The Mephisto Mark: The Redemption of Phoenix (30 page)

Zee knocked, the door opened, and a blond guy almost as big as us smiled at my brother. “Zeenose, my man, glad you could make it. We got a surprise for you.”

“Hey, Kel.” Zee returned the fist bump the guy gave him. “I hate surprises.”

While Kel laughed, w
e stepped inside and the door closed behind us.

“This is my brother, Phoenix.”

Humans were typically afraid of us and I was a bit bemused that Kel didn’t seem the slightest bit anxious. I shook the guy’s hand, then he pretty much forgot me as he led Zee through the trunks, cases and miles of cord crowding the narrow space backstage. “John got himself a new bird,” Kel said. “She’s British, and so hot, but man, wait ‘til you hear her voice, and she’s righteous on keyboard. Funny story. She’s a concert pianist and has been since she was like ten. Kind of a prodigy. Anyway, she bugged out from a performance in New York and went to see Arcadia at Blackbriar. John asked her to play for him, and the audience went nuts, so he talked her into joining the band.”

“She
abandoned her career to play in a band?”

Kel shot Zee a look. “She’s kind of different, if you know what I mean.”

We were now stopped at a door, which I assumed led to the dressing rooms and practice studio. Zee said, “No, I don’t know what you mean. Different like mentally challenged?”

Kel glanced at me, almost
as if he wished I wasn’t there, then lowered his voice and said to Zee, “Like skating close to batshit.”

“
Most musicians are batshit.”

“True, but she’s just . . . different. You’ll see. Come on and see John and meet her.” He opened the door and wa
lked into a narrow hallway.

We followed and I whispered to Zee, “
Should I go out front?”

“No
, stay with me.”

Kel stopped at a door, knocked twice, then opened it and waved us inside. This was the practice studio, which also served as a
green room, a place to hang out before the club’s evening line-up began. Arcadia was headlining, but another band would play a few sets first, and that meant a lot of people in the room. All guys, some with long hair, some with short hair, some with no hair, all with tats and piercings and grunge clothes. Some held a beer, some were tossing back shots, a couple were sharing a joint, and a few were drinking Gatorade.

The exception sat at an upright piano and played Mozart, her back to us, her unbound hair long and
golden blond with a slight curl. It reminded me of Jane. I glanced at Zee and realized he hadn’t seen her yet. He was talking to John, lead guitarist of Arcadia, about geek computer stuff. John had been a doctoral candidate at MIT who had a garage band that went viral, and now here he was, touring the country and Europe instead of becoming a professor. But once a computer geek, always a geek, and Zee was as much an over-the-top tech nerd as the best of them.

“I want you to meet
Euri,” John said, nodding toward the blonde. “She’s amazing, and dude, she writes code like a poet.”

Zee glanced her way. “Her name is
Yuri? That’s like a Russian guy name.”

“
Her parents had the bad judgment to name her Euripides, and she goes by Euri.”

The piece she played ended on a somber note, and she stayed w
here she was until it faded. A few of the guys clapped, and one of them said, “Holy shit, that was gorgeous.”

Turning on the piano bench,
she stood and walked toward us.

I was
instantly dizzy, blinking rapidly, my heart rate accelerating so fast, I began to sweat.

Dressed in
a shimmery pale pink über short dress with no sleeves and a pair of black heels taller than the Empire State Building, she was graceful, refined and elegant. Her legs went right up to her neck. Her eyes were cornflower blue in a perfect, beautiful face. She looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of
Town & Country
, like she rode polo ponies and sipped champagne cocktails at the country club.

Except she had a tattoo of a question mark on her right forearm
, a tiny diamond stud in her nose, and streaks of pink in the long, blond hair framing her face.

She had the glow of the Anabo.

And she looked exactly like Jane.

It wasn’t a resemblance. It was as if Jane had come back to life, slipped into modern clothes, and walked into our lives again.

I have no idea how I didn’t pass out. I shot a look at Zee and I knew . . . I
knew
she was for him, just as Jane had been. Outwardly, he looked cool and collected, unlike my sweaty hot mess of gobsmacked disbelief.

