Soul Cage Read online

  He set the glass on the nightstand. "I don't know—I didn't choose it. It sort of chose me."

  You realize who it was.

  "Yes. I do. That was Raziel—but from a long time ago. You'd known him before."

  He is family…in a sense. He was given birth by the Seraphim—though not in the same way my father created me. Raziel was made the same way Adiran Martinique was.

  "Human," Nick said. "But on the astral plane when their bodies were destroyed. And then their souls were touched by the Ethereal host, much like Zoë's spirit was touched by the Abysmal."

  Yes. But Raziel was much older. Older than I.

  "But Raziel is dead—Geist killed him." Jason rubbed at the back of his head. The physical wound may be gone, but he still had the ghost of a headache. "What host were you in when I saw that memory? You were in Savannah?"

  No. New Orleans, though the similarities are haunting, aren't they? Mephistopheles paused. I was bonded with Bethany back then. But Virtues and Revenants know one another on sight. He'd stepped across the street to talk.

  "But why did Jason see that memory now?"

  I don't know. As he said, Raziel is dead. Geist destroyed him. And, we have more pressing mysteries.

  "I agree. First, what happened to Manuel and Morgan, and secondly," Jason turned his attention to Dags. "How were you able to manifest the Guardian's sword and why did I see Maureen."

  Dags looked from Jason, to Nick, and back to Jason. "Who's Maureen?"

  •••

  Nona Martinique, Zoë's mom and CEO of the Society of Ishmael, great niece of the Society's Founder, Abraham Domas, pursed her lips in the mirror as she checked her lipstick. In one hour she had her first taped interview with a local reporter investigating the CCE and Tamera Moultrie, the snot-nosed little bitch that tried to crucify Nona, her shop, and the Society during the Virtue's little coup a month ago. Truth be told, they'd damn near won.

  And if it hadn't of been for Geist getting Zoë out of the Abysmal Plane and getting that last page so Rhonda could fix the Grimoire to access the magic again—they would have. Having Azrael as Phantasm had proven to be a boon as well, though she'd never thought of herself as one to be in line with what she affectionately referred to as the Shadow Court.

  This new reporter seemed very interested in sticking it to Moultrie. And so did Nona. That nasty little—oh the words that went through Nona's mind—was still out there badmouthing the occult elements in the city. The funny part was, with the still shaky economy, and the upcoming presidential race beginning next year, and all the posturing on the news—no one was paying attention to some little hick in the south talking about demons and angels.

  The new location was working out fine, as was the new hierarchy within the Society. Nona had been careful about selecting previous supporting members as well as people she trusted as Council Board representatives. Setting up the Council had been nail-biting, as so many feared what Rhonda Orly would do or what she was capable of since she was the only one with access to the Grimoire.

  But Nona learned if she left the little witch alone with her toy, Rhonda left Nona alone to run the business.

  Even if that toy was a twenty-nine year old man whom Rhonda had manipulated into loving her.

  Yes, Nona knew what'd happened. Did she condone it? No. Did she intend on letting it continue?

  That was hard to say. She adored Darren McConnell, and she knew he'd made her daughter very happy. But Darren was also dangerous—not just to them but to everyone. He held inside of him a book of biblical reputation in the magical community. Rhonda's possession of him did two things—it tamed the witch's infatuation with the boy which tempered her acquiescence in releasing control to Nona, and two, Rhonda's attentions kept Darren safe.

  And keeping Darren safe meant keeping the book safe.

  Would her daughter agree with her?

  No. Which is why she'd avoided talking to Zoë about it.

  Instead, she'd worked with Daniel in keeping Zoë occupied. Daniel was more than willing as he still had feelings for Zoë. Through the destruction of his soul after being possessed by Zoë's Horror, the experience hadn't dampened his affection for her.

  Rhonda came to Nona after Zoë's attack on her and asked that Zoë be removed to a remote location. She was dangerous and needed to be controlled. Nona had seen that for what it was—a ploy to get the Wraith as far away as possible. Why—Nona wasn't sure. Yes, Zoë had nearly choked her to death, but damn it, Rhonda deserved it after what she did.

