not an asset." She didn't move. Just glared at the dark
haired woman.

Rhonda's jaw clenched but
she didn't say anything. She just nodded and opened the door to her
apartment. Nona, Umayma and Tel followed behind.

Nona, Rhonda and Dags had
their own apartments inside the house. Zoë had one too—but after
getting her own apartment near Joe she rarely used the one here.
Everyone decorated differently. Dags hadn't changed his much from
the Ikea he'd littered the place with, all of them pieces from the
apartment he once had over Stella Rosenberg's garage.

Nona's was made more of
antiques. Things she found in local stores or collected over the
years.

Rhonda's apartment looked
as if it'd been decorated by Ozzy Osbourne. Black or gray wells
presented a backdrop to a large, black-stained fireplace in the
living room, flanked by faux skull carvings on the mantle. Dozens
of pictures hung on the walls, tucked inside of frames she'd either
bought or made. Nona noted all of them were of Rhonda and
Dags.

The furniture looked as if
she'd robbed a props room in a Dracula movie. Gothic Heavy is what
Zoë called it once. She didn't like being in the apartments for
fear one of the stone gargoyles sitting on sconces in the corners
of the room would come to life and eat her head.

Moving through the B-grade
movie decor, Rhonda lead them to the right down a hall that
branched into a small kitchen—all stainless steel—a bathroom with
black tile—to her bedroom. Nona was surprised the little witch
hadn't changed much in this room. The carpet was still beige with
soft blue walls. The sleigh bed was still there, covered in a thick
downy divan. Clothing decorated the floor, dresser and
bureau.

Half burned and melted
candles littered every surface—much of the wax pooling on the
furniture and the floor. The room smelled of extinguished candle
and fried electrical wire.

The smell of
magic.

A sheet covered Dags a he
lay in bed. Sweat darkened his tee shirt over his chest and
underarms. His face and neck shined with moisture and he appeared
to be breathing heavy. Umayma immediately moved to his side and
placed a hand on his forehead.

"He's burning up. I'll
call Jason and get Daren into the infirmary."

"No." Rhonda's voice
wasn't loud but it was definitive.

Nona focused on the room
more than Dags. The candles, the smell, and something sticking out
from under the bed beneath where he lay. She touched Umayma's
shoulder to let her know she was bending down behind her and
reached out for it.

"What're you doing?"
Rhonda rushed forward to grab the object out of Nona's hand, but
Tel intercepted, grabbing Rhonda's wrist with lightning
speed.

Nona recognized it
immediately as one of the pages from the
Grimoire
. She had seen enough of
them when Maureen scattered the book several months ago. The page
was blank like the others had been, though Nona knew if the page
was placed near the book, whatever was written on it would appear.
What caught her attention was the hole ripped into the paper just
above the lower right corner.

She stood, holding it as
Jason and Joe came into the room. Tel had moved between Rhonda and
Nona.

"Is that—" Jason pointed
to the paper. "Oh Jesus—Rhonda what did you do? Is that why he's
sick?"

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