Beyond The Door

BEYOND THE DOOR

A Zoë Martinique Bridge
Novel

Phaedra Weldon

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Phaedra
Weldon

Hi.

It's me.

Uhm…I'm not sure if anyone's listening or not.
I just felt I needed to talk. I mean…I can talk. In this bubble.
Big dark bubble.

Well it's not
really
dark. I can see
things. I can see
them
. Looking back at me at times. They
pretty much leave me alone….cause I can't do much. But I know
they're there. I used to look back at them, thinking I'd see my
dad. But no. He's not there.

Oh…I just realized
you
might not know
who I am.

I'm Zoë Martinique. Or I was. I think I still
am. It's…it's been a while since I actually used that name. I'm a
Wraith, or was, might still be. Those on the other side tell me
after a while I'll grow strong if I surrender myself to them and
seal the borders. I honestly think they're full of shit.

I know when someone's lying. And let's face
it—I'm in the
Abysmal plane
. Duh? They're
all
lying.
I know this because they told me my friends were dead.

They said…Dags…was dead.

And Joe.

…
and Daniel.

But they're not. I can still hear them. Feel
them.

They all changed. Just like me

Dags is a
Grimoire
…my best friend shoved
a big freak'n magic book into his chest to save his life a while
back. Fused it to him. So now he's a book…or he's part of a book. I
think.

Joe…well Joe's just Joe. He's a cop. And a
witch. A lot like Rhonda. He just doesn't realize his magic's as
natural as they come. Instinctual. Boy couldn't build a magic
circle if he copied it out of a book—but he could sling a spell—if
he tried.

And there's TC. Or Azrael. That's his real
name—the last of the First Borns. The children of the first
Phantasm. He slept for a long time, under the power of the second
Phantasm, and then he woke when he touched me, and a whole shit
load of trouble came out of that.

TC's a creature of shadow and mayhem, but he
has a soul. Like nothing else in the Abysmal essence.

And Daniel…

My dearest Daniel changed the most. He's what
you'd call…a vampire now. They call themselves Revenants. A First
Born, Inanna, Azrael's sister, bonded her essence to his and saved
his mind, and his body. And now he's immortal in a sense. He's a
part of something greater.

They're all still there. They didn't
die.

Mom. Rhonda. And even Jemmy.

Jason's around, but I don't see him
enough.

Oh…see. Right, right.

I can
see
.
Them
. In dreams when I
sleep. But sometimes the sleeping and the waking get confused. I
know they're trying hard to find a way to get to me but come on.
It's been how long since my father betrayed me and offered me—his
only child—as the Phantasm's replacement?

It's been two months. Or has it been
three?

Four?

What am I talking about? Keep up. I'm the big
bad now.

The third Phantasm of the Abysmal plane—is
me.

Zoë.

What's it like to be Queen? Not so great. It's
probably like getting all excited to mary the King of England and
then find out you have an allowance and you can't actually make any
changes. You can only dress nice, wave, show up at parties and
never talk to the press.

It sucks royal fucking ass.

I want out. More than I want anything else. But
I can't get out. There's no door. There are times when I'm
drifting, and I can feel them. Feel Joe, and TC, Daniel and Rhonda,
and Dags.

My dear Dags…

And I can sometimes see them, and hear them,
and look at the world I belong to with their eyes.

Because I don't dare actually take a look at
where
I
am, or what I look like.

I'm too freak'n scared too.

But I'm here…waiting. With no human voice but
my own.

I wanted my daddy to love me.

He betrayed me.

I want my life back.

I want to go home.

I want my mom.

To hold me.

Please…

Someone
…

Three Months After Zoë's
disappearance...

DETECTIVE
Joe Halloran leaned slowly to
his right, moving his line of sight from behind the corner of a
brick building to the group of men standing outside the Buckhead
Diner. The diner itself had a reflective surface and blew back any
light into binoculars and gun-sites. It was just after ten o'clock
p.m. on a Wednesday, and he knew this wasn't a group of church
goers settling in for after worship snacks.

No, the two men on the right in the expensive
black suits and severe haircuts were locals, part of a gang of
white collar thieves. The two on the left, both Asian in light
colored suits, were part of a newer gang operating out of Chamblee,
a suburb of North Atlanta. Chamblee was known for its large Asian
population. Separate, the set of pairs hadn't accomplished much
except the occasional bullying for money.

But together these two were responsible for a
little girl's death near Chamblee Park. And Joe really hated it
when kids were caught in the crossfire. He hated the perps more for
actually firing a gun around children.

People like that? Waste of skin. No use for
them.

Yeah he could in theory sick
things
on
them—unspeakable things. He'd found that little talent useful in
the past three months. But he liked going after them himself. Liked
the collar. Liked watching them squirm.

His partner, Mastiff, stood on the opposite
side of the street behind an opposing building. They wore small ear
devices that allowed them to communicate in
whispers. 

"Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"It's been forty minutes," Mastiff said.
"They're just…talking."

"They'll do it. I swear."

"How do you know that?"

How did he know? Joe pursed his lips.
Because I've got a vampire and a firstborn symbiont in my
pocket.
No. That just didn't seem like it would go down too
good. Yeah Mastiff had been exposed to the weirdness that had
become of Joe's life after meeting Zoë, but Joe still wasn't sure
he wanted to throw the guy into the deep end.

Not yet anyway.

"It might not come from them," he said softly,
and never took his eyes from the foursome. "Might come from
somewhere else. Either way…just be prepared."

A black Cadillac turned the corner down the
street in front of Joe. It started up the road, the passenger's
side window rolling down as it slowed when it passed the four of
them.

This is it!

Abruptly a piece of parchment paper, scuffed,
torn and crumpled appeared in front of his face and a familiar deep
voice followed. "I got it! Look at that—I told you I knew where
they went. Fuckers were gonna burn it—but I stopped them. Can I get
a 'you are the fucking greatest?'"

"Halloran!" came Mastiff's voice through the
earpiece just as gunshots fired in front of them.

Only Joe couldn't see anything because he had a
huge, bald, freak'n Symbiont standing in front of him.

Archer, aka TC, aka Trench Coat, aka Azrael,
was a tall fucker, because he
chose
his visible form to be
so. He also liked the idea of looking like Vin Diesel because it
"made the ladies take notice" way too often.

When the three of them had decided to help Dags
and go find the Wraith, Azrael took the mission to heart the
hardest. He hated Ethereal anything. And when Zoë was not only
betrayed by an Ethereal—but her father? Getting even became his
personal vendetta. His own father had been betrayed by his oldest
sister. So Azrael had plunged head first into the fray to find the
pages on his righteous mission.

Joe cursed under his breath and shoved Azrael
out of the way before giving commands into his mic. He looked to
see one of the Asian men still on the ground as the others stood,
pulled weapons from their coats and turned in the direction the car
went. It sped away, turned right down a road and disappeared. He
didn't even get a good look at the license plate! Joe spoke into
his mic as he ran. "Dispatch this is Halloran— we need a bus—" he
gave out the address and stopped just long enough to flash his
badge and tell people to stay back. One of them said he was a
doctor and Joe motioned him to take a look. He jogged a few feet
down the road before Mastiff was in his ear.

"They got the car, Halloran. About two blocks
over. It hit a kid—"

Joe stopped, out of breath, and bent
down. 
A kid? Aw man…son of a —

"—but the kid's just fine. Wow…I think those
guys need some serious break time."

"Wait," Joe straightened and started jogging
back to where the suit was down and the by-stander doctor was
looking him over. Three other black and whites and an unmarked car
pulled up. He heard the sound of a siren. The other suited men were
long gone. "They hit a kid with a car and the kid's
fine?"

"Apparently it never touched him, Halloran. But
Mezziner's insisting the front end is all buckled up like it hit
the side of a building."

Joe sighed as he stopped and lowered his head.
"Front of the car's mangled but the kid's all right?"

"Yeah. You're right. They need a break. I'm
calling in events—" and Mastiff came jogging up beside
him.

Joe watched the E.M.T. guys scramble from their
van and converge on the downed businessmen. He knew what'd
happened—
something
had gotten between the kid and the car—an
immoveable object.

Daniel.

Azrael walked up from the side of the street,
still dressed in his black shirt, jeans and trench coat. No one
seemed to notice him. And Joe knew if the First Born didn't want to
be seen by humans, he wouldn't be. "Daniel's nearby."