Soul Cage (4 page)

But he would never be
with
her
again,
though Mephistopheles possessed all of Romina's
memories.

Jason took the Bloody Mary from Nick
and sipped it. It was spiked with just the right amount of tomato
juice, Tabasco sauce, and blood. The juice and hot sauce for his
human host to wake up the senses, the blood for Mephistopheles.
After finishing half of it, he looked up at Nick and noticed the
man's peculiar expression. "What?"

Nick glanced at Dags. "Mephistopheles
didn't tell you?"

I didn't want to alarm
him.

"Alarm me about what?"

"He lost contact with Morgan, and
Manuel's not answering his phone."

Jason slumped his shoulders. That
didn't sound good. Certainly Rhonda wouldn't do anything to him,
would she? Could she?

Jason, why were you
looking at that memory?

He set the glass on the nightstand. "I
don't know—I didn't choose it. It sort of chose me."

You realize who it
was.

"Yes. I do. That was Raziel—but from a
long time ago. You'd known him before."

He is family…in a sense.
He was given birth by the Seraphim—though not in the same way my
father created me. Raziel was made the same way Adiran Martinique
was.

"Human," Nick said. "But on the astral
plane when their bodies were destroyed. And then their souls were
touched by the Ethereal host, much like Zoë's spirit was touched by
the Abysmal."

Yes. But Raziel was much
older. Older than I.

"But Raziel is dead—Geist killed him."
Jason rubbed at the back of his head. The physical wound may be
gone, but he still had the ghost of a headache. "What host were you
in when I saw that memory? You were in Savannah?"

No. New Orleans, though
the similarities are haunting, aren't they?
Mephistopheles paused.
I was bonded
with Bethany back then. But Virtues and Revenants know one another
on sight. He'd stepped across the street to talk.

"But why did Jason see that memory
now?"

I don't know. As he said,
Raziel is dead. Geist destroyed him. And, we have more pressing
mysteries.

"I agree. First, what happened to
Manuel and Morgan, and secondly," Jason turned his attention to
Dags. "How were you able to manifest the Guardian's sword and why
did I see Maureen."

Dags looked from Jason, to Nick, and
back to Jason. "Who's Maureen?"

•••

Nona Martinique, Zoë's mom and CEO of
the Society of Ishmael, great niece of the Society's Founder,
Abraham Domas, pursed her lips in the mirror as she checked her
lipstick. In one hour she had her first taped interview with a
local reporter investigating the CCE and Tamera Moultrie, the
snot-nosed little bitch that tried to crucify Nona, her shop, and
the Society during the Virtue's little coup a month ago. Truth be
told, they'd damn near won.

And if it hadn't of been
for Geist getting Zoë out of the Abysmal Plane and getting that
last page so Rhonda could fix the
Grimoire
to access the magic
again—they would have. Having Azrael as Phantasm had proven to be a
boon as well, though she'd never thought of herself as one to be in
line with what she affectionately referred to as the Shadow
Court.

This new reporter seemed very
interested in sticking it to Moultrie. And so did Nona. That nasty
little—oh the words that went through Nona's mind—was still out
there badmouthing the occult elements in the city. The funny part
was, with the still shaky economy, and the upcoming presidential
race beginning next year, and all the posturing on the news—no one
was paying attention to some little hick in the south talking about
demons and angels.

The new location was
working out fine, as was the new hierarchy within the Society. Nona
had been careful about selecting previous supporting members as
well as people she trusted as Council Board representatives.
Setting up the Council had been nail-biting, as so many feared what
Rhonda Orly would do or what she was capable of since she was the
only one with access to the
Grimoire
.

But Nona learned if she left the
little witch alone with her toy, Rhonda left Nona alone to run the
business.

Even if that toy was a twenty-nine
year old man whom Rhonda had manipulated into loving
her.

Yes, Nona knew what'd happened. Did
she condone it? No. Did she intend on letting it
continue?

That was hard to say. She adored
Darren McConnell, and she knew he'd made her daughter very happy.
But Darren was also dangerous—not just to them but to everyone. He
held inside of him a book of biblical reputation in the magical
community. Rhonda's possession of him did two things—it tamed the
witch's infatuation with the boy which tempered her acquiescence in
releasing control to Nona, and two, Rhonda's attentions kept Darren
safe.

And keeping Darren safe meant keeping
the book safe.

Would her daughter agree with
her?

No. Which is why she'd avoided talking
to Zoë about it.

Instead, she'd worked with Daniel in
keeping Zoë occupied. Daniel was more than willing as he still had
feelings for Zoë. Through the destruction of his soul after being
possessed by Zoë's Horror, the experience hadn't dampened his
affection for her.

Rhonda came to Nona after Zoë's attack
on her and asked that Zoë be removed to a remote location. She was
dangerous and needed to be controlled. Nona had seen that for what
it was—a ploy to get the Wraith as far away as possible. Why—Nona
wasn't sure. Yes, Zoë had nearly choked her to death, but damn it,
Rhonda deserved it after what she did.

Geist had prevented it and then,
unknown to Zoë, prevented Rhonda from seeking revenge. To keep the
peace, Nona had asked Rhonda to present her case to the Council,
and as she anticipated, the Council voted no.

Zoë remained.

Was this decision made because so many
of them disapproved of what Rhonda had done—or whether they
preferred having the Wraith close? In order to keep Rhonda fairly
happy, she had paired Zoë with Daniel, and now the two were off on
a week's vacation before starting work together.

Zoë'd needed it—especially after
having dealt with the Dominion with Manuel.

Her phone buzzed against the dresser
where it sat to her right. She glanced at the caller. It was Lucy
Mullhaly, one of the nurses at the Society. They'd had to have
their own infirmary built to treat the unconventional conventionals
who possessed anomalies that might not fit in with the known
practice of medicine. And since Lucy was herself a regular blood
donor for their Revenants, she came highly trusted.

Why was she calling?

Nona placed the call on speaker as she
answered. Nona was at her shop in Little Five Points, her newest
helper, Nathaniel, downstairs with customers. "Hello
Lucy."

"Nona—there's a problem."

Lucy never minced words. Nona picked
the phone up and removed it from speaker. She put it to her ear and
wondered if something had happened in Canada with Daniel and Zoë.
Why else call her? "What is it?"

"It's Manuel—" her voice was a bit
panicked. "Umayma's in here with me and she's frantic. One of the
data-entry kids we'd hired found him unconscious on the floor. We
got him to the infirmary but—"

Nona pushed the chair out. She had a
special place for Manuel in her heart—not just because he was a
little hottie but because his First Born had been Jason's lover
once, in another host. And she would do anything to protect Jason
and Mephistopheles. "Was he attacked? Can't Umayma speak to
Morgan—"

"That's just it," Lucy said and her
voice broke. "She says Morgan's not there."

Nona gasped. "What?"

"Nona…she says Morgan's
gone."

-4-

Nona called a little after noon just
as Dags came down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed in a
pair of Nick's old clothes, since he'd gotten a lot of Jason's
blood, as well as that of the Dominion's host when he cut off its
head. Though of Ethereal essence, they still used human bodies to
manifest on the Physical Plane. Jeans, socks, black hoodie and red
tee-shirt. His hair was wet and dripped on the hood of the jacket
as Jason grabbed the phone and motioned for Dags to come into his
office.

The room's original architectural
intent might have been a greenhouse or arboretum evident in the
floor to ceiling windows. Jason loved the sun and open spaces, and
with the right tinting on the glass, Mephistopheles felt
comfortable enough. The walls that weren't open to the elements
were covered in books. Some were sealed behind glass doors with
locks and expensive alarm systems.

A few shelves displayed sculptures
he'd picked up in Asia and Africa.

Once Dags was seated on a black
leather couch in the corner, Jason stepped outside the office to
the terrace across the hall. He could see most of Buckhead, one of
the trendier areas in Atlanta. Christmas decorations winked on and
off from store windows, and the Story Teller was decked out with a
wreath around his neck. The sky was monochromatic and he swore it
looked like it might snow. It was chilly enough, but the longer he
stayed bonded with Mephistopheles, the less he felt the cold. He
remained in his suit and slippers. "Sorry…had to switch rooms. Can
you say that again, Nona?"

"Damnit Jason—I know you heard me. And
I know you have Dags with you. But you have got to bring him back
here."

"Are you nuts? Didn't you hear what
happened? I saw him manifest the sword again. How did he do that
when he can't even remember who Maureen is? Or Alice?"

"It sounds to me like it was a fight
or die response. The Familiars are there to protect him so he can
protect the borders—and that's excluding that damned book.
Guardianship is his first purpose. Not as some repository for
Rhonda to dip in when ever she pleases."

"Then why in the hell do you want me
to bring him back?"

"You said the last person to talk to
Manuel was you. I mean Mephistopheles. And Manuel told
Mephistopheles he did speak to her, right?"

"Yeah. You think she attacked him? And
if she did—then all the better to keep Dags away from her,
right?"

"She's insisting she hasn't even seen
Manuel all day. She'd been in one of the vaults putting an artifact
away when she discovered Dags wasn't on the grounds. Now she's
threatening to call the police because his phone's going to voice
mail." She sighed heavily. "Jason, we can't have this right
now."

"Look, Dags is fine. And I intend on
finding out how after nearly two months he can suddenly pull that
sword out."

"Jason—get him home."

"Once I have my answers I
will."

"Damnit boy—"

"Watch over Manuel, Nona."
He disconnected. The worry and fear in Nona's voice unnerved him.
He'd known her a very long time. They'd been lovers once, much to
Zoë's consternation. But his affection for her ran deep. He
knew
her.

He also knew how truly powerful she
was. Her uncle had known as well. Why else pair her up with one of
his hand made Virtues but to create an Irin, the first in a long
dead race.

Jason felt old in that minute. Very,
very old.

You're not old. I'm old.
You're just feeling my weight.

"Then go on a diet, Old Man," Jason
said aloud and went back into his office.

Dags was still sitting on the couch,
his hands at his sides. His eyes were closed and the expression on
his face was confused. "Dags?"

"I…I can hear her. She reacted when
you said her name."

"Who?"

"Maureen."

Jason stopped in front of
him. "You can
hear
Maureen."

"Yeah. I told you I was
hearing voices. I just didn't know their names. Maureen." He opened
his eyes. "And you knew her. You
know
her."

"Yes. And I know Alice. Can you hear
her too?"

His eyes unfocused and he nodded
slowly. "Yeah… it's actually better now that I know there are two
distinct voices."

"Yeah," Jason said and
then moved around to sit on the oak coffee table in front of the
couch. He faced Dags who opened his eyes. "Do you know
who
they
are?"

"Maureen keeps saying Familiars. But a
Familiar is a cat, right?"

He laughed. "In some places. Familiars
are in essence someone or something bound to you to do your
bidding. Alice and Maureen were bound to you through the tattoos on
your palms to protect you."

Dags held out his hands, palms up.
There wasn't a mark on them. "What tattoos?"

Great
. Jason rubbed at his face. This might take longer than he
intended.