Out Of The Dark (10 page)

Dags shrugged. "I think it's because --while
we were upstairs--and Zoë was following that one shadow around --I
got a really familiar vibe from it."

"Vibe?" Mom said.

Rhonda patted her hand. "He got a feeling
from it."

Mom shot Rhonda a "watch-it" look. Hey --now
I know where I get that frown. The one Daniel said reminded him of
an evil puppet.

Sigh.
Daniel
.

Tim spoke up. "So --and correct me on this
since I'm trying to follow the conversation over a period of days
--are you saying you recognized one of the Shadows?"

Dags shook his head. "Not the first two.
Those felt wrong, kind of like the atrium felt in the hospital and
the symbols immediately went active and I blasted them," he held
out his hands. "All kinda--"

Scribble. OOGIE.

Dags nodded and pointed to my board. "Yeah,
like that. But afterward when we realized there were more Shadows
in the loft, that third one felt… calmer."

"No, not calm," Rhonda said with a tap to her
chin. "It felt like desperation to me."

My stomach growled. I really needed food.

Nona held up her hands. "Wait...you
blasted
the first two away? What do you mean by
blasted?"

Uh-oh. That's right. Mom didn't know about
Mr. Bartender here and his freaky palm-powered powers.

This should be interesting.

I finished up my tea as Rhonda and Dags
tag-teamed filling mom and Jemmy in on his tattoos and light
power.

Mom's expression caught my attention.
"Darren..." that was so mom, calling him by his given name and not
his nickname. She held out her hand. "Let me see them."

Dags offered her his palms, face up.

I watched her clasp each hand in her own and
then she rubbed her thumbs in the palms. The circles glowed a faint
blue, exposing their details. Dags' closed his eyes and winced as
if he were in pain.

"You do realize you're wide open," she arched
an eyebrow at him as he focused on her face. "With these symbols
cut into your skin--they're like an Open House sign for just about
any un-fettered creature."

"Open House?" Dags swallowed.

Jemmy nodded. "Boy--this Bonville? Sounds
like he was planning on using all four of you Guardians as
sacrifices."

Rhonda sat forward. "For what?"

Jemmy smiled. "That, my dear, is exactly what
we have to find out."

Nona smiled. "Most of these gitchi-goomie
cults or groups use their books like diaries, recording everything
from spells to meeting minutes in them. I'll bet if we find their
grimoire
, we'll know what Bonville's up to."

Grim-who?

Dags grinned at me as he took his hands from
mom. "It's kinda like Rhonda's book here," he pointed to the Big
Honking Book of Everything. "Like a Witch's Book of Shadows. It'll
have all their spells and secrets in it."

Oh.

"Let's see if I can recap," Jemmy said with
her hands on the table. "Zoë got a request from a hostess at a
bar/restaurant in Roswell. Dags here actually works there as a
bartender. One of the co-workers was tripped and ended up in the
hospital and the manager refused to pay. Dags is actually owned by
this Magician's group and they're trying to suck him back --and the
Shadow Folk in the restaurant who are accused of tripping people
and playing jokes actually helped you find these documents." She
pointed to the papers in front of Nona. "Did I leave anything
out?"

Sounded about right.

Nona spoke. "Jemmy and I will focus on why
these documents are important. I can sort of decipher the first
page, but the other pages are just jibberish without the secret
decoder ring."

Hehehehe. I love my mom.

Sometimes.

"I suspect that the missing wife, as well as
Maureen and the others, learned of Bonville's fiendish
plot--because you know Magicians always have fiendish plots--and he
killed them or did something to them. Dags --let me and Rhonda do
something about those tattoos. In here you're fine, but out there
you're done for."

Dags blanched.

Mom looked at me. "I need you and Rhonda to
check out Maureen's apartment and see if there's anything in there
that might lead us to where she went. But the big thing to do is
get a hold of Bonville's
Grimoire
."

All eyes stared at Nona as if she'd lost her
mind. And I think she had.

"Nona," Rhonda frowned. "Exactly how do you
suppose we do that? I'm sure he's got it locked up in his home or
where ever they do their mojo."