I kept repeating
What the fuck?
in my head, over and over.

She reached us and John made introductions, but she never
spared even a glance for me, or John. She was completely focused on Zee. “Have we met?” she asked in a soft, cultured voice. British. Christ, she even sounded like Jane.

“No.”

“You’re very familiar. Why are you wearing a diamond in one ear? Did you lose the other one? Or is this from your girlfriend, like in The Breakfast Club, and she’s wearing the other one right now and thinking of you?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“That’s unfortunate for every other girl in the world, but extremely marvelous for me.” She stepped closer to him and despite her height, even in the shoes, she still had to look up at him. “You smell like hot cross buns, delicious and yeasty. How peculiar.”

Zee’s nostrils flared and I knew he caught her scent. I wondered
if she smelled like the ocean? He didn’t say anything, however. Just stared at her with absolutely no expression on his face. He was almost as good at that as Mariah. The only indication of his inner thoughts was a tiny twitch at the corner of his eye.

“
Why is your name a letter?”

If I searched the world to find a female version of Zee, I’d wind up at Euri. She had that same odd way of peppering a person with questions that were just a shade too bold not to be rude. Blunt, without artifice of any kind.

“It’s short for Xenos.”

“Which is Greek for crazy
and mixed up. Are you crazy?”

“
Chances are excellent. Most crazies don’t realize their shortcomings.”

“I’ve been told I’m one note short of a symphony. I have dreams, sometimes when I’m not sleeping. Music fixes it.”
She smiled. “Do you play?”

“Yes.”

“What do you play?”

“Everything.”

“No one can play everything. I think you’ll need to demonstrate.”

He stepped back and said, “I
think I need to leave.” Without a goodbye, he turned and walked out.

Well, hell.

I said to John, “I’m sorry. He’s . . .”

John nodded. “I know. It’s okay.”

I looked once more at Euri, who was staring at the open door. I freaked out all over again at how much she looked like Jane. “He’s not usually rude,” I lied. “It’s just that he—”

“
No need to apologize for him. I understand. He’s shy, and awkward, and I frightened him. But he’ll be back. He can’t not come back.”

I met John’s gaze and he lifted one brow in an age-old gesture that meant,
I have no clue what she’s talking about.

I knew. In those
few brief moments, that indefinable connection was made between Anabo and Mephisto, and no matter how far he ran, or where she wound up in the world, they’d find their way back to each other. How Euri knew that was anybody’s guess. Maybe she knew things the way Zee knew things.

My head exploded with possibilities. I couldn’t let him run away from her.

I mumbled goodbye, and followed Zee out the door. I found him outside, in the alley, watching the lovers have a post-coital make out session. “Unfuckingbelievable,” he said as soon as I came outside to stand next to him.

“I assume you’re talking about Euri and not that girl’s ass, which has gotta be rubbed raw from those bricks.”

“We need to call a war room meeting with our father. We need to find out what he’s up to. In nine hundred years, we found only one Anabo. Now, in less than two years, we’ve found four. And how coincidental is it that tonight, of all nights, we meet Euri? He’s jacking with us, Phoenix. And I have to wonder if Lucifer is aware, because if he isn’t, if M is interfering, this could end badly.”

“How could M have anything to do with it? Anabo come from God. Last time I checked, M and God aren’t golf buddies.”

“I don’t know. That’s the point. I think we should ask him and make him tell us what’s going on.”

“Or, we could not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“What are the odds she’d walk into my life tonight? What are the chances she’d be crazy like me?” He looked at me. “What the fuck?”

“I don’t know, brother. Let
’s go inside, I’ll have a whiskey, we’ll see her with the band, and we’ll talk about it.”

“What’s to talk about? I’m just as wack as I was when I found Jane. Nothing
’s changed.”

“It appears she may be as wack as you are. Maybe she’s what you need, Zee. If anyone could
understand you, maybe it’s her. You’ll never know if you don’t try. Come on, have some faith. Let’s go see her sing, and you can think about your next move.”