  Geist had prevented it and then, unknown to Zoë, prevented Rhonda from seeking revenge. To keep the peace, Nona had asked Rhonda to present her case to the Council, and as she anticipated, the Council voted no.

  Zoë remained.

  Was this decision made because so many of them disapproved of what Rhonda had done—or whether they preferred having the Wraith close? In order to keep Rhonda fairly happy, she had paired Zoë with Daniel, and now the two were off on a week's vacation before starting work together.

  Zoë'd needed it—especially after having dealt with the Dominion with Manuel.

  Her phone buzzed against the dresser where it sat to her right. She glanced at the caller. It was Lucy Mullhaly, one of the nurses at the Society. They'd had to have their own infirmary built to treat the unconventional conventionals who possessed anomalies that might not fit in with the known practice of medicine. And since Lucy was herself a regular blood donor for their Revenants, she came highly trusted.

  Why was she calling?

  Nona placed the call on speaker as she answered. Nona was at her shop in Little Five Points, her newest helper, Nathaniel, downstairs with customers. "Hello Lucy."

  "Nona—there's a problem."

  Lucy never minced words. Nona picked the phone up and removed it from speaker. She put it to her ear and wondered if something had happened in Canada with Daniel and Zoë. Why else call her? "What is it?"

  "It's Manuel—" her voice was a bit panicked. "Umayma's in here with me and she's frantic. One of the data-entry kids we'd hired found him unconscious on the floor. We got him to the infirmary but—"

  Nona pushed the chair out. She had a special place for Manuel in her heart—not just because he was a little hottie but because his First Born had been Jason's lover once, in another host. And she would do anything to protect Jason and Mephistopheles. "Was he attacked? Can't Umayma speak to Morgan—"

  "That's just it," Lucy said and her voice broke. "She says Morgan's not there."

  Nona gasped. "What?"

  "Nona…she says Morgan's gone."

  -4-

  Nona called a little after noon just as Dags came down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of Nick's old clothes, since he'd gotten a lot of Jason's blood, as well as that of the Dominion's host when he cut off its head. Though of Ethereal essence, they still used human bodies to manifest on the Physical Plane. Jeans, socks, black hoodie and red tee-shirt. His hair was wet and dripped on the hood of the jacket as Jason grabbed the phone and motioned for Dags to come into his office.

  The room's original architectural intent might have been a greenhouse or arboretum evident in the floor to ceiling windows. Jason loved the sun and open spaces, and with the right tinting on the glass, Mephistopheles felt comfortable enough. The walls that weren't open to the elements were covered in books. Some were sealed behind glass doors with locks and expensive alarm systems.

  A few shelves displayed sculptures he'd picked up in Asia and Africa.

  Once Dags was seated on a black leather couch in the corner, Jason stepped outside the office to the terrace across the hall. He could see most of Buckhead, one of the trendier areas in Atlanta. Christmas decorations winked on and off from store windows, and the Story Teller was decked out with a wreath around his neck. The sky was monochromatic and he swore it looked like it might snow. It was chilly enough, but the longer he stayed bonded with Mephistopheles, the less he felt the cold. He remained in his suit and slippers. "Sorry
…had to switch rooms. Can you say that again, Nona?"

  "Damnit Jason—I know you heard me. And I know you have Dags with you. But you have got to bring him back here."

  "Are you nuts? Didn't you hear what happened? I saw him manifest the sword again. How did he do that when he can't even remember who Maureen is? Or Alice?"

  "It sounds to me like it was a fight or die response. The Familiars are there to protect him so he can protect the borders—and that's excluding that damned book. Guardianship is his first purpose. Not as some repository for Rhonda to dip in when ever she pleases."

  "Then why in the hell do you want me to bring him back?"

  "You said the last person to talk to Manuel was you. I mean Mephistopheles. And Manuel told Mephistopheles he did speak to her, right?"

