Revenant (11 page)

I wanted to tell them I was fine, but then my stomach rolled to the left, and I nearly threw up on Joe. I held on to him as we moved up the stairs, each step accompanied by nausea.

It’s okay,
came his tentative voice in my head.
I’ve got you.

I moaned. God . . . I hadn’t felt this bad since those one or two times I’d stayed out of my body too long and had to deal with the physical consequences. I felt soft sheets on my skin, but it was getting harder to keep my eyes open.

And I was . . . cold.

Very cold.

Pressure on my chest opened my eyes. I saw Joe, and Rhonda. Jemmy was on my right and made a noise. I’d wanted to ask what was happening . . . but that didn’t come out. I was horribly sick to my stomach and couldn’t move.

I am sorry,
Mephistopheles said again in my mind. And I could feel his emotion in his voice.
I was dishonest with you.

I blinked a few times before closing my eyes. What was happening to me? There was no way I was going to stay awake no matter how hard I fought.

I wanted to know, but I also wanted the dark oblivion I could see coming for me.

Mephistopheles paused.
When you release a ghoul, Zoë, you don’t receive the benefits of its soul’s release.

I waited long enough on the precipice of that darkness for his explanation.

USUALLY
, it’s during this time I have some weird, wacky dream. Something that shows just how crazy the internal workings of my head can be. Yeah . . . well . . . I wasn’t disappointed.

I wasn’t on the back porch of Mom’s house this time—nor was I beside a babbling brook or even running through some deranged cave or other freakish nightmare place. This time I found myself in one of the squares in Old Savannah.

And you know how I knew it was a dream?

It
wasn’t
stiflingly hot like Savannah usually is in June.

I was dressed in my usual: dark pants, shirt, and bunny slippers (happy slippers with pink noses), and the sun was somewhere above the canopy of magnolias and Spanish moss. There weren’t any people out. No bums in the square, no shoppers, no elderly couples taking a siesta.

I couldn’t tell which of the squares I was in. No landmarks. Not even a sign.

Instead of just standing there, I started to walk around, looking for someone.

Anyone.

“Zoë?”

Ah—I knew it!

I turned—expecting to see Rhonda or Mom, or even Joe or Jemmy, Steve or even my dad. I wasn’t expecting the mature, whitehaired woman standing by the nearest tree. Her hair had a soft luminescence to it as it flowed down over her shoulders and seemed to disappear into the white—uhm—clothing she was wearing.

I tilted my head to the left, still trying to discern exactly what it was this person was wearing.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

My gaze traveled from her clothing to her face, and I concentrated on it. She had brilliant blue eyes, and wasn’t as old as I originally thought she was. But as to who she was? I was drawing a wholesome blank. I shook my head. “Hint?”

She smiled. “I’m a Guardian Familiar.”

Oh. Shit!
“Alice?”

She nodded. I smiled.
Hooo-kay.
So . . . I was dreaming about one of Dags’s Familiars.
How wrong is that?

“We need to talk—but I’m afraid I don’t have much time in this realm.”

“Realm?”

“Dream time.”

Oh.
I nodded.
Okay, I’ll play along.
“You can do this? Come into someone’s dream?”

“Not everyone’s dream. But Darren shares a deep affinity for you—and you for him—so that makes the communication ea—”

“Wait.” I put up my hand. “Hold it. I do
not
have an affinity for him.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No. I. Do. Not.”

She glared at me. I sighed. “Go on.” Wasn’t this
my
dream?

“As I was saying . . . it makes it easier for me to find you when you are dreaming.”

I won’t say I wasn’t a little happy that I’d somehow established some kind of link with Dags—even if it was through some weird Familiar dream-link-thingie. And nothing was going to stop me from saying, “How is he?”

Saying
hell. I
blurted
that out.

Blah.

What I didn’t expect was the confused look on Alice’s face. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and half turned away. “He’s not dreaming.”

“Not dreaming?” I frowned “You can tell?”

“Being”—she looked back at me—“what I am. I’m a part of Darren. Both Maureen and I are. It’s a symbiosis in its own way. Though—since he was fused with the Grimoire—our impact on his life lessened. He can survive without us—though maimed. But without the Grimoire, he will die.”

Yeah . . . I’d been told that. But I was still fuzzy on the details. Dags had his own stories to tell. “And you can see his dreams?”

“I could if I wanted to, but I don’t. I’m not that nosy.” She shrugged. “But the point is, he’s not dreaming. Hasn’t been for several weeks. It was spotty at first, and I’d noticed he was having trouble concentrating. But now—”

“Is it affecting his abilities?”

“Yes. Mostly with Maureen. He rarely uses his left hand when fighting, and I’m getting overtaxed. When he does call on Maureen”—she frowned—“there’s something wrong.”

“Can’t you just talk to Maureen? I mean, are you two like sisters in this? Share the same condo? Chez Dags?”

She smiled at my quip but shook her head. “Maureen doesn’t know either. She’s just as surprised. And I know if she lies.” Alice shook her head. “We’re not sure what to do—so I wanted to see if you could help us?”

Us?

“Why hasn’t Dags answered my calls?”

Whoa. Wow. Where the fuck did that come from?
I had to look inward at myself.
Jealous much?

Alice’s confused expression spoke volumes. “You called him? He said he hasn’t heard from you since last month.”

“I called him!” I held out my arms. “More times than I’ll admit to. He’s been in contact with Rhonda though.”

“Well, he’s working for her group.”

I hated that. “So has she noticed anything different?”
And now that I know about this not-dreaming thing, I intend on asking Rhonda about it too.

“I don’t know. We’ve been in California most of the month. The SOI had him procuring another Grimoire—though not as powerful as the one he carries.”

“Did he get it?”

“Oh yes.” She looked distracted. “I have to go—”

“Wait.” I tried to take a step forward but found I didn’t have any feet. Figures. Damn dream. I was apparently growing out of the square itself. And my happy, pink-nosed bunny slippers had hopped off somewhere. “Alice—was that what you needed to tell me?”

She wasn’t looking at me anymore—she was walking away in a lazy stroll, through a hedge made of azaleas that turned from pink and red to black and white. The trees turned gray as well as the world became monochromatic—looking a lot like an old horror movie.

And as if on cue, a hand popped out of the ground to grab at my feet. I squealed a little. Okay. I flat-out shrieked because I really wasn’t expecting skeletal hands. And then—

 

 

 

I
sat up in bed, and something cold and wet fell into my lap. Blinking, I looked down to see a folded washcloth in front of me. My head felt as if someone had stuffed it full of styrofoam pellets, and they moved from side to side when I moved my head.

“You’re awake,” came a melodic voice to my left. I realized then I was in my bed at Mom’s. And I was dressed in a set of very soft cotton pajamas. Uh . . . where did these come from? I narrowed my eyes to the voice and saw Jason move to sit on the bed beside me.

He looked incredible—much better than the last time I’d seen him. Eric Bana in the Hugo Boss summer collection.

Sans the jacket, of course.

He reached out and took the cloth from my hands, but then immediately put his own hand to my forehead. I realized then I was wet. I mean—my entire body was covered in a heavy layer of sweat, and the pajamas were sticking to me in all the right strategic places. “Fever’s broken. That’s good.”

When he pulled his hand away, he got up and moved into the bathroom, which joined my bedroom to the adjacent one where Rhonda sometimes crashed. I heard water running as I threw off the heavy cover. Yeah, I was covered in perspiration. I needed a shower.

But when I stood to move into the bathroom, some asshole moved the floor on me, and I went down, my knees giving first. I never actually hit the floor though—as Jason was instantly there, holding on to me, his arms around me. With a sigh, he nearly picked me up and sat me back on the bed.

Next, he leaned down to my eye level and pointed a finger in my face. “You—sit. It’ll take you maybe a day to get up to speed—if I’m right about your Wraith ability.” With that, he turned and went back into the bathroom.

I stayed put. Not because he told me, but because I was still focusing on not falling in a seated position.

When he came back, he had the washcloth again and a bowl of water. Setting it on the nightstand, he started moving the cool cloth up and down my arm, then moved it to my face, where he pulled my hair away and started wiping it all down.

I wanted him to stop because I felt twelve and helpless. But I was getting very light-headed and nearly fell back again. Jason was there and moved me into the bed.

“Please . . .” I managed to say. “I’m hot. Don’t put that quilt back on top of me.”

“I won’t,” he said, and continued to dip the cloth into the cold water and rub it over any exposed skin. “Breaking a fever like yours was hard. Just sit back and relax. Joe went to get you a glass of water with cucumbers.”

Jason laughed. “Don’t make that face. It’s good for you. And you need the liquid. You’re dehydrated.”

I watched him, again amazed at how incredibly beautiful he was. Oh, don’t get me wrong—when it came to beautiful men, I was surrounded by them to hear me talk. From Daniel’s boy-next-door look to Joe’s rugged manliness, all the way to Dags’s pretty-boy face.

But this—

This was a vampire. A First Born. A Revenant.

I cleared my throat as I watched him with droopy eyelids. “What happened?”

“To you? Or to me?”

“Both.”

“Well, for me”—he wiped my forehead one more time before setting the cloth in the bowl—“when Archer came at me, he initially stabbed me through the heart with a rod of rowan tree.”

“Apparently, when you pushed him through the back wall, he traveled to England and snatched a stake from a magic house over there. It hurt, and it did some serious damage to me, as in Jason. But as for ending my life?” He smiled. “Not yet.”

“But why did he try to kill you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that he was trying to kill me. It was more like”—he smiled—“sibling rivalry.”

I reached up with my left hand but couldn’t get to his chest. Reading my actions, he pulled up his shirt to expose a well-toned chest and a healing hole to the center right from my point of view. “I guess healing fast isn’t true about vampires?”

“Revenants.” He smiled. “It’s not my favorite word—but
First Born
has a pretentious ring to it, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t help but smile. He had a way about him. Something kinda sparkly in his eyes, and I was disappointed when he pulled his shirt back down. Lemme tell ya . . . the Revenant’s got a serious six-pack, ladies.

“I’ve glanced over the Dioscuri notes on us”—he gestured to himself—“and they’re vague at best. Your great-uncle wasn’t as curious about us as he was all the other little critters on the Abysmal plane.” Jason gave a short sigh. “I’ve already explained a lot of this to Nona, Rhonda, and Jemmy. Lex, of course”—he looked directly at me beneath his dark brows—“is forever in your debt. She felt Mialani’s release, as did I. Now, knowing that her companion is in a better place, she feels she can fight whatever this is that’s coming after us.”

As I rested there and watched him, the sweat on my body cooled, and I started shaking.
Meh. This totally sucks.
Jason stood and pulled the cover back up and handed it to me. “Sorry,” I said. “Body can’t seem to like hot or cold.”

“No, no.” He sat back down. “It’s perfectly normal. For you. Zoë, there are degrees to what I am. Abilities, strengths and weaknesses that all have to do with age. Age of the Symbiont and age of the host.”

I wasn’t really sure this was a good time for an episode of
Life as a Revenant
, but I was willing to do anything to keep him sitting there. And no, it wasn’t because he was nice to look at, or that I really needed to know what the fuck it was he and Lex were, but because I had every intention of getting out of him
when
it was he’d boinked my mom!

He looked in my direction for a bit, but not at me. I knew his mind was somewhere else, remembering something else. “When a Symbiont, or First Born, fuses, or merges, or joins—pick a word—with a human, body and soul—and I do mean soul—the human doesn’t gain all the benefits of becoming a Revenant all at once. It happens in stages and over time, as the Symbiont’s Abysmal essence changes the human body’s DNA. You grow stronger, more impervious to age and disease. You find you can do things—like jump higher than an average human. And the older you grow, the more you change, and the stronger the Symbiont becomes.”