Authors: Phaedra Weldon
Geist (30 page)
I loved this time of year. It reminded me of...
"Hey, you need to get more glasses," Daniel said from the kitchen. The place was basically furnished with boxes. Most of my stuff had been in storage when I'd sold my condo while mom had been in Miller Oaks. My furniture—what I hadn't sold—was in the main room. It wasn't as big a place as before, but I liked it.
It was mine.
Tel came through the door with two bags of groceries. Behind him was Joe. Two Revenants, a human and a Wraith. What a combo. I kept expecting to see TC come through there. I'd even had Joe pick up grapes.
I hadn't heard from him or from Geist since that scene in the basement of the Society's compound. Rhonda hadn't pressed charges with the Society or made any fuss. We never spoke.
Tamera Moultrie was still on the news, and was under fire from the associated press about her methods of reporting. Joe still turned the television on now and then and watched her, insisting he knew her face. The CCE had vanished from public view, but he was keeping tabs on her. I don't know why though. He seemed to be as obsessed with her as TC had been.
Murders were still happening like the ones back in October. Joe had been busy with those. More humans carved up with symbols. He no longer believed they had anything to do with the Virtues and Powers. Just another copy cat killer the police needed to find. I'd been thinking of going after them myself. Just to get some practice in.
Tel started unpacking the groceries. "I think I got everything on the list. Except them tampons. I am not buying the girlie stuff."
He made me smile. A lot. He wasn't a big guy—and he wasn't beautiful—but he had a rock star quality about him. The metal all over his face didn't help. When he wanted to, he could clean up real pretty. Why he'd latched on to me? No clue.
Joe set a six pack of Rolling Rock on the counter and unpacked the bag he'd been carrying. It was full of meats he'd picked up at H-Mart. He set a few of the steaks aside and suggested he fix potatoes, corn and then ice cream for dessert. He thought a movie night would be fun.
I did too. I called mom and invited her just in case she didn't have anything to do.
Tel moved enough boxes out of the way to make the place walkable. After about an hour we had a good spread on the bar. Joe started the movie and we fixed our plates to eat. I hadn't realized Tel was a newer host—though not as new as Daniel. He was younger than Jason though. So eating with the two of them was still a wondrous experience. Loki and Inanna seemed very happy and taken with caffeine. I set up the one-shot coffee maker and opened a box of the little assorted cups.
The doorbell rang and I yelled out. "Got it."
I opened it, expecting my mom.
I didn't expect to see Dags.
I looked past him expecting to see Rhonda, relishing the opportunity to kick her out on her ass. But she wasn't there.
"Hi Zoë," Dags said. "Nona said you were having a movie party? I just got back from Florida and I wanted to check up and see how you were doing."
I hadn't seen him since that night in the room.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Daniel was beside me, his arm on my shoulder. His voice was pleasant. "Hi Dags. You just caught Zoë by surprise. We thought you were still out of town." He moved me back and allowed the man to come in.
Dags was beautiful. His hair had grown out a bit past his shoulders. His eyes were clear and gray. He was the healthiest I'd seen him since we'd met. A year ago. In December. He'd left a message about a ghost in the place he worked. And Rhonda had accepted the job.
The guy in the bathroom with his pants down.
"You okay?" he said and looked at me. He reached out to touch my arm and I pulled away.
"She's just tired. Why don't you head to the kitchen and grab a plate. Just grilled some steaks, got peppered potatoes and corn."
"Come with me," Daniel took me by the hand and led me past the living room to the terrace. He closed the sliding glass doors and put an arm around me as I shivered against him. "Okay...let it out here. Where he can't see."
And I did. I thought I was done with crying.
But all I could think in my head was why...why had this happened? How could anyone do that to another human being? Especially a friend?
Daniel held me close. He kissed the top of my head. "I know it doesn't mean as much Zoë. But I love you. And I'm here for you. So is Joe, if you need him."
I sniffled and knew I had the ugly cry face on. But with Daniel, I didn't care. "I know Daniel. And I do love you. It's just...why is he here? How can he do this to me?"
"Because he doesn't know, Zoë. As far as he remembers, you and he are good friends. You've worked together. Him showing up—and without Rhonda I might add—is a nice show of support for you."
"But it just fucking hurts," and there they were. Those damn hiccups I always got when I cried really hard. You know, the ugly cry.
"Sshh. I know. And it's okay." He laughed softly. "It's just that sometimes I think I got the better end of things...since the Horror."
That was an odd thing to say. I leaned back and looked at him. "Why do you say that?"
"Because I have Inanna. She's always with me. She's someone I can talk to. Someone that has the experience needed from her hosts that I can pull from. But you..." he looked at me. "You have just yourself, Zoë. And I worry about that."
He was such a good man.
And I didn't deserve him.
I leaned in close to him though and he held me. I was shivering again. We were on the tenth floor and the wind was picking up. Rain was close by. But I didn't want to go in yet. So we stood there for a while.
"You know...when you're ready to go to work, I'd like to be your partner."
"I'd like to put that off for a while. Take a little time. I have four months to catch up on."
"I agree, so," and he pulled back and put his hands on my shoulders. "So I've booked us a train and lodging up in Montreal."
Oh wait what? I opened my mouth in shock. "You what?"
"Purely friendship. Just us on a train and some time in some real snow. No Society. No commitments. Just us. What do you say?"
I heard laughter inside and looked through the glass to see them all together around the flat screen. Dags was on the couch next to Tel.
"When do we leave?"
"Whenever you want."
Now. I want out of here.
Now.
My butt buzzed. I pulled back and retrieved the phone from my pocket. I had mail—which seemed odd since I'd just set the account up.
I thumbed the little envelope on the touch screen to see who it was from—
"Zoë? What's wrong?"
I stared at the from field. "I got a mystery email. There's no subject. And no address."
"It's probably a virus. Just delete it."
Well...me and curiosity. I opened it.
Dear Miss Martinique,
It is nice to see you well and in the Physical Plane once again. We wish you happiness and success in your new life within the Society of Ishmael.
We do hope your association with them will not interfere in our working relationship, and so to welcome you back ourselves, we have a very interesting job for you.
And as payment we will forego the normal sum of currency and offer you something of even greater value. Something close to your heart.
We will be in touch.
Maharba
About the Author...
Phaedra Weldon is a writer and mother of one. Born in Pensacola, Florida, Phaedra was raised in the lush, green southern tropic of Georgia. She grew up on southern ghost stories told while eating marshmallows around campfires, or on the back of pick-up trucks in the middle of cornfields on chilly October nights. She worked as a Graphic Artist for over twenty years in the publishing and sign industries until she became a full time writer in 2009. Phaedra currently lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and daughter.
Copyright
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
A Caldwell Press Publication.
This work and everything in it is the sole property of Phaedra M. Weldon. Any copying or reprinting will be prosecuted to the furthest extent of the law.
Author's Websites
If you liked this story, and would enjoy reading more, drop the author a note at [email protected]
Other books by Phaedra Weldon
Revenants Novels
Grimoire Chronicles
Back Door Series
Back Door Myth (
coming soon
)
Zoë Martinique Investigations
Geist
Siobhan & Abyssinian
-NATIVE SOIL EXCERPT-
REVENANTS NOVEL
New York, 1931
Jason
She hadn't come to listen to his set. Bethany always came to his piano playing—had come for the past three months since they started going steady. Her absence worried him. One of the local uniforms was outside, and Jason stepped out for a smoke.
"Sorry Jay," the uniform said. He'd bummed a smoke from the piano player. "Haven't seen her. Maybe she got hung up on something?"
"Maybe," Jason agreed. But that wasn't like her. Bethany loved him. She never left him. She was always there.
With a glance up at the night sky, he sniffed and smelled rain. More rain. The darkened streets were already puddled with it from the morning. Rain the day before. It seemed to always be raining. Bethany disliked the rain. Said it made her sad. Was it possible she was sad and needed time to herself?
"You awright, Jay?"
"Yeah, yeah." He tossed the half smoked cigarette on the ground and stomped at it.
The Mirage Lounge
sat inside one of the old warehouses along the docks. The view wasn't the best—just stacks of old rotting, wooden boxes. A shack to the right, and below a worn out dock sitting on the water. The fog was so thick he couldn't see Jersey across the Hudson.
Usually he'd meet Bethany in Chelsea Park after the set. But she hadn't sent him a note. No message. Something was wrong. He
knew
it. Felt it in his gut. He could have sworn she was nearby...
He nodded to the uniform. "Hey O'Hearn, I'm gonna take a walk down there. Tell the boss if he comes look'n for me?"
"Sure thing, kid," O'Hearn said. "Hey, got another smoke?"
Jason gave him all he had, shoved his hands into his pockets, and moved across the tracks to the dock. Sometimes the water calmed him. The lap of it against the shore. He moved to the very edge and looked out at the river. He was dressed lightly in a white shirt and gray trousers. They were expensive—Bethany had bought them for him. Told him he should be preforming in style. She always told him he was talented. That he could go places. And would go places.
Noises to his left disturbed his thoughts as he turned. Voices. One of them sounded like a woman's.
He caught the whiff of Jasmine on the air.
That was Bethany's perfume!
Taking off at a sprint, Jason moved through the cargo boxes, some small some large until he found a space between them. She was on her back, her hands over her head. A man in dark clothing, dark gloves and fedora knelt over her. He jumped off of Bethany as Jason appeared and the two faced each other.
Jason couldn't get a clear view of the man in the half-darkness. He yelled out as he charged him and realized too late the stranger had a knife. The blade bit his shoulder and Jason yelled out as he twisted and slammed his elbow into the side of the man's head. The attacker made a noise and fell back. Jason also moved back and clutched his bleeding arm.
"Jason..." came Bethany's voice in the dark. "Run...
please
.."
The stranger came at him again before he could move far enough away. Jason had to somehow incapacitate him without getting stabbed. He ducked, side-stepped and slipped past the new attacks. He did manage to get just past the man's shoulder and deliver another blow, but he forgot about the knife and felt it sink deep into his thigh.
Jason's leg collapsed underneath him as the attacker kicked him once in the side before he disappeared. Jason heard and felt the stomp on the wooden dock as the stranger ran away.
Damn. He reached down to his thigh—and felt the blood. There was too much blood.
Oh God...he's hit something important
. He grew lightheaded and collapsed backward for a second, staring up at the dark sky. No moon. Never a moon.
I'm dying
. He knew this. Could feel it. He gripped his thigh but couldn't stop the blood. It poured over his fingers. Jason called out...hoped to get O'Hearn's attention.