She smiled and I didn't like it. "I don't
think he has that Grimoire anymore," she held up the documents.
"These pages attest that it was taken, or defaced in some way."

"They do?" Rhonda said.

"You think those pages are out of the book
itself?" Jemmy said.

"Yes I do," Nona said. "And if it was taken
and these pages ripped out, my guess is either Bonville's wife,"
she looked at Dags, "Or Maureen took it."

"Which would make sense in a motive
standpoint if he came after her," Dags said. "And you don't think
he's found it?"

"No. But rest assured," she grinned and I
still didn't like it. "If we can get our hands on it, he'll be
coming after us as well."

Oh. Hell.

*****

CHAPTER SEVEN

The problem we faced--well okay we had
several problems but I'm gonna concentrate on one at a time--was
that we needed Dags to come with us to look at Maureen's apartment
(he had a key!) but if he stepped outside of the house wards then
he might get zapped.

Rhonda and Mom moved into the Botanica while
Dags and Jemmy talked about stuff in the corner. I decided to be
useful and started picking up things and taking them back into the
kitchen. Tim appeared there as well and was solid enough to open
the dishwasher so I could load it.

"You got any Wraithy feelings on this
one?"

I paused in the middle of putting a dessert
plate into the washer.
Uh…no. And what is Wraithy
feelings?

"You know--kinda of like a spidey sense?"

I pursed my lips and shook my head before
finishing up the dishes. Once that was done I poured myself another
glass of tea over my half-melted ice and looked at my little spooky
buddy.
I don't get this thing with Dags--the whole marks on the
hand thing. That's more Rhonda's schtick. But those things in that
restaurant?
I shook my head.
There were two types of
things--kinda like we were attacked by a set of apples and then an
orange helped. They were both fruit, but just different kinds of
fruits.

Tim laughed. "I'm not sure which is
sadder--your analogy or the fact I understood it."

I blew him a quiet razzberry and sipped my
tea. Mmm….sugary goodness. Oh shut up--I'm watching my sugar!

"You think that the oranges and the apples
were related?"

I nodded.
Yeah--just not in the way we
think of as related. The apples felt--well pissed off. Angry.
Irritated. I don't have the right word. But the orange
was--well--scared. Sad. Desperate.

"Hey Zoë!" that was Rhonda.

I saluted Tim with the tea and moved out of
the kitchen and into the Botanica. Mom and Rhonda had cleared the
coffee table of its magazines and had a flat square of wood on
it--with a pentagram carved out of it. Oh geez…don't these two ever
stop? Was the one on the floor not enough that they had to make a
portable altar thingie?

I was shocked Rhonda didn't have it on my
iBook. She could call it an iPentagram.

Wait--iStar?

iPentacle?

Phhht.

Jemmy and Dags were with them as well, all
kneeling and sitting down around the board. In the middle of it sat
Dags' silver bracelet. Upon closer inspection I noticed it was a
chain of little silver skulls--but they were stylized looking.
Kinda like Day of the Dead skulls.
That real silver?

"Yeah," Dags said. "It was a gift from a
shaman I met while I was in Mexico."

Oh. Cool.

"Yeah. He's dead. Bit by a snake."

Well you're just full of cheery news, ain't
cha?

"Zoë," Mom looked up where I was looming. "I
need you to go OOB for me and then go corporeal."

I stood up straight. I did manage to sign,
"Why?" cause I'd seen that gesture enough.

"Just trust me on this."

You're not gonna hurt me are you?

"She wants to know if she's gonna get hurt,"
Dags interpreted.

Mom rolled her eyes. "Not yet. Just
please--"

Yet? Why the yet part? Oh all right
. I
moved past them and set myself down in the papasan and slipped out.
Didn't take much to make me go all solid. Just one thought of
Daniel and poof. Here I am! I moved in closer--Dags was watching
all wide eyed.

"How come you always have that on?"

You don't like bunny slippers?

He smiled. "Love them. But when they sprout
fangs, I'm outta here."

"Okay, Zoë I need you to reach out and touch
the bracelet when I tell you too."

Oh--kay.
So I held my corporeal hand
over the bracelet.

"No, the other one. The one TC touched."