Once again, he blew my mind. Looking me right in the eye, he said solemnly, “The last thing I need is a head case like me. Not interested.
The more I think about it, the more I think maybe Mariah and I would be good together. Coming from her background, she may be the only Anabo I’ll ever find who could survive me. So you do what you have to do to release your claim, and count me in. I’ll win. She already likes me.” He glanced at the couple, who were about to go at it again, and said in a loud voice, “For fuck’s sake, man, get a damned hotel room.”

Then he disappeared, and I was left staring at the guy, who of course thought I
was the one who told him to get a room.

He let go of the girl, who scrambled to pull her panties back on, and headed for me
while he zipped his jeans, fury in his eyes.

I should have left.

I didn’t.

And that guy did get a room, but not in a hotel. I didn’t leave until I heard the ambulance the girl had called.

Chapter 16

~~ Mariah ~~

I was in the little cabin, sitting on the big rocker.
Beet was curled up just in front of a cheery fire in the hearth, and across from me, in the smaller rocker, a petite dark haired woman with olive skin and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen was crying. She was a female version of Zee. This had to be the Mephisto’s mother, Elektra.

This could not get any more weird.

I knew I was dead. I just couldn’t figure out why I was in this cabin with Elektra, a woman who lived a thousand years ago, but was dressed in holey jeans and a Woodstock T-shirt. Woodstock? Okay, it could get weirder. Was this Heaven? If so, I was disappointed. I’d expected something more beautiful. Certainly more spacious. Spending eternity in this tiny room wasn’t my idea of Heaven.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered,
ineffectually waving her hand in front of her face, as if that would dry her tears. “I’m the angel, Mary Michael. I’ve been visiting you in your sleep since you were very young. Because it’s difficult for Anabo to live in a dark world, God sent me to be a help to you.”

Mary Michael? Why? Her name was Elektra, which I thought rocked. Why did she have to change her name to be an angel? But I didn’t ask because I was more curious about the little cabin.
“Do we come here for our visits?”

“Yes.”

No wonder this was where I mentally escaped. “I appreciate the thought, but if I never remembered you, how were you a help? You know I was abused, tortured, and raped, right?”

She cried harder and nodded.

“And no matter that I supposedly don’t have Original Sin, I hated him so much I made no move to save him from death. Maybe the church has it wrong, but they teach that it’s a sin to hate, no matter the provocation. So while it’s real nice that you brought me here for cozy chats in my sleep, it didn’t change that I hated him, and it sure didn’t make my life suck any less hard. I don’t mean to be critical, but maybe it would have been more help if you’d gotten me out of there.”

Softly, she said,
“I did.”

I was surprised.
“Are you saying you took him down?”

“He was going to kill you.”

“What about free will? Does that not apply to angels? Can you kill people because they’re bad?”

“
I didn’t kill him. He had a stroke. He may have been helped along when I visited him, because he was very disturbed to see an angel in his room, but his death was not by my hand. He was in bad health, and nature will have her due. I wish it could have been sooner, but it wasn’t. I did my best for you, Mariah, and now . . .” She swiped at her tears and sat up straighter. “I’m going to do the right thing for you.”

“You’re their mother, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

“Do you visit them in their sleep?”

“No, I’m not allowed to see them. Just the Anabo.”

“Are you the one who’ll take me to
Heaven?”

“If you wish to go, yes, I’ll take you there
, but I’m hoping you’ll go back. Eryx is trying to bring you back.”

I was even more surprised.
“Can he do that? There seems to be a lot of confusion as to who can bring an Anabo back to life.”

“
Because of their immortality and the blood of Mephistopheles, any of them can bring an Anabo back, even if she’s already begun her change to Mephisto, even if she’s marked.”

“Then why
did Phoenix fail with Jane?”

Fresh tears spilled over and rolled down her smooth cheeks. “She lost Anabo.”

“How? Why?”

“Eryx convinced her the Mephisto were lying to her. He reminded her that Phoenix killed her twin, and even though
Georgiana had given her soul to Eryx, it didn’t mean she had to die.”

Now I knew what happened to the twin in the photographs.

“Jane was extremely attached to her sister, as most twins are, and part of her was always afraid of Phoenix, because she felt her sister’s fear.”

“Did
Jane pledge her soul?”

“No, but she wavered in her faith. She was confused and in so much pain. She wanted to believe she could still save her twin, and Eryx made her believe he cared, that he isn’t the monster his brothers made him out to be. He told her if she was no longer Anabo, she could ask Lucifer’s h
elp in getting her sister back from Hell on Earth, give her a chance to reclaim God and be sent to Heaven instead.”

“So she chose her sister over Phoenix.”
That made me sadder for Phoenix. Had she instinctively known he wasn’t meant for her? I wanted to know more. I wanted to know why Phoenix left her alone that night.

“
Jane was a perfect storm, Mariah. So many things happened when she was found, and not all of them good. I’ll say no more. Just know that she’s in Heaven now and happy. More, I think, than if she’d stayed.”

“Maybe I’ll be happier in Heaven than if I stay. Life so far hasn’t been
anywhere close to easy, and going back to Eryx will be extremely dodgy. He’ll never let me return to the Mephisto. I’ll be with him forever.”

She shook her head.
“I’m certain he’ll take you back to that pub. He won’t do anything to anger Jordan, and he really believes you’ll join her when she is with him, and he’s convinced she will be.”

“Why would he
believe that? It’s stupid, and from all I’ve learned about him, he’s nowhere close to stupid.”

“He’s obsessed with Jordan, and a lot of what he’s doing now is in direct opposition to what he’s done for over a thousand years. No one saw this coming, Mariah, least of all me. It makes me wonder if he’s not as lost as we thought.”

“Not calling you a liar, but let’s be honest. You would naturally think so and give him the benefit of doubt because you’re his mother.” I got up from the chair and wandered to the shelves, but couldn’t move the box I wanted to look inside. It was one of three I hadn’t inspected when I was here earlier.

“You have no form, Mariah. You’re a spirit, unable to move things.”

It was dark outside, but the moon was full, shining on the blanket of snow in the clearing outside the little cabin. I looked out at it and wondered why some people’s lives went according to plan while others, like mine, were constantly changing course. “If I go back, I’ll be immortal, which means I’ll be Mephisto forever, won’t I?”

“Yes, but it’s not a bad thing, is it? I
think by joining them, doing what they do, you’ll finally come into your own.”

“I don’t want to kill people, no matter that they’re lost souls. What does that mean, anyway? It seems extremely harsh that a person can’t recover from a mistake, even one that takes them away from God. I haven’t felt all that close to God in a long time. I only pray when I’m afraid.” I turned away from the window and frowned. “I really wish you’d stop crying. It’s making me feel bad. I get that you’re upset that my life sucked, and now I’m dead, but if you’re supposed to help, I don’t think crying ab
out it will make any difference.”

She stood and dried her eyes and said, “You’re right, and I’m sorry. Come take my hand. We’re going to see some things.”

I hesitated. What kind of things? I was at least ninety percent leaning toward telling her to take me to Heaven. The ten percent was only because of Phoenix, and even for him, I didn’t know if going back was worth it. He had become my friend, had been nothing but wonderful, and I was infatuated with him, but how well did I really know him? I remembered how he’d acted the night I arrived on the mountain, the side I’d seen of him that wasn’t friendly or nice. He was a wild child waiting to get out, and did I really want to be there when he did? Not just there, but
with
him. Stuck for all eternity.

I really wished Eryx hadn’t stabbed me and I wasn’t dead. I needed more time.

“We don’t have much time, Mariah.” Mary Michael seemed far less weepy now, and much more commanding. Like a mother.

I went to her and took her hand.

I expected her to take me to see a few lost souls, or a Skia, to illustrate how awful they were for mankind, to convince me of the need to take them out.

The level of my mistaken thoughts was staggering.

She took me to a place devoid of humanity, a dark, horrific freak show.

She
took me to Hell on Earth.

“You
see your life as a long succession of tragedies, of terrible luck and helplessness, but what doesn’t kill you makes you strong. You’re a compassionate, intuitive soul who was forced to see the underbelly of man because of the sacrifice you made for your sister. I asked to show you this and was allowed because ironically, of all the Anabo, you are the one who will be most affected, and the only one who can withstand what you see. Eryx and the Mephisto believe Jordan is strong. She is, but not like you, Mariah. No one has ever been here and returned to the living. None of my sons, no other Anabo, none other than Lucifer has ever seen this place.”

“And you,” I whispered, gripping her hand with all my might.

“And me. Look around you and know this is nothing like where Mephistopheles carries souls entrusted to Lucifer. Hell is for penance, and all who wind up there are regretful. They yearn for a return to God, to light and kindness. Those who give their souls to Eryx and are captured by the Mephisto are here, and they are not repentant. They’re angry. Lost to God. Lost to humanity. These are the souls you believe you can’t kill. These are the souls you think you can save.”

We stood
high on a ledge in a huge cave, dimly lit by small spots of orange and red scattered across the walls, which seemed to breathe, in and out, in and out.

“This is deep within the Earth, where
some rock is liquid. Lucifer formed these caves not long after Eryx began collecting souls, and it’s his will that keeps the walls from collapse, his spirit that holds the souls within. If you had form, you’d be too hot to live. Those who believe in Hell think this is what it is. This is the fire and brimstone so beloved by those who seek to frighten humans into submissive faithfulness. There are other abscesses in the Earth linked to this one. They are all the same, filled with desperation and rage.”

A
teeming mass of people shuffled along the floor of the cave, wandering endlessly. “Why are there no bodies? Don’t the lost souls die when they are sent here?”

“They
are sustenance to the Skia.”

If I wasn’t only a spirit, I know I would have thrown up.

“They fight over the lost souls’ bodies, and kill each other again and again, but always revive. For the Skia, there is no death.” She looked at me. “If the Mephisto are successful, this is what Eryx gives to those who believe him and renounce their faith in God. None but Eryx’s followers wind up here. You can’t see all the spirits of the dead in this room, but they are here, and they are legion. If Eryx is vanquished, they’ll have one last chance at redemption and Heaven. Those who don’t make it here before they die are eternally lost, their souls absorbed by Eryx to increase his strength.”

“And the Skia?”

“They give him their souls when they become immortal. They’re robots who do his bidding with no will of their own. This is a horrible place, and the Skia exist in abject misery, but the lost souls are better off here than dying within humanity. At least this place gives them some hope, however small, and however much they don’t deserve it. Yes, it’s harsh, but they always pledge with their eyes wide open, well aware of what they’re doing.”

“Why do they do it? I don’t understand why someone would do it.”

“They turn their back on God for many reasons, but the heart of their motivation is always the eternal search for worth. People want to be worthy, they want to feel important and special. They’ll go to extreme lengths to get it, even handing their soul to Eryx. They don’t recognize the irony until it’s done, that worthiness comes from within, and no amount of props from others will ever fill the void. They could find peace and ease if they stopped trying so hard, because God gives every man dignity. Eryx gives them lies.”

I couldn’t st
op staring at the Skia below. They were old and young, every race, male and female, tall and short. They were all naked and skeletally thin. Hungry. I knew what it was to be hungry. They looked up when the earth rumbled and I saw hope in their blistered, sweaty faces. When nothing happened, when no lost soul came hurtling into the cave, they resumed shuffling. Fights broke out occasionally, vicious and bloody, but worst of all, in an area closest to the wall with the least light, females screamed in agony and I didn’t have to look to know what was happening to them.

I couldn’t stop crying.

I couldn’t stop my heart breaking.

“
Life is all about choices. We can’t always control what happens to us, but we have a choice in how we live through it and who we are. You’re here right now because God chose you to be Anabo, because you sacrificed yourself for Jordan, because you are one of those rare people who have compassion even for those who choose evil.”

“That’s not true. I never felt
sorry for Emilian.”