Celebromancy (21 page)

“I’m alone, and even if you were still a fugitive, which you aren’t, I’d be tempted to mind-whammy you into coming over so I can tear off all your clothes that much faster.”

Gulp.
Jane was a good actress, but if Jane could dial in that much sultry without meaning it, Ree would eat a month-old croissant from Café Xombi.

Pack a teleport card just in case
, she thought, scratching her paranoia. She walked back to her room to the card supply and said, “I’m on my way. And thanks.”

“Think nothing of it, my raven-haired beauty. Be careful.”

Ree built herself an Escape-from-Cops sideboard with a couple of teleportations, some cards from
Netrunner
to beat a trace, and some kung fu from
Marvel VS
. for good measure. She slipped the sideboard into a breast pocket of her jacket, double-checked her basic disguise, and then headed out.

•   •   •

Ree managed to get across town on a bus without being cuffed, flagged down, or otherwise arrested, so by the time she got to the trailer camp, she was ready to accept the half-reassuring possibility that Jane had actually magic-ed the police off her trail.

It was only half-reassuring because, while it made one problem go away, Ree could guess how much magic it had taken to pull of something that big, and now it was going to be a matter of time before the other Gucci dropped. And if the Smokinator came back tonight, Ree didn’t like their odds, even with Danny, herself, and a troupe of mundane bodyguards.

One of said guards met her at the edge of the camp. He was a tall blond with a look that spoke to ancestors who’d gone a-Viking more than once. He held up a hand, giving her the once-over. “Hold on there, sir.”

“Sir, really?” The question came out more snippy than Ree intended. She double-checked her outfit and acknowledged that she wasn’t exactly exuding femininity at the moment—yes, short hair plus fedora—but it’s not like she’d strapped down or anything.

Ree softened her tone, pulled off her hat, and started again. “Ree Reyes, I’m the writer? Jane Konrad is expecting me.”

Ree let her brain narrate while the guard called someone on his phone.
Little did she know that it was not the police who would be the challenge but a none-too-perceptive hired guard. Intrepid adventurer Ree Reyes evaluated the statuesque sentry, gauging whether she would need to use the Five-Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique. Instead, she settled on the Indignant Name-Dropping Prana, hoping to spare the guard his life.

The guard put away his phone and nodded to Ree. “Go ahead, Miss. Sorry about the confusion.”

Stepping past the guard, Ree chewed up the pavement between the entrance and Jane’s trailer. If Jane was high on magic, who knew when the crash would come or how bad it would be. Ree had dated some potheads in college, but no one who more than dabbled in the hard stuff. The way Jane was hitting the Celebromancy was approaching full-on season six Willow, and Ree prayed that it wouldn’t come to the obelisk-of-death, save-the-world-with-broken-crayon story level. She’d always hated the magic-as-drug analogy, anyway, but judging from the curse, it seemed like Rachel MacKenzie didn’t share Ree’s aesthetic.

Ree saw Yancy duck out from under a tent and wave her down. He was wearing a tan suit and carried a leather briefcase.

“Ree, a second?” he asked.

She veered left and met Yancy at the tent.

“What’s up?”

Yancy set his bag down and checked over his shoulder. There was movement near the sets, but nothing nearby. “I need you to talk Jane down. She said she wouldn’t use her power except on the set, and only one take per shot. But when the police came . . .”

Ree nodded. “I got it. That’s why I came. Are you sure the cops won’t be back?”

Yancy gave a lopsided grin. “This isn’t the first thing we’ve covered up. The press is voracious, and sometimes it’s better for everyone involved that news doesn’t get the chance to spread.” He dropped the grin, and in stillness, he looked tired. “I hate to muck with people’s memories, and I get why she did it, but if Jane doesn’t dial things back, I’m going to lose control of this production. And at that point, I’ll have to pull the plug in order to protect everyone, you included.”

“I get it. Any tips? If she’s not listening to you . . .”

Yancy pursed his lips. “We need something to bring her back to Earth first, and then convince her to keep her eye on the long-term, not just the
I want it right now
short-term. She used to be good at that, but this curse has wrapped itself around her brain, and at a certain point she just starts ignoring me. I’m not her father, and I’m not going to take choices away from her unless she becomes a danger.”

Yancy took a breath, his face looking suddenly older. “Do something before it gets to that point.”

“I get it. If she blows me off, then we may have to get drastic. But let’s keep the doomsaying on hold for now, okay?” Ree said, as much for herself as for the director.

Yancy clapped Ree on the shoulder, and picked up his bag. “Good luck. I’m off for a meeting to get us a bit of wiggle room on the budget. Without more money, we could bring Jane back on track and still not have enough to pay for postproduction.” The director pursed his lips and thought a moment. He looked like he was about to say something else, but all that came out was “Good luck.”

Then he nodded to her and headed toward the parked cars.

No pressure, right?
Ree thought.

Dear Universe,

It has come to my attention that, of late, you appear to be fucking with me a lot more than usual. I’d like to formally request that only one of my jobs go kablooey at once.

If that is almost always my whacky Urban Fantasy life, so be it. In fact, that’d be preferable, since it’s easier to compartmentalize and keep my friends out of the epic-level danger. But when my urgent to-do list includes “go into work and get yelled at for failing to fight off a cloud of Pitch Black
monsters,” “navigate a love quadrangle with a superstar, one of my best friends, and the most useful magic ally I have,” and “talk down aforementioned superstar while she’s on a mana bender,” a girl can get a little overwhelmed.

Care to lend a hand?

Thanks,

Ree Reyes

B.A, M.F.A, G.E.E.K.

P.S. A simpler love life wouldn’t hurt, either. Not holding out for that one, though.

Ree gave the letter time to process and, fresh out of excuses and distractions, headed to Jane’s trailer. Danny sat on the couch, his baseball bat resting against the other corner. He looked only a bit less wrecked than Ree felt, though he’d changed since yesterday.

As soon as she registered Danny, Ree was nearly knocked off her feet by a glomp-attack from Jane.

“Hello, sailor!” Ree said as Jane found her footing, only to be cut off when the star locked her in a kiss. Her lips tasted like strawberries, and Ree let the concerns fall away for a moment, let her world narrow to the gorgeous woman who was nearly knocking her over with smooching.

Ree had never considered kissing as something that would call for a Reflex save. Ree kept her footing, but only because the two of them leaned into the wall of the trailer with a totally-not-subtle thud.

A breathtaking moment later, Ree disentangled herself from the star, who was, for some reason, wearing a metallic blue evening gown. It was, of course, gorgeous—a sleeveless over-the-shoulder number that had ruching where ruching should go to accentuate the bust, then hugged close around the waist to flare out down to her ankles.

“Damn . . .” Ree said, indicating the dress.

“You like?” Jane twirled like a Disney Princess. Except that Disney Princesses didn’t tend to make bedroom eyes while they twirled in their fairy-godmother-granted dresses.

“Hell yeah. Any reason why you’re wearing it on a Sunday afternoon?”

“Why not? I get these dresses for awards shows and premieres, and then I either send them back or they just sit in a wardrobe. I felt like hitting the glam button.”

And hit it she had—Jane had Broadway amounts of makeup on, though Ree got the sense that most of it was applied with a wand rather than a brush.

“It worked. But aren’t you throwing magic around a little blithe-tastically?”

“Hey, if I hadn’t done that whammy, you’d be getting a ride in a squad car, and the nicest clothes you’d be seeing in a while would be prison orange and a judge’s robe. Where’s the gratitude?”

Was Jane even in there? Or was it just the magic driving?

Ree reached out and grabbed Jane by the shoulders as gently as she could. “Of course I’m grateful. But I’m worried about you. I really don’t want to go another round with Smokey, and if you miss another day of shooting, Yancy says we’re fucked sideways with a rusty spade.”

“He didn’t say that,” Jane said, waggling a finger.

Great, now she’s five.
Things didn’t tend to go very well when Ree was the mature adult in a discussion.

“I embellished. Creative license, don’t you know.”

Jane laughed, a deep belly laugh.
Okay, that was funny, but maybe not
that
funny.

The whole scene took Ree back to her college days, complete with the totally sober friend in the corner who was embarrassed to be there, played this time by Danny.

Jane took Ree’s hand and started to lead her to the bedroom. Ree leaned back and stopped their movement. “Not now, Jane. If the curse works anything like it has before, this comedown is going to be killer . . . maybe literally.”

“You worry too much. If the comedown is the trouble, maybe I just won’t ever come down! I can just keep shooting until we’re wrapped, stay awake like in
A Nightmare on Elm Street
, and you can go and save the day, and then everything will be marvelous. See? No problem. Now come on.”

Ree reached out and grabbed Jane’s hand, locking the magic-drugged woman in her gaze. “Seriously, Jane. If you’re too stoned on magic to be reasonable, then I’m not going anywhere near a bed with you.”

Jane went to the naughty smile place. “That didn’t stop you before.”

“No, but this time I’m sober, and I didn’t know that a curse-induced Smokinator was gunning for you. Let’s sit down and talk this out, okay?”

Ree crossed to the couch and sat, patting the seat next to her. “We can do this. I need you with me, and I need you to focus.” Ree looked to Danny, raising her eyebrows to say
A little help?

Danny hopped up and helped corral the highly-distracted Jane to the couch.

Start from the beginning.
Jane might not be any help, but one thing Ree had learned so fast is that you never really knew with magic. Even the most rote procedures still had some built-in critical chance for win or embarrassing fail.

“Okay, so we need to get the curse lifted, and to do that, we either need to get Rachel to do it or figure out how to do it ourselves.”

“I tried that,” Jane said. “It sucked. Schemey glam bitch, sucks.”

Great, so she’s not even cogent.

Ree stood, went to the door, and leaned out of the trailer. She called, trying to mix urgency and politeness into a one-two punch. “Can we get some coffee in here, please?!”

She returned to the couch to see that Jane had splayed out, one leg showing through the tall slit.

What was I doing again?
she thought, her ears getting hot.

Focus. Sexytimes later.
Jane had the charm effects cranked to max, and Ree nearly had to push her chin up to take her eyes off of the line of the star’s legs, the movement of her breath, the crinkles at the edges of her eyes—

Not helping!

Ree sat on the far side of the couch, just past Jane’s head. She caressed the intoxicated woman’s hair with one hand and sent her smartphone coursing across the Internet with the other.

A quick visit to TMZ showed Ree that Rachel MacKenzie was spotted coming out of the Pearson Crown, the poshest hotel in town, where visiting dignitaries stayed for visits and where superstar surgeons held their conferences.

“Okay, so Rachel is staying at the Pearson Crown Hotel,” she said out loud, on the off chance that Jane would be useful or Danny would turn out to be a criminal mastermind.

Ree turned to Danny. “By the way, you don’t happen to be a criminal mastermind, by chance?”

Danny shook his head. “Kung fu, intimidation, and world-class drunk-sitting are the extent of my superskills. That and crocheting, but that’s probably not relevant.”

“Crochet, no shit?”

Danny shrugged. “My partner got me into it, and now my son has a small army of doilies.”

“You have a kid?” Ree asked.

“His little boy is so cute!” Jane said, leaning her head back in Ree’s lap to look her in the eye. “Soo cute!”

Danny smiled a genuine, unguarded smile. He stepped forward and tapped his phone a couple of times. The phone displayed a picture of a thoroughly unamused toddler being held by Danny and an equally-tired-but-proud-looking white guy with blond hair and a wide smile.

And for a moment, Ree forgot just enough about saving One Tough Mama, fighting monsters, and her magic-drunk kinda-girlfriend to say, “So cute!”

Just then, someone knocked on the door. Danny crossed, opened the door, and was handed a coffee. Danny handed the coffee to Ree, who squeezed Jane’s shoulder and said, “I got you some coffee. Doesn’t that sound like a great idea?” Ree tried to remember her ill-fated babysitting days, or at least, her half-successful interactions with the Blin twins, Luke and Leia.

Jane sat up and took the coffee cup in both hands. She took a sip, then a longer swig.

And if we’re lucky, that will help. If not, it’ll keep her preoccupied. Jeebus, if you’d like to help out and give me the sane and smart Jane back now, that’d be awesome.

Ree turned back to Danny. “What are their names?”

The bodyguard’s grin got wider. “My son is Jonathan. My husband is Laurence.”

“So Laurence takes care of him while you’re working? When do you get to see them?”