Argh. I switched arms, reaching out with my
left arm. This made the hand print even more visible to everyone. I
was self-conscious about it. Dags was literally salivating over
it.

Mom lit four white candles around the table.
She bowed her head. Then she nodded to me. I touched the
bracelet--

And found myself in the other room--
on my
ass
.

"Zoë!" Rhonda was at the curtain between the
two stores and looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I pushed myself up--and I was very light
headed--to a point where I simply let go--

And was back in my body before I knew what
hit me. I could hear Mom, Dags and Jemmy--and then there was
someone touching my forehead. I opened my eyes and saw Rhonda
bending over me. "Oohh…I'm sorry Zoë. I mean…I figured it'd do
something, but not that. Are you okay?"

Mom was suddenly behind her--and I saw worry
on her face. "Can you get up?"

What the hell did you people do?

Dags translated.

Rhonda looked sheepish. "Well, we used a
little of your Wraith essence--as a sort of an invisibility
cloak."

I frowned.
You did what?

Dags said, "You did what?"

Mom reached down past Rhonda and offered me
her hand. I took it and let her help me up to a standing position.
Oh man was I wobbly or what. "Dags needs something that makes him
invisible to what Bonville is doing. So we came up with the idea of
using a bit of your Abysmal essence to make Dags seem to be made of
Abysmal. It should protect him for at least twenty-four hours.
Silver can hold a charge for a while, but it can't last. Now gold,
that'd probably retain the blast a good bit better but then--"

I grabbed her shoulder and waited until she
was looking at me.
You took a piece of me to use in a
bracelet?

Dags translated. He had the bracelet on and
was now standing up and walking to us. Rhonda pulled away from me.
I could somehow tell she was a little upset--but at who?

Whom?

"No, Zoë," Mom looked a little fierce.
"
I
took a piece of the Abysmal stuff that is the Wraith.
That boy could die if he's pulled physically into the Abysmal, and
this jackass Bonville apparently doesn't care about the lives he's
ended." She took in a deep breath, and her boobs expanded
exponentially. "I'm not sure how all this ties together, Zoë, but I
am going to take offense to some asshat using power for personal
gain at the expense of innocent lives. We don't have proof. But we
will."

And with that she turned and walked out of
the room.

I looked at Rhonda and Dags. They were
looking where Nona disappeared, their own expressions mirroring my
own surprise at mom's reaction.

And somehow--I had the impression I was
watching a movie with half of it missing. But it was in a foreign
language. There was something else there--something that had mom
pissed
.

It was closer to dinner by the time we got to
Maureen's apartment. Mainly because we just drove around near the
shop for a good twenty minutes to make sure Dags wasn't going to
like, get sucked into some Ceremonial Abysmal Hoover. When we were
sure the bracelet was working we headed out to Maureen's
apartment.

It was a nice one-bedroom in a complex off of
Holcombridge Road in Roswell. Rhonda drove Nona's car again and I
stayed in the back. I wasn't really feeling all that spiffy--I was
still light headed and a little nauseated.

There didn't seem to be anyone watching the
place--or nothing I could sense on the oogie radar--and Dags let us
in. Rhonda went all CSI on us, pulling rubber gloves out of her
coat pockets. I played along, as did Dags.
Snap!

It was like any other apartment I'd ever
seen. Beige. The carpet. Beige. The kitchen. Beige. Just sort
of…beige.

Maureen had done a nice job of decorating it
with pictures of mountain scenes--many of which Dags said she'd
taken herself. He moved to the kitchen and Rhonda came up to me and
whispered, "I get the impression they were more than friends."

How do you sign, "Duh?"

A sectional defined the living area from the
dining area. A low coffee table, a generic square dining
table--covered in mail. I moved to the mail and started sifting
through it--and noticed something was off.
Dags? This mail is
all postmarked three days ago.

He came up beside me. I smelled cologne.
Drakkar. Daniel wore Drakkar sometimes. I pouted silently. "It is?
But why is it in here? Maureen's been missing two weeks--and I
haven't been here since then." He took pieces from the table and
checked himself. "Who's been in this apartment."

I looked up and didn't see Rhonda.
Where's--