Geist (3 page)

Riiiiight
. I waved my hand. "Okay, so back to the host. What has this got to do with Dags?" 

"You have the capability to create a link with him." 

I moved back again. "A link?"

"You have one of the pages." 

I instinctually put my hand to my breast where I'd tucked that crinkled, folded up page into my bra. I hadn't known I'd even possessed that piece of the
Grimoire
until I'd been in here for some time. Had I always had it in my hand where I'd found it? Was it possible I'd taken it when we found Maureen with Dags? I just...didn't know. I'd hidden it in my bra because it helped me feel close to him and I didn't want it taken away. "How did you know—"

"I am Geist." 

And I was going to get really tired of hearing that as an excuse. "How does this page—" 

"Darren McConnell's ghost is woven into the pages of the
Grimoire
. The witch did this with her magic. But the book is incomplete until that page is returned. It is a link back to him. A bridge." 

"So..." I kept my hand over my chest as I narrowed my eyes. "I can use this page to project my ghost—what I call my astral self—into his body? I don't want to possess him, Geist. I want to talk to him. I
need
to hear his voice." 

"Don't want to possess him..." Geist put a hand to his chin. It was the most animated I'd seen him since I first noticed him hanging about. "That might be difficult. Possession is the outcome of projection." 

"Maybe not always. " I thought about the Familiars that resided inside of the portals tattooed in Dags' palms. "Dags has two entities already connected to him." 

Geist snapped his fingers. It looked incongruent since his facial features didn't change. Stoic worked better for him. "The two ghosts held within the magic seals." His eyes widened and he looked at me. "This man is...an Irin?" 

"No....and yes..." I said. "It's complicated. Wait..." my lips turned into a frown. "You knew he possessed a
Grimoire
, but not about the Familiars?" 

" Sometimes I only know what I can see. Much of him is veiled from the planes. Such a veil is very common with Irins—or it was. But there are no Irins left in the world. The former Phantasm had them destroyed." 

"Right, in the Bulwark. That infamous battle between the planes and the Irin. Or something like that." I had to figure this out. I could in theory, according to this Geist, link myself to Dags. But I didn't want to possess him. I needed to get to him so I could let him and everyone else know I was okay. And where the hell I was so they could do something to come get me out. "Does him being an Irin change whether or not I can link to him?"

"No," he said and shook his head slowly. "But you will have to be careful. The throne is set for Irin contagion. If he were to get too close to it—" 

Oh I did not like the sound of that. "You mean it'd take him in too? But wouldn't he have to be here physically? He can't do that. He's a living being." 

"He is many things," Geist said. "I would not be surprised if he could slip into the Abysmal plane in physical form. He would be protected by the
Grimoire
. Zoë, this idea must be thought out more thoroughly. Your essence complicates things, as does his. I would ask that you wait before you attempt contact—" 

"No." 

He lowered his hands. "Zoë—I am not sure what the effect would be." 

"Geist—what is it the Ethereals want? Why do they want me to agree to seal the borders? They're closed now, right? Why seal them?"

"They wish to re-establish order between the planes." He tilted his head again and his eyes got a far-away look; as if he were remembering something. Or looking at something I couldn't see. "The Ethereal once ruled the planes without chaos. All things bent to their will alone." 

"Honestly? I thought you said there had to be polarity?" 

"This was a very long time ago. Samael came from the abysmic to give true balance. Nature corrected itself. Once Samael commanded the Abysmal, order was restored." He refocused on me. "I have downloaded the information on Darren McConnell." 

Huh?
I put a hand on the egg's surface. "You downloaded—oh-kay? What does that mean?" 

"The Ethereals keep records of their meetings—they are a very organized group. This prevents disruption." 

"You mean someone takes minutes like in a meeting? " 

"Yes. And these minutes were recorded twenty-four hours ago. Darren McConnell has been named the prime candidate for resonance." 

"What—" I pushed against the edge. "What does that mean?" 