  "Yeah. You think she attacked him? And if she did—then all the better to keep Dags away from her, right?"

  "She's insisting she hasn't even seen Manuel all day. She'd been in one of the vaults putting an artifact away when she discovered Dags wasn't on the grounds. Now she's threatening to call the police because his phone's going to voice mail." She sighed heavily. "Jason, we can't have this right now."

  "Look, Dags is fine. And I intend on finding out how after nearly two months he can suddenly pull that sword out."

  "Jason—get him home."

  "Once I have my answers I will."

  "Damnit boy—"

  "Watch over Manuel, Nona." He disconnected. The worry and fear in Nona's voice unnerved him. He'd known her a very long time. They'd been lovers once, much to Zoë's consternation. But his affection for her ran deep. He knew her.

  He also knew how truly powerful she was. Her uncle had known as well. Why else pair her up with one of his hand made Virtues but to create an Irin, the first in a long dead race.

  Jason felt old in that minute. Very, very old.

  You're not old. I'm old. You're just feeling my weight.

  "Then go on a diet, Old Man," Jason said aloud and went back into his office.

  Dags was still sitting on the couch, his hands at his sides. His eyes were closed and the expression on his face was confused. "Dags?"

  "I…I can hear her. She reacted when you said her name."

  "Who?"

  "Maureen."

  Jason stopped in front of him. "You can hear Maureen."

  "Yeah. I told you I was hearing voices. I just didn't know their names. Maureen." He opened his eyes. "And you knew her. You know her."

  "Yes. And I know Alice. Can you hear her too?"

  His eyes unfocused and he nodded slowly. "Yeah… it's actually better now that I know there are two distinct voices."

  "Yeah," Jason said and then moved around to sit on the oak coffee table in front of the couch. He faced Dags who opened his eyes. "Do you know who they are?"

  "Maureen keeps saying Familiars. But a Familiar is a cat, right?"

  He laughed. "In some places. Familiars are in essence someone or something bound to you to do your bidding. Alice and Maureen were bound to you through the tattoos on your palms to protect you."

  Dags held out his hands, palms up. There wasn't a mark on them. "What tattoos?"

  Great. Jason rubbed at his face. This might take longer than he intended.

  •••

  "…told you not to just blurt this stuff out, Alice!" Maureen crossed her arms over her chest and started pacing. She didn't go far though.

  The two of them stood outside the Grimoire in Dags' subconscious. The book and its ancient script lay propped up against an invisible mountain on the shores of a beach in front of a setting sun. But that sun had been setting for an eternity, and Maureen was ready for it to either get back up or disappear. This non-changing was just…intolerable.

  The book itself looked as if the spine had caught either in opening, or closing. The pages were available, the spells exposed. The book had been doing this off and on ever since the two Familiars discovered they were trapped inside of Dags with no portals to step out of. The ones on his palms were gone. No longer visible on either side. Somehow, the witch had trapped them.

  Maureen had waited patiently, watching when the book opened. Light spilled out of it, golden and swirling with tiny sparks like fireflies. Hell, as far as she knew it might even be freak'n fairies whizzing around.

  She made notes of how often it opened and when. Times. Dates. All of it she etched in the sand of the beach on a shore where the tide never moved. Near a campfire that never went out.

  And then finally…on a day she'd calculated the book would open and it did, Maureen did what Alice first said was the stupidest thing she'd ever done—aside from killing Revenants. She waited until the pages stopped flipping and then started turning them herself.

  She'd called out to Alice to help her, and eventually Alice showed up. Even Geist appeared to help them move the pages faster, though his visit was quick. And when they had the right page and felt the beach tremble, Maureen held up a rock she'd sharpened and tore a hole in that page.

  When the hole was made, the book went dark.

  But it didn't close. It remained half open. Like it was now. And through that hole she and Alice had learned they could hear the outside world around Dags as well as make their voices heard to him, even if he didn't know who they were. Through that hole they could manifest some of their power.

  Through that tear, they'd managed to give him the sword to protect himself as well as Jason.

  And now…now Jason was starting to suspect and wanted answers.

  "You got a better idea?" Alice said from where she'd sat down on the sand by the book's back cover. "Jason's not getting it."

  "Then we need to find a way we can speak through Dags and explain what we need them to do. Get back upstairs into that little theater so we can be in control. 'Cause I'm certainly not going to wait till that twat-waffle steals every single spell out of this book and then destroys it."

  "You really believe that's what Rhonda will do?" Alice's disbelief was getting on her nerves. "She's always been an admirable witch—"

  "Admirable? This," and she held out her hands. "Is admirable? Trapping us here? Tinkering with Dags' memories? Hell he can't even remember me!" She pointed to her chest. "And we had a good time together. He figured out how I died—and he risked his life to know that. We were close. Now he's just…clueless."

  "No. It's like you said, he's been tinkered with. And we have to help. Shhh. Now listen."

  Maureen huffed. She didn't want to listen. But that was why they were hovering by the tear. It was visible on the lower right hand side of the page. It was blank inside, but if they were quiet, they could hear.

  "…like rumors around a water cooler," Dags was saying. "I mean, like I told you, I listened at first. But I keep seeing all these scenes in my head. And I'm with Zoë. Why would I be with her? Rhonda says she's never given me the time of day. She's too busy to bother with me."

  "I'm going to strangle that bitch," Maureen said.

  "Sshh," Alice hissed and waved at her before she leaned into the tear again.

  "Zoë loves you, Dags. And she's had to put up with what Rhonda's done."

  "But if that were true—why is she always with Daniel?" He sighed. "That guy gives me the creeps."

  "He's a Revenant."

  "Yeah well so are you, but you don't make me feel like a side of beef, drain the blood for a snack."

  Jason laughed. "Daniel's young. He'll get used to it. But Dags you've got to—"

  A ring tone sounded.

  "Why is she calling so much?" Dags asked.

  The ringing stopped. "Nona—look you've got to let me…uh….say what?" A long pause and Maureen cursed again silently at the fact she couldn't hear Nona. "But this might be our only chance."

  "Sounds like she wants him back at the House," Alice said as she relaxed back on the book's edge. "I can't blame her. If Rhonda's watching him, he'd be safe. And no one would dare take the book."

  "Alice…" Maureen shoved both o
f her hands into the sand. An idea popped up. But…would it work? "You think we can go through that hole? Not now," because in truth she'd already tried. But there seemed to be something stopping her. Something invisible.

  Alice leaned out and looked up at the dark book. "If it were opened again, then I'd be willing to give it a try."

  "I think…if he goes back to her…the first thing she's going to do is try to open this book." She grinned. "Because you know she'll want to find out if anyone tampered with it."

  A sly smile pulled at Alice's lips. "I think you're right. That's the first thing she's going to do. And when she does—"

  "We slip inside that tear. See what happens."

  "What if something bad happens?"

  Maureen shrugged. "You wanna keep playing at our own version of Lost? I sure as hell don't. So let's make sure he goes back."

  •••

  Jason was about to hang up on Nona again when Dags abruptly stood up. "I think Nona's right. I think I should go back."

  "Dags—you sure you want to do that?"

  "Look," he held out his hands. "It's Rhonda. I trust her. I mean, I love her. So if we stay on the House grounds then everything should be okay. And then maybe I can talk to her about not being so protective. There's no need to get the whole Society in an uproar if I want to spend some time with a friend." He winked. "Right? I wanted to buy my girl a little present."

  Jason stared at the kid.

  Did he just wink?

  Yeah…he did. It was creepy.

  I don't like this.

  Neither do I. But I'm not going to tie him up and lock him in a room either. We've learned a lot. We need to look for Morgan. Anyone got hold of Azrael?

  I've been trying. But he's been very busy.

  Keep trying.

  Mephistopheles didn't respond. Jason stared at Dags as he spoke into the phone. "Yeah Nona? We'll be home right after Dags and I do a little shopping." He closed the phone. "Are you thinking that if we buy some things, then it might soften her mood?"