“You need to lie down,” Stella said. “It takes a lot out of you. Especially with—”
Dags looked at her and shook his head.
I waved at him. “What?”
“It’s—I ran into a little problem on the last thing Rhonda sent me after.”
Rhonda started to get up. “Then we have to talk—in private.”
Dags held up his hand. “No secrets, Rhonda. I need help. And it might mean we put our brains together. You’re not calling the shots on this.”
Whoa.
I don’t ever remember him talking to Rhonda like that. Hell, I couldn’t remember him talking to anyone like that. I looked at her, and it was evident she was just as shocked. I also knew his tone wasn’t going to sit well with her. “Excuse me? I’m your employer. I call the shots on everything.”
“Not this time.”
“Mr. McConnell, did you procure the item?”
He sighed. “Yeah, I procured it. The problem is I’m not sure how to unprocure it.”
“I don’t think that’s a word,” I said.
Rhonda glared.
Sheesh. And they call me scary.
Jason held up a hand at Rhonda, silencing her next outburst before it started. “Dags—what happened?”
He stood then and looked at Stella. She looked worried and nodded. With a glance around, he started to unbutton his shirt.
Joe choked and held up his hands. “Hey, dude. Not while we’re eating. We can’t—”
He never finished it.
But it didn’t matter. What stopped him stopped all of us. With wide-open eyes and mouths, we stood en masse and stared at Dags.
I think I’ve mentioned before that Mr. McConnell has a most beautiful chest. Short, compact, well proportioned, and an incredible girdle that just begs touching.
All of that was still there. But what marred that beautiful scene was—well—what looked like the corner of an old, brown leather book, sticking out of the center of his chest.
Joe sighed. “Well, that’s not something you see every day.”
17
“
IS
your . . .” Rhonda started and stopped. She was staring at it with ill-contained horror. “Is it the Grimoire?”
Grimoire, hell.
I pointed at it. “You’re walking around with a book sticking out of your chest, and you’re here getting pizza?”
Oh, come on. You were thinking it too.
“He’s starving,” Stella said in a soft voice, and pulled at Dags’s arm so he’d lower his shirt. He then sat down as we all did. “He hasn’t been able to eat in two days.”
Once again, I say, he looked good to me. Might be starving. But looked good.
“Stella”—he gave her a sideways smirk before looking at us—“it’s not all that bad. I’ve been able to eat soft foods. But nothing that needs a lot of digestion.”
“You didn’t answer me. Is the Grimoire coming out?”
He tilted his head to the right side. “You held on to that book for weeks, and you can’t see this is not it?”
Touché. I snapped my fingers. “The thing you needed to unprocure.”
“What exactly happened?” Jason asked. He reached over and grabbed a slice of his pizza from the wire frame. “I for one am starving as well and wish to hear this tale. It’s one thing to be told someone lives with a book fused to his soul—but to actually see it sticking out? Quite . . . entertaining.”
“I know.” Dags winced. And for the first time I did notice the dark circles under his eyes. The gaunt look of his cheeks. On second thought, he didn’t look
that
great. Was he casting a glamour spell? “As to how or why it happened, I don’t know. I will say the book was right where Rhonda said it would be. But when I touched it—” He looked down.
“Just touching it did
that
?” Rhonda leaned over the table and pizzas to pull at his shirt again. He hadn’t buttoned it up yet. I was getting an appetite, but not for garlic and cheese.
Dags nodded. “Once I got into the old theater, I could actually sense it. And it wasn’t like most things that have magical ability—it was a little stronger. It didn’t call or make itself known. More like”—he shook his head—“it had power and
knew
it did. It was content to just
be
.”
Now, I’m not sure about anyone else, but that made no sense to me. I nodded as if I was, like, smart but grabbed a slice of pizza to alleviate boredom. I think only Rhonda understood most of it since he was out doing her bidding. And besides, of all the oogy things I’d seen in the past seven months—the book sticking out of his chest had to top them all. And it wasn’t like an axe protruding, or even a knife. The skin around the book wasn’t bloody or anything. It was . . . kinda like it’d
grown
there.
Dags shrugged. “Alice and Maureen checked it out first, and neither of them sensed anything. I said the incantation like you specified, reached out, and touched the book. There was a very bright flash of light. Alice and Maureen shouted. I woke up on the floor, no sign of the two of them, and realized I had this poking out of my chest.”
“Does it hurt?” Joe asked. Simple. Like a six-year-old.
“I know it’s there.” He sighed. “And like I said, it’s sort of interfering with digestion. I haven’t been able to call on the girls since. I’m not sure if the book is hindering them or me.”
“How did you get past airport security with that sticking out?” I blurted.
“A book doesn’t register on a metal detector. And this thing is so old, there aren’t any metallic pieces. From what I can tell, it’s all handwoven, handcrafted. I don’t know if what happened is a protection mechanism.” He looked down at his chest and moved the shirt again. “And honestly, I don’t think regular people can see it—people who haven’t been touched by the Abysmal or don’t have some other wacky ability going for them.”
Stella raised her hand. “That would be me.”
Rhonda frowned at her. “You can’t see it?”
Stella shook her head.
Weird.
Rhonda said, “But Nona needs to take a look at it. Maybe she’s seen something like this before.”
I doubted it.
“I’m more inclined to believe, or suspect,” Jason began, and I could still hear Mephistopheles echoing in his voice, “that whatever spell Rhonda used to seal the Bonville Grimoire in place has also attracted this book. That when Dags touched it, the books tried to merge.”
Rhonda nodded slowly. “But why stick out like that?”
“He’s not exactly a big guy,” Joe said as he grabbed for a second slice of pizza. “I’ve never seen this Bonville Grimoire, so maybe there’s not enough room? Like sticking a book on the same shelf and space as another, larger one?”
Jason and Rhonda looked at him wide-eyed.
He held the slice just in front of his mouth. “What?”
“You might have nailed it,” Jason said. “It makes sense. I can sense the larger volume, the one fused to his soul. This one . . .” His voice trailed off as he stared at Dags’s chest. “There’s something familiar—” He shook his head as if to clear it and looked at Rhonda. “I do think a full examination of both books and their contents is in order. As for the question if either of them contains the spell we’re looking for—we won’t know till we can take a look at what’s inside.”
I’d never considered Jason ominous. Though I hadn’t really known him that long. Yeah, we’d met briefly like ten months ago and back then I’d had no clue about him or Nick. Wasn’t Wraith. But I do think if I’d heard him say that back then, I’d still have gotten this creepy feeling at the base of my neck. “When you say examine them—exactly how do you mean?”
“I’d like to know that myself,” Rhonda piped up.
“It’s easy. We remove both of them in order to take a look at the contents.”
Silence. Then, “You can’t do that, Jason. I thought you understood that when I joined the two of them, it was to save Dags’s life. The Bonville is grafted to him, in the same way Mephistopheles is grafted to you. Without him, you would die. And without that book—”
Jason held up a hand. “Wait. I didn’t mean yank the books from him. What I mean is see if there is a way to remove one, examine it, then replace and look at the other? Or perhaps Dags can view the contents of the books mentally? I mean, they are a part of him.”
I raised my hand. “Um . . . first off . . . I’m not really good at magic stuff—”
Dags snorted. I shot him the bird. I knew he was remembering a month back when he’d saved me from the Coyote flame after my attempt at magic.
Jerk.
“But what exactly
is
the book sticking out? We know the big book inside is full of lots of stuff, and it’s powerful enough to keep Dags’s ticker going. This small book—and I say small because I saw the other one, and it was a monster—does it have the same kind of magic?”
Rhonda sighed. “I get what you mean, Zoë.”
I blinked.
You do?
“Is it like substituting a healthy heart for perhaps a diseased one. Or even a subpar one.”
Dags raised his hand. “Do I have a say in this?”
Jason nodded. “Of course. But you also have to understand our situation, Mr. McConnell.” And Jason gave him a very concise and well-worded explanation of the past four days’ events, starting with the human victims brought to the morgue. Once he’d finished, Dags looked a bit bewildered.
“A spell to kill First Borns? You do realize that these things can be reverse-engineered, right? That if the Phantasm created this thing for that purpose, it can be used against him.”
I knew that. TC had told me.
“This is getting weirder by the minute,” Joe said. “And now that I can talk, I’m going to. Phanty creates this spell to get rid of his competition, and you have to write spells down because they can’t be memorized.” He held out his hands. “So, if this spell is that important, how did he lose track of it? Because it’s obvious someone has it, or part of it, but it’s not working since we’ve got souls in limbo and not on the redacted list.”
You know, one of the things I loved most about Joe was his ability to put things into perspective. And into plain English.
“The first objective, which I plan on passing on to the Revenants I can get hold of,” Jason said, “is to figure out who or what has this partial spell. Big question is whether the Phantasm is pulling the strings, or are they being pulled for him.”
“If it means the destruction of Revenants,” Rhonda said, “and someone else is doing it, I doubt he’s going to raise much of a fuss. I mean, he’d get his way.”
“You’ve met the present Phantasm,” Jason said. I had to nod. I’d met him on several occasions. He was kinda nuts. Like Joker nuts. Not Nicholson, but more like Ledger. “He loves control. Power. And if he doesn’t have this spell, it’s because it was stolen, not because he lost it. Once he realized someone else had it, he did everything he could to get it back. One, because in just general terms of the power, and two, because yes, it can be used against him.”
“Yeah, but whatever or whoever has it isn’t exactly targeting the Phantasm,” I said. “We got four bodies. One a ghoul, the other a Revenant.” Well, in truth the only bodies we had so far were the two humans. The others turned to goo. “So I’m getting it’s not a friendly ghost.”
Jason laughed softly. “You may be right, Zoë. But in any case, it looks as if it’s experimenting with what it’s got.” He wiped his hands on a napkin. “I think it might be best if we grab leftovers and head back. Let Nona take a look at Dags.”
I noticed the way he said Nona. All sweet and affectionate. I made secret plans to corral my mother and get the skinny on this whole seeing-Jason-the-Revenant thing, which I knew nothing about.
Dags offered to drive Stella home first, then come back to the shop. Rhonda volunteered to go with them. I think the purpose was twofold. One, because she’s got the world’s biggest crush on him, and two, to make sure he
did
come back and not disappear.
But when we got back to the shop, Mom wasn’t there, but Mastiff pulled up as we piled out. Joe swore under his breath. “I’m not sure how I’m gonna explain this one.”
“Aw,” I said, and patted him on the arm. “I think he’s a grown man and can take it. Just hope he’s not gifted enough to see that book sticking out of Dags’s chest.”
“Halloran,” Mastiff said as he got out of the car, “we have a problem.”
Don’t we always.
Joe held up his hand. “Before we go into anything—”
Mastiff froze in midstride. His eyes were wide as a grin spread across his face. “You—you can
talk
.”
Joe nodded. “Long story. No time to get into it. And I don’t want to make a fuss.”
Oh yes, you do.
“No, no. Not a problem. Though explaining it all to the captain might take some fancy footwork.” He looked past us to Jason as he moved around to the car. “I’m sorry—I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.”
“Oh, Detective Mastiff, meet Jason Lawrence. An old friend of Nona’s and Rhonda’s.”
The two shook hands and sniffed butts. Geez. The solidarity of the guy teams. Was amazing sometimes.
Mastiff turned back to Joe. “We’ve spotted Frasier.”
Heart . . . sinking. Pounding. I stepped forward, a hand going to my heart. “You have?”
“He was actually spotted in a morgue in Cumming earlier this evening.” Mastiff looked apologetically at me.
“Someone see him?” I asked.
“No, but cameras in the parking lot picked him up entering, then an hour later exiting. The police didn’t find anything suspicious inside. And the ME insists nothing was taken.”
In a morgue. Oh man, that doesn’t sound good. What was he up to? What could he want in a morgue?
Rhonda and Dags pulled up then, Dags behind the wheel of a Ford rental. It was gray—close to the color of his eyes. They caught sight of Mastiff and asked questions to get caught up.
“How long ago was it that he was spotted?” Joe said.
“A good three hours. We didn’t get the call for identification till half an hour ago. I was going to drive up there and check it out. Need a partner.”