"It means they do not believe you will be as successful a puppet as they hoped. Adiran Martinique, your father, has entered Darren McConnell's name into consideration. His unique abilities and dual plane access makes him viable. But there is a side note that is most alarming." 

"What?" I hated this! I was so freak'n useless and Geist was so freak'n hard to figure out. 

"Since your insertion into the throne, the stability of the
Grimoire
has been called into question. It has been decided that the book will be removed and kept safely within the Ethereal realm away from human hands. What is left of Darren McConnell will be placed within the Abysmic throne to usurp the present Potential." 

My heart skipped and a very nasty, dark veil passed over my eyes. I could feel my wings beating against my back, aching to be set free. "If they take the
Grimoire
out...that'll leave Dags like he was—a doll!" 

"Yes. Easy to use. Easy to manipulate." The edges of Geist's mouth turned up slowly in a mockery of Joe's smirk. "If they can put him in your place, then they will have complete control." 

"And what happens to me?" 

"You die." 

-4-

All Things Familiar

Geist left me alone after that. Well, to be honest, it was more like I disappeared into the egg. I could do that if I wanted. Like I said—it was limiting, but limitless. 

I floated around for a while, drifting in and out of sleep. My body was still recovering from my jaunt into the physical plane, and if I was going to believe Geist, the Ethereals had no idea I'd done it. 

Because he hadn't told them. And I'd just ordered him not to.

Did I trust him? 

Did I have a choice? 

But what I couldn't get my mind off of was what he'd said about Dags. And my own dad! Dad thought Dags would make a better puppet than me. Not that I was that happy about
being
a puppet. 

I had to get back there and warn them; warn Dags. Geist confirmed they were able to correct the
Grimoire
—or at least he wasn't some zombified thing sitting there with no mind. And I was pretty damned sure my friends were all patting themselves on the back and taking a breather. 

But they had to know there was still a page missing. They couldn't know
I
had it. 

What they needed to be doing was getting my ass out of here and going after the Ethereals before things got worse. I knew somehow that closing off the borders was a bad idea—or it just seemed like a bad idea. It was too much like how dumb politician speak about illegal aliens. 

Were they still out to destroy the Revenants? If they were, it meant Jason and Mephistopheles would probably hang around Atlanta and not head back to Chicago. Not yet. And what about the rest of them—were they all still in one city?

I pulled the page from where I'd tucked it in my bra and held it out in front of me. This was my link to Dags. Was it possible that I could slip inside of him...kinda like the way the Familiars did? 

I wasn't kidding when I said I didn't want to possess him. I just wanted to talk to him. I wanted to talk to all of them. 

Well that and I wanted to yell. A lot. 

And with my personality, I might just take over even if I didn't want to.

Should I try it? 

I pressed the page against my face. I could smell him if I inhaled deeply enough. And I could see him in my mind—the way he was before when we'd made love at the Society House. 

And the shower... 

Heat started somewhere around my middle—in the right areas too—when I thought about making love to him again. I closed my eyes and thought of the way his hair curled around his neck, the way his beautiful gray eyes looked at me. 

I wanted to see that smile again—to be touched by him. 

To be kissed. 

How dare my daddy put me in here...where no one could touch me, or kiss me...

Or hold me. 

He'd confined me to solitude with no thought to how I would
feel
.

Hold me, Darren...I need you. 

•••

I didn't know if it was me getting angry and thinking of Dags at the same time or wishful thinking. I don't even know how much time passed between my chat with Geist and what happened next.

I do know that suddenly—

I wasn't filtering things through the murky depths of the egg, looking out at a run-down theater. And I wasn't looking behind me into the vast distance of the universe.

I was looking at—some girl with tattoos on her face and bleached white hair?

And she was coming at me with a machete!

"Look out!" I heard a voice shout.

"I see her!"

Whoa! I flinched as I raised a sword and blocked the attack. The two metals clanked and the impact vibrated up through my right arm. I took in a deep breath and pushed her back just before I feigned to the left.

Tattoo-Chick came at me with her machete again. I pivoted to my right and with her momentum she moved just past me as I brought the blade of the sword up and sliced it downward at her. It connected with the back of her neck and—

HOLY HELL!

Her head popped off!

What channel had I tuned into?

Wherever it was, there were more oddly tattooed people fighting around me. As I started to look around I realized that I recognized most of the people fighting against the ones with tattoos.

Jason!

Nick!

Was that Rhonda?

And Joe!

"Hey—" a familiar voice to my right shouted and I looked over at—
Daniel!
"Handle that one and I think we're good."

I felt myself nod and turned to see a much bigger, much uglier tattoo-faced guy heading my way. He didn't have a machete. No. This guy had a—

CHAINSAW!

The thunder from its engine and quickly moving blades forced me to move back. When he came at me, I blocked with my sword, turned, and was behind him. Whoever these guys were they were almost fast in their attacks.

With Chainsaw's back to me I tried to dispatch him in a similar fashion to his tattoo-laced girlfriend. Sadly my luck seemed to run out. It didn't work! The guy's head didn't come off. Hell I didn't even get my blade near it. Instead he brought his yard tool up and blocked my killing blow. My sword bounced back and I lost my grip on it. Did whoever I was in really think that move would work? I mean...come on. You can't expect to use the same feign-and-slash attack over and over again. And certainly not against a chainsaw!

With a nice backpedal I stumbled over something in the floor and landed on my back with the wind knocked out of me.

GET UP!
I shrieked.

Something shook me—this body—who ever I was with. I was trying to figure out which one of my old Scooby Doo gang I had slipped my astral self into—because that was the only way I could be seeing the others. It wasn't any of the ones I could see.

Was I inside of TC?

Was that possible? He didn't really have a body did he?

And I wasn't thinking I knew anyone that wielded a sword but—

Wait—

Dags had a sword a few times.

I'd seen him use it.

I was...I was...

I was
what
?

I was inside of
him
? I was inside of
Dags
?  Had I been successful? Could he...could he hear me?

Should I try it?

No time! Chainsaw on the down stroke!

I scrambled back and was having a hard time breathing—

Then I saw another chainsaw—a much bigger, much badder one—intercept my attacker's. That yard tool was attached to an arm; literally attached to a muscular arm ala "Evil Dead!"

"Sorry ass-wipe," a familiar, deep voice said. "But you ain't gutt'n the kid."

TC!

His familiar bald head came into view as I lay on the floor and tried to breathe. What happened to me? To Dags? Why was I gasping for breath?

Something wet and hot splashed across my face. I looked down the length of my body—at Dags' body—and saw blood splattered all over a green tee shirt, jeans, and arms.

Dags' arms.

Strong, tan arms.

He was alive. And he was whole and fighting. He wasn't a doll anymore!

TC was over me, his hand on Dags' shoulder. He looked good—as he always had=except for the gaunt cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. What was wrong with him? "Hey, book-boy. You okay? Looks like that machete bitch scored."

"Yeah," I said.

DAGS! It's me! I'm here!

Again there was a start, as if Dags' body had a shock run through it.

"Kid?"

"Azrael...get Rhonda. I think—"

"She's coming. She'll get you healed up real quick. Looks like we got 'em all."

"No no...it's not that. I think..."

But Rhonda was suddenly in my face beside TC. "Baby...it's okay. Looks like she just pierced skin. A few stitches and you'll be okay."

Baby?

Hello? Since when did
you
call
my
man baby?

"No," Dags reached out and grabbed Rhonda's hand. Rhonda squeezed back.

I fumed. What was with the hand-holding?

"What is it? Was this too much for you? Jesus, I knew we shouldn't have brought you along yet."

"No..." he shook his head. "I wanted to do something, remember? I just..." he gave a long sigh. "It's just that...I think I heard Zoë."

What? He heard me? He heard me!

"What the hell are you doing in here?"