Soul Cage Read online

  "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?"

  "Jason," Umayma tugged at his jacket sleeve. "Get Darren out of here now."

  "Don't you dare touch him!" Rhonda yanked her wrist out of Tel's grasp and turned as if to strike Jason as he slipped past Umayma to get Dags out of the bed. But another hand grabbed her wrist.

  Joe's hand. "Rhonda—that's enough!" His fingers arc'd with a dazzling display of tiny lightening.

  Nona moved out of their way as Jason lifted Dags to his feet. He appeared dazed and a bit disoriented, which made sense if he had a high fever. But as he passed Nona his hand shot out and grabbed at the top of the paper.

  "NO!" Rhonda screamed.

  The paper instantly glowed bright gold the moment he clasped the top of it. Sparkling dust flowed up from the edges as a single hand written sentence flashed in front of her—

  It's me, Maureen.

  — and then vanished. It'd been meant for her eyes only.

  She looked over the page at Dags as he released the paper. His eyes were dulled and fevered. Whatever had just happened, he wasn't aware of it.

  Was it really…Maureen?

  "What is it? What happened?" Jason said as he held Dags up, standing between Nona and Rhonda who was struggling in Joe's hand. "Did the type show up? Can you read it?"

  "No one can read the Grimoire but me and Dags," Rhonda said in a soft voice.

  "Rhonda," Nona said in a very quiet voice. She was processing a lot of information. Most of it was jumbled and made no sense. A piece of the Grimoire was out of the book. It was torn. Dags was sick. And Maureen was somehow…here? "What were you doing to the Grimoire that made Dags sick? Why did you come into the kitchen and accuse Jason of hurting the Grimoire—" she held out her free hand as if to indicate a pause "—and not hurting Dags. You're more concerned over the book than him."

  "That is not true. I love Dags! And I wasn't doing anything. He was fine before Jason took him off to Little Five Points—like I really believe that's what they were doing. You all must think I'm a fool or something. You want to break us apart!"

  "No," Nona said. "Why would we as your friends want to destroy your happiness?" The double meaning to the question was clear.

  Rhonda's eyes filled with tears. "It's not fair…" she said in a hoarse voice. "The memories are gone—it was an accident—I told all of you what happened. He had a chance to go back to her—but he chose me."

  "He chose you because he still had memories of you," Nona said. "And none of Zoë. Or so you thought. But when he saw Zoë again," she nodded to Dags. "He did start to remember, didn't he? But he was remembering because of what you couldn't rewrite." She gently pulled the paper from Dags' grasp. "Is this you trying to rewrite Dags' thoughts again? Is it torn because he tried to fight you this time?"

  Rhonda's features hardened. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you."

  "No. I don't." She looked up at Jason. "Get him to the infirmary. Tel, you and Umayma go with him. Joe, we need to have a little talk with Rhonda."
r />   The others filed out of the room and closed the door.

  Joe released her hand and stood beside Nona. "What's wrong with you?" he asked in a surprisingly calm voice. "Where's the fun chick I used to date?"

  But Rhonda crossed her arms over her chest and glared. "When did you get so fucking powerful? You always had that kind juice in you, Halloran? Face it—the only reason you dated me was because it was the only way to get close to Zoë."

  "In case you forgot, sweetheart, Zoë was angry at you. How in the hell do you rationalize me getting close to Zoë will happen while I'm seeing her arch enemy?"

  Rhonda looked away.

  Nona sighed and lifted the page up in her right hand where it promptly vanished.

  Joe and Rhonda's jaws dropped. "How…" Joe said.

  "How did you learn that spell?" Rhonda said.

  "Disappointed you're not the only one who knows it? I've been in possession of that spell longer than you've been alive, Rhonda." Nona lowered her arm and brushed her hands together. "Now, what were you trying to do when you made him sick."

  "I didn't make him sick."

  "Okay, when he suddenly became ill?"

  But Rhonda didn't answer.

  Nona sighed. "I don't know you anymore, Rhonda. And I don't know why. It's my guess you were checking the Grimoire to make sure no one tampered with it—but something happened which culminated in either you ripping that page out, or that page flying out on its own. Or," and she tilted her head to her right shoulder. "Something inside pushed it out."

  All three of them were quiet for a few minutes, until Rhonda finally moved and sat on the edge of her bed. "It's all falling apart. Even when he can't remember her, he notices her," she said in a soft voice. "He talks about her even when he doesn't realize it. What does she like? Is she really seeing that bad cop? You think she likes old movies? Why is she always avoiding me?"

  "You can't erase every memory he has of Zoë, Rhonda," Nona said in a kind voice. "You run the risk of destroying memories of you as well."

  Rhonda looked away.

  Nona took in a deep breath as she turned to the door. Joe followed her. Once there she glanced back at Rhonda. "Rhonda Orly, as the CEO of the Ishmael Society, acting chairman and by the blade of Azriel's rage, I do hereby order you to stay in your rooms for the duration of Dags' illness."

  Rhonda was on her feet. "No I—"

  But Joe held up his hand. She stopped.

  "We don't have time to debate this, Rhonda. You've repeatedly gotten in other people's way when they tried to help. And now Manuel and Dags are in need of attention. Since you insist on preventing anyone from helping Dags besides yourself—though it is obvious you're not a doctor—I believe it's best you remain here. I'll have boggarts placed outside the doors, Rhonda. In case you planned on running or using magic." She turned to leave.

  "Will you tell me how he is?" Rhonda said.

  "Of course," Nona said. She opened the door and Joe closed it behind them. The door jerked out of his hands as it sealed. The air around the door shimmied and a strange looking and smelling vine grew out of the wall and wrapped itself around the door and frame.

  Joe stepped back. "Whoa…that is nasty."

  "It's a standard Boggart. It wants to hold everything still. So I let it do what it wants. It will obey us and not her."

  Joe reached out and touched one of the leaves. A bright green glow flashed on the leaf and traveled the length of the vine and spread out to every other leaf.

  "What did you just do?" she asked.

  "I just gave it a little energy, that's all. And...sort of put a spell on it so that if she tries to break out, I'll know?"

  She smiled at him and turned to walk down the hall and he followed.

  "Nona…"

  "Mmm?"

  "Remember that thing you had over your mantel? The statue?"

  She paused at the top of the stairs leading down to the foyer. "Which one? The Willendorf or the Stone Dragon?"

  "The Dragon. Where is it?"

  "I suppose it's still on my mantel. Why?"

  "Eh…mind if I head over to the house and take a look?"

  She patted his hand. "If you want to duck out for a while, it's okay by me."

  "Thanks, oh and Nona…" He smiled at her. "It's all going to be okay."

  Joe saying this pressed a weight down on her shoulders. He was a good witch, and he had so much potential. And…he was so optimistic. She didn't have the heart to tell him what the very near future would bring. Instead she opened her arms wide and he hugged her. He smelled of musk and sweat, and all things good. "Believe that for me. Just...keep believing."

  -9-

  Halfway down interstate 75, a familiar shape faded into the passenger seat. Joe turned the volume down on the radio. The sun moved behind a few dark clouds and the temperature had dropped again since the morning. "What is it, Phanty."

  Azrael sighed. "I really wish you wouldn't call me that."

  "I know."

  "Why do you want to find that stone dragon?"

  Joe glanced over at him. Azrael looked intensely curious. "Let's just say…I have a hunch."

  "How?"

  "Why are you grilling me?"

  "Because," and this time the Phantasm of the Abysmal Plane shifted in the passenger seat of the pickup. "I don't like it that I didn't know you were that powerful."

  Uh oh. Joe pursed his lips and looked back at the road. "You were in the kitchen."

  "I'm everywhere."

  "Oh don't give me that bullshit," he frowned. "You were little more than a fading First Born with an odd addiction to grapes and milk a few months ago. Now you're the Phantasm. Either way, that doesn't make you omniscient."

  "You like pissing me off."

  "No, I like you people not just showing up in my truck unannounced. So," he took the exit to 285. "Why are you in here grilling me."

  "I told you. I don't like not knowing things. And I had no idea you were that powerful. I don't think Nona knew either."

  "Well news flash. I'm not." Joe signaled he was moving in between cars. "And back page story—I didn't know I could do that till I did it."

  Azrael nodded slowly. "I see…so do you often take our own life into your hands?"

  "Every day I'm alive," he took the exit to 85 South. "Look, if you're just going to sit there and annoy me—"

  "Why do you need the stone dragon?"

  The dream came to mind—the one he'd had last night. The one he'd had for three nights. And when Tim said Rhonda had recently been in the shop in Little Five Points taking things—he didn't believe in coincidences. "I just…I see things sometimes. I can do a few spells, like Rhonda and Nona. Simple magic. I used it to help get Dags out of the old house."

  "I remember."

  True. Azrael had been there. "Right. So the bigger stuff is more like… " he sighed. "Well I know what I want to achieve and I sort of wish for the outcome and the means to get there just…happens."

  Azrael didn't say anything.

  "So when I was in the kitchen and Rhonda was PMSing—" he shrugged. "I wanted to stop her before she hurt Nona, or me. So when the answer came to me on what magic to use to stop her—I remembered a dream I had the other night of that damned dragon. I remembered the thing from when those two freaky disembodied spirits kidnapped Nona's soul and put it in the dragon before they put it in that puppet," he glanced at Azrael. "You know, before you showed up and took Nona out of it."

  "I'm not going to defend my previous actions. I had my reasons." He frowned. "And if I remember correctly—you kissed Zoë at that time."

  Joe's expression reflected his inner turmoil. And a bit of irritation. "What I did or didn't do with Zoë isn't a part of this—"

  "Sorry," the Phantasm said. "You're right. I'm just…a bit at a loss as to what's going on. Rhonda's not been herself. Her actions leading up to removing the Grimoire's memories," he leaned back. "Damn it Joe, it just isn't her."

  "I wouldn't say that." Joe exited off
Piedmont and then turned off toward Ansley Mall. "I dated her, remember. She's been obsessed with Dags since she met him. But he's always been fascinated with Zoë, and I seriously didn't think she'd ever give him the time of day. I didn't think she'd ever leave Daniel."

  "And if she did, she'd choose you?"

  Joe didn't answer.

  "Halloran—I'm going to need your help. As well as Nona, my sisters and brothers still living, and Zoë. We need to bring her and Daniel back from Canada."

  "Not yet. Let's exhaust everything before we interrupt them, okay?"

  "You're quiet an honorable man, Joseph Halloran."

  "Yeah…" he sighed. "A real fucking saint."

  Once they arrived at the shop in Little Five Points, Joe pulled the truck into the driveway. The place was locked up. Jemmy only opened it three times a week and sometimes on weekends with Nathaniel's help. He parked the car as Azrael vanished. Keys in his pocket, Joe held up his hand as he opened the ward so he could cross through. He grabbed the mail piled on the floor just inside the door and stepped in to the house. It smelled musty and there was a faint hint of incense. Tossing the stack on one of the tables, he hit the light switch and moved through the hanging mosaic fringe into the botanica part.

  It wasn't there.

  He stood in the center of the room and stared at the fireplace. Azrael appeared beside him. "Joe?"

  "It always sat up there, even after we got it back from the police. It was right there," he pointed to the mantle. "Nona said she believed it was there." He moved forward and put his hand in the spot. Cold. Not even the trace of the thing. "It's been gone a while."

  "The purpose of the dragon is to capture souls," Azrael said.

  Just like it had taken Nona's soul, and then Tim and Steve. Joe frowned as he looked away from the mantel. Zoë had freed the ghosts after she broke it—

  "Joe?"

  "Azrael—Zoë broke that dragon. I remember her doing it in the basement."

  The Phantasm crossed his arms over his chest. "You sure? I mean…that kiss probably drained all the blood from your big head…"

  "Fuck you, Phanty," Joe rubbed at his face. "How can this be possible—it was here long after that. In fact, I remember it being here when Daniel was possessed by the Horror. But…I saw it broken…"