The Lost Gate (18 page)

“Not
Mister
Stone,” said Ced. “Just Stone. It's his first name. Maybe his only name.”

“It's a translation,” said Lana. “Of the unpronounceable name his parents gave him in their native language.”

At the mention of languages, Danny perked up. “What language?” he asked.

“Amazian,” she said. “Amazon? No, that's the online bookstore. Umbilical?”

“She doesn't know.” Ced handed the joint to her.

“Not now,” said Lana.

Ced shrugged and kept the joint, though he didn't light it.

“Why do you want Stone's advice?” asked Lana.

“I figured he's lived in DC for a while, he could steer us to a neighborhood where we're likely to find small expensive things lying around where guys like me and Danny here can find them.”

“You don't have to ask Stone,” said Lana. “Where are you
from
? Everybody knows you're looking for Georgetown.”

“I thought that was a college,” said Eric.

“University,” said Lana. “It's also a ritzy neighborhood. Or you could go out to Chevy Chase, Maryland. Basically, go west, and the incomes go up. I assume you expect to find these expensive things lying around
inside
people's houses?”

“I think we'd have better luck there,” said Eric.

Danny was appalled that Eric was just telling their business to strangers. How did he know that none of these people would tell the cops?

“Your little friend thinks you shouldn't be talking about your criminal conspiracies,” said Lana.

Eric looked at Danny. “He's still not completely into it,” he said. “But he can't help it—he's so good at it that he just can't stop. Talent is destiny.”

“Good at what, exactly?” asked Lana.

“Getting into locked places,” said Eric.

“How does he do it?” she asked.

“I make a wish,” said Danny. He knelt on the floor and started looking through magazines on the coffee table. Anything to distract Eric. It didn't work, though.

“It's magic, all right,” said Eric. “He doesn't touch the doors or windows. He doesn't leave footprints or fingerprints. He just
appears
inside the house.”

Danny hated this. “Eric, come on, stop it.”

“Don't get so upset, or she's going to start
believing
you can do magic,” said Eric.

“Oh, I believe it,” said Lana. “He has the look of magic about him.” Suddenly she was off the sofa and kneeling in front of him. She was so close he could feel her breath on his face and he felt like she was a quarter of an inch from pushing her chest against his. He wanted to turn back to the coffee table but if he did, then
he'd
bump into
her,
and that might look like he was making some kind of pass at her.

“Come on, Danny,” she said. She put her hands on his shoulders. “Do some magic for me.”

“Leave him alone, Lana, he's a kid,” warned Ced.

“Jailbait? He's jailbait?” asked Lana. She brought her face very close to Danny's and locked her arms around his waist. Now her breasts were pressed against him and her breath was right in his nose and mouth and her lips were brushing his as she talked. “Jailbait boy, why aren't you kissing me yet?”

Danny pulled away from her, but since he was on his knees it's not like he could have done anything but rock backward. Which was apparently what she was counting on, because she basically rode him down onto the carpet. In a moment she was pinning his shoulders to the floor with her hands, but since his knees were still folded under him, his body was arched, with his pelvis at the apex. The pertinent fact, however, was that she was straddling him, and he was feeling things that he'd never felt before. The only girls he knew were his cousins, whom he'd been raised with. They were like sisters. Less than sisters, since he knew them well and also despised them. Lana was not his sister, and he didn't despise her, he was incredibly fascinated with her and what she was making him feel. Yet with every movement of her body under the white shirt, he was also feeling more frightened. What kind of magic was
this,
that worked on people instead of animals or plants or the elements? Was this the forbidden “manmagic” that was only whispered about?

“Come
on,
” said Eric. “I didn't bring him here to catch whatever disease you're carrying.”

She turned the upper half of her body so she could give him some kind of withering glare. Danny couldn't see her face, but with the twisting of her body she let up on his shoulders and he propped himself up on his elbows. Almost at once he wished he hadn't, because seeing how her body pressed on his intensified everything he was feeling to the point where he was getting light-headed.

“Like what you see?” asked Lana.

“He doesn't even know what he's seeing,” said Eric.

“He doesn't have to
know,
” she said. “I'm the only one who has to know.” She knelt up higher, reached behind and between her own thighs, snaked her fingers into Danny's waistband on both sides, and started to pull down his pants and underwear.

Danny was so surprised and scared that he cried out and tried to scramble backward on his elbows. But that only helped her pull down on his pants and instead he wriggled the other way, toward her. It kept his pants on.

“Help me get her off him before she rapes him,” said Eric to Ced. Eric hooked her under one armpit and had her halfway up before Ced joined in on the other side.

“You boys will just have to wait your turn,” she said. But in a moment they had her up and off of Danny.

“Pull your pants up,” said Eric with withering scorn.

“I'm trying,” said Danny. But in fact she hadn't pulled his pants down very far at all, and it occurred to him that maybe she had never intended to, that maybe what she really wanted was what she was getting right now—Ced pushing her roughly out of the room.

“I'm the boy's education,” she was saying, with a giggle. “He got a scholarship to my private school!”

Ced had her out of the room. Danny could hear him say, more sadly than angrily, “Sometimes you just got no judgment, Lana.”

Danny was relieved when she was gone. And disappointed. But definitely more relieved than disappointed.

“Who
is
she?” asked Eric, as Ced returned to the living room. