“You know you could always blast him,” came a voice beside me.
I knew it was TC, but he still startled me. I smacked the side of my head against the wall I was near, then glanced over at him, cowering in the doorway with me. Though, honestly, he was way too big to cower. “I’m not gonna blast him.”
“That’s book boy.”
“Yeah.”
“Who’s the squeeze?” He smirked. “I noticed it’s not you.”
I shoved at him and was a little surprised when my shoulder made contact. “Why are you here?”
“Got a bit on that thing we saw the other night.”
“That hair monster?”
He grinned at me beneath the shades. “Yeah . . . the hair monster. Anyway, apparently it’s been hiring, then killing Fetches and Daemons all over the city.”
I made a face. “Hiring? You mean like paying them?”
“Well, pay for one of those things is more like offering up a blood sacrifice. Or a fresh heart.”
Ew. I shook my head. “I’m not that concerned about the currency, but the fact is it’s hiring. Not creating. I thought those things were created.”
His grin turned sly. “You see my point. Whatever it is, it’s either
choosing
not to make a Fetch or a Daemon, or it
can’t
. And if it can’t, then it’s not wholly Abysmal.”
“And second, what’s it hiring them to do?” I looked at him. “Did you find that out?”
His grin vanished. “Still working on that.” He looked over at the other table as they happily dug into pizza. “Let me give you a word of advice,” he said, but kept his shaded gaze focused on the table. “Revenants are only out for one thing. Survival. You think you did a good thing today?” He looked at me. “Releasing Aether?”
I shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, if I hadn’t done it, then they’d both be trapped inside that body forever.”
“Naw.” He shook his head. “That’s not true. Revenants can hop bodies, abandon them if they want. Of course, after using a body far past its expiration date, things can be quite ugly when they leave it.”
Oh God. I made a horrific face. “They do that?”
“Some do. Luv, not all Revenants are like Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor over there. Some are downright insane. Just like the human race, you got your bad apples.”
“Like you?”
“Me?” He grinned. “I’m a one of a kind, thanks to you, luv. But”—he held up a finger—“remember what I said. Trust no one. Something is spiraling in on Atlanta—otherwise why start taking out all the Revenants. There aren’t that many left.”
I glanced over at Dags and the chick. They were ordering now. And he hadn’t even noticed I was there. And I remembered the conversation from earlier with the others. “You think maybe whatever is coming is coming for me? Or you?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure what’s up. I just know if whatever it is finds that spell, I’m ganking it on the spot, then I’m gonna do me a bit of magic myself.”
And he was gone.
“Zoë?”
I nearly came out of my body, literally, at the sound of my name. I turned and stood from my cower and found myself face-to-face with a pair of incredulous gray eyes. Immediately, I had images of two bodies, arm in arm, in front of a fire . . . touching, needing, wanting . . .
“You okay?”
I blinked. “Y-yeah. Sure. I’m great.” I then noticed that the redhead was behind him. “Who’s the chi—your friend?”
“Oh.” He moved out of the way so I could get a better look at the competit—uh, I mean girl. Woman. Person.
GAH.
“This is Stella Rosenburg. She’s my landlady.”
Landlady?
Stella offered me her hand and had a grip to rival Superman’s. “I’m so happy to meet you. Darren talks about you all the time. In fact, so much that me and the girls feel like we know you.”
The girls?
I guess my expression repeated my thoughts because Stella stepped in close, and whispered, “The Familiars,” in a conspiratorial fashion.
I nodded slowly and smiled as she pulled back. Dags was watching me, his eyes bright. In fact, he didn’t look like anyone who hadn’t been getting a good night’s sleep. Maybe not dreaming was a good thing?
I know I’d be a lot happier some nights if I didn’t dream.
Dags put a hand on Stella’s back. “Zoë, you look good. Better than the last time I saw you.”
I stood up straight and looked at him. “So do you—seeing as how the last time I actually saw you it was in ICU.”
Dags had been with me and Joe and TC on that roof. He’d been thrown around like a rag doll by TC, and later wound up on life support at Piedmont. And then, one day, he’d gotten up and walked out. Mom had said he was fine and out of Georgia.
“Yeah . . . well . . .” He shrugged. “Rest time was over. So.” He looked around and noticed the table in the corner. “I see the gang’s here. And you’ve got a Revenant with you.”
“You
know
about them?”
He nodded. “The Grimoire’s got all sorts of information in it. And oddly enough, bits leak out now and then, and I know things.”
Okay—I have never been told I was terribly bright. Nor have I ever tried to be. But sometimes there is a glow, a spark of OMG that comes to me when I get an idea that makes me feel all good inside. “Dags,” I reached out to put my hand on his shoulder. When he pulled away—I forgot what I was going to say.
We stood there looking at one another. Just inches apart, but somehow it felt like a lifetime.
Okay. That was hokey. Even for me.
But . . . it was true.
He swallowed and looked away first. “I—I’ve been busy. You?”
I nodded. I watched his eyes—so gray they resembled polished metal at times. There was no denying Dags was one of the prettiest men I’d known. The fact he was compact made him all the more adorable. Yet, every time I tried to remember that evening by the fire, and enjoy it, I’d see Daniel’s hard expression when he’d walked in on us.
And then I’d see his body riddled with holes. I’d thought he’d died.
I nearly did.
But he didn’t.
And now he was insane.
“What were you going to say?” Dags spoke up.
I blinked, refocusing on his face. “I—the Grimoire. Does it have really old spells?”
He arched his dark eyebrows. “Yeah.”
“I mean like really, really old spells.”
He nodded again. “Yeah.”
“I’m talking beginning-of-time old spells.”
This time he gave me a warning look. “What are you getting at?”
I reached and grabbed him whether he flinched or not, looked at the tall redhead, said “’Scuse us,” and pulled him to the table. Once there, all eyes turned to us—especially Rhonda’s and Jason’s—but for different reasons.
Dags pulled his arm away and nodded. Gave a little wave. “Hi, all.” He turned to Jason and offered his hand. “Dags McConnell. I’ve never met a Revenant before.”
Jason returned the handshake and offered Dags a seat beside him, where I had been sitting. “And I’ve never met a living book before. Please, sit. And bring your lovely companion.”
Before I or Rhonda could protest, Dags turned and motioned Stella over. She nodded, grabbed their drinks, and sat down on the other side of Dags. Leaving me with no room on the bench.
Whoopee.
I shoved Rhonda over into Joe and put on a smile I was not feeling. Again introductions were made to bring Stella, Jason, and Joe up to speed.
“So,” Rhonda said, with her elbows on the table. The pizza was suddenly forgotten. Oh, except by Joe, whose conversational skills of late were definitely negated. “Why haven’t you returned my phone calls?”
Dags’s eyes widened. “You called me?”
“Yes.” She glared.
I glared too. I’d called him, and he hadn’t answered me either.
“But I haven’t gotten—”
And then Stella the bella raised her hand. “I’m afraid that’s my fault.”
We all glared at her. Except Joe. And Jason. I noticed he was kinda leering. Was he hungry for something besides pizza?
“How is it your fault?” Dags asked.
“I blocked the calls,” she said. “You were so tired and needed the downtime once we got here. And those two numbers just kept showing up. So while you were resting, I took your personal cell and blocked the numbers on it. So you weren’t showing the calls.”
My mouth opened into an O.
“Those
two
numbers?” Dags frowned. “I’m sure Rhonda called—since I was working for her. But who else called?”
I didn’t raise my hand.
Stella shrugged. “Dunno. That number wasn’t as persistent. But”—she smiled—“Alice and Maureen both thought it was a good idea.”
I remembered why I brought him over. Man, the memory’s got like a ten-minute time delay lately. Need to check on that. “Oh, wait. Rhonda—the Grimoire in Dags. Do you think it could possibly have the spell in it?”
Everybody sat forward, and I was amazed that no one else had thought of it. Well, except for Lex.
“It’d have to be a really old book,” Jason said as he narrowed his eyes at Dags, focusing on his middle. “I can sense it, but I can’t see it. How do you see it?” He directed that question to Dags.
“Well, I more or less just know it’s there. There’s a constant warmth from it, not unlike the warmth I get from Alice and Maureen.”
I thought we were gonna have to explain the girls, but Jason only nodded. “Yeah . . . I’ve heard about them. The Familiars. You do realize that it’s been nearly a hundred years since a Guardian had Familiars? Hell, it’s been that long since there’s been a Guardian.”
Dags nodded. “I’m learning it. Slowly. The book itself helps and lets me take a peek at something inside now and then.”
Does it have like a table of contents?
Joe bit into some pizza.
I relayed the question.
Dags grinned. “I heard him, Zoë. And I think I have an answer for him.” He leaned forward across the table, his right hand out, palm up. We all leaned in to see a set of concentric circles forming in a white-blue light. I’d seen them before. A circle in a circle in a circle. But they were different now—the edges of the circles bordered with symbols that looked a lot like—
“Hey, aren’t those like the ones on the bodies?” Joe said.
“The symbols themselves are universal in arcane magic,” Jason said. “Just about every magician—ceremonial or otherwise—uses them to—”
It was about that time we all stared at Joe.
And he was staring back, a slice of pizza in his hand, held up to his mouth. He blinked and lowered the pizza to the table. “You all heard that.”
We nodded slowly.
Mother Guppy!
Rhonda looked at Dags, her eyes wide, but then narrowed in an accusatory fashion. “How? I’ve been trying to restore his voice for over a month. And you do it in a second? With a glowing, spinny light show.”
Wow, that sounded like I said it. Though I would have said glowing, spinny light show
thingie
. All thingies are fiendish.
And I was watching his open palm. The circles were still spinning, only in the center were triangles, moving through and around each other. Wow, if it got any brighter, he’d have to douse that.
“I found the spell while doing something else,” Dags said as he watched his palm. “About a week or so ago. Couldn’t wait to get back here and show you.”
But Joe wasn’t paying attention. He was clearing his throat through a whole bunch of “memememememes” and “aahhhhhhs.” I laughed at him as he stood up and started reciting Hamlet’s soliloquy, then launched into Princess Leia’s message to Obi-wan.
Man . . . what a geek.
Rhonda jumped up and hugged him. He hugged her back and sat down with the coolest grin on his face. I hadn’t noticed that he’d not been smiling lately, and who could blame him? After losing his voice, he’d lost his partner to madness, and had his friend and boss killed. Wow.
He pointed at Dags. “You—I’m not gonna hug. Too manly for that.”
“I’m not really done yet,” Dags said, as the circles spun faster.
Stella looked behind her to make sure no one was looking, but as a civilian in all this, she didn’t seem to mind. It was like she’d seen it before. Jason sat forward, his face darkening, and I realized Mephistopheles was present and watching. Carefully.
Abruptly, the circles vanished with a sparkle of light, and our ears popped.
Sticking his pinky in his ear and wiggling it, Joe said. “WTF?”
“Oh, I made sure it couldn’t be taken again,” Dags said as he started wringing his hand as if to get something yucky off of it. “Voices carry power in the planes. Not all creatures have them. Hence the Archer stole Zoë’s, then Joe’s.”
“Well, in truth, Archer has a voice.” Jason as Mephistopheles spoke up, enhancing the echo I heard in Jason’s voice. “The Phantasm simply took it.”
I blinked. “So he’s not gonna have a voice anymore?” Oh, I will so get into trouble for that. And the bastard will come after Dags.
“Unfortunately, he will. What I just did—because they were linked like that—gave TC back his voice as well.”
Shit.
“You saw that spell and recited it?” Jason/Mephistopheles asked. Echo.
“No,” Dags said, and looked at the man to his right. “Spells like those can’t be memorized. Safety precaution built in. They’re written.”
So TC had been truthful in that.
“Then . . . how?”
Dags sighed. “Well, I see them in my mind. See the written spell. And then I just know it. It doesn’t last long. Like, that spell I just used? I’d have to call it back up again. I can’t remember a word of it. The Grimoire is full of them.”
Joe took a sip of Coke. “Okay, then, what I said earlier. Is there a table of contents? And hopefully everything’s laid out as per simple, basic, really hard, and arcane?” He grinned and looked at us. “I love to hear my voice.”
We know. Oy.
Dags shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. It’s more of an intuitive thing. They come when I don’t call them.” He held up a finger. “If I don’t know them. Now, the voice one came up the other day when I was looking for something else. Cross wires. So I remembered it and could recall it.” He closed his eyes and rested his elbows on the table. Dags rubbed his forehead.