Read Online Soul Cage by Phaedra Weldon - Free Book Online Page A

the
years.
    Rhonda's apartment looked
as if it'd been decorated by Ozzy Osbourne. Black or gray wells
presented a backdrop to a large, black-stained fireplace in the
living room, flanked by faux skull carvings on the mantle. Dozens
of pictures hung on the walls, tucked inside of frames she'd either
bought or made. Nona noted all of them were of Rhonda and
Dags.
    The furniture looked as if
she'd robbed a props room in a Dracula movie. Gothic Heavy is what
Zoë called it once. She didn't like being in the apartments for
fear one of the stone gargoyles sitting on sconces in the corners
of the room would come to life and eat her head.
    Moving through the B-grade
movie decor, Rhonda lead them to the right down a hall that
branched into a small kitchen—all stainless steel—a bathroom with
black tile—to her bedroom. Nona was surprised the little witch
hadn't changed much in this room. The carpet was still beige with
soft blue walls. The sleigh bed was still there, covered in a thick
downy divan. Clothing decorated the floor, dresser and
bureau.
    Half burned and melted
candles littered every surface—much of the wax pooling on the
furniture and the floor. The room smelled of extinguished candle
and fried electrical wire.
    The smell of
magic.
    A sheet covered Dags a he
lay in bed. Sweat darkened his tee shirt over his chest and
underarms. His face and neck shined with moisture and he appeared
to be breathing heavy. Umayma immediately moved to his side and
placed a hand on his forehead.
    "He's burning up. I'll
call Jason and get Daren into the infirmary."
    "No." Rhonda's voice
wasn't loud but it was definitive.
    Nona focused on the room
more than Dags. The candles, the smell, and something sticking out
from under the bed beneath where he lay. She touched Umayma's
shoulder to let her know she was bending down behind her and
reached out for it.
    "What're you doing?"
Rhonda rushed forward to grab the object out of Nona's hand, but
Tel intercepted, grabbing Rhonda's wrist with lightning
speed.
    Nona recognized it
immediately as one of the pages from the Grimoire . She had seen enough of
them when Maureen scattered the book several months ago. The page
was blank like the others had been, though Nona knew if the page
was placed near the book, whatever was written on it would appear.
What caught her attention was the hole ripped into the paper just
above the lower right corner.
    She stood, holding it as
Jason and Joe came into the room. Tel had moved between Rhonda and
Nona.
    "Is that—" Jason pointed
to the paper. "Oh Jesus—Rhonda what did you do? Is that why he's
sick?"
    "Jason," Umayma tugged at
his jacket sleeve. "Get Darren out of here now."
    "Don't you dare touch
him!" Rhonda yanked her wrist out of Tel's grasp and turned as if
to strike Jason as he slipped past Umayma to get Dags out of the
bed. But another hand grabbed her wrist.
    Joe's hand.
"Rhonda—that's enough !" His fingers arc'd with a dazzling display of tiny
lightening.
    Nona moved out of their
way as Jason lifted Dags to his feet. He appeared dazed and a bit
disoriented, which made sense if he had a high fever. But as he
passed Nona his hand shot out and grabbed at the top of the
paper.
    "NO!" Rhonda
screamed.
    The paper instantly glowed
bright gold the moment he clasped the top of it. Sparkling dust
flowed up from the edges as a single hand written sentence flashed
in front of her—
    It's me,
Maureen.
    — and then vanished. It'd
been meant for her eyes only.
    She looked over the page
at Dags as he released the paper. His eyes were dulled and fevered.
Whatever had just happened, he wasn't aware of it.
    Was it
really…Maureen?
    "What is it? What
happened?" Jason said as he held Dags up, standing between Nona and
Rhonda who was struggling in Joe's hand. "Did the type show up? Can
you read it?"
    "No one can read
the Grimoire but
me and Dags," Rhonda said in a soft voice.
    "Rhonda," Nona said in a
very quiet voice. She was processing a lot of information. Most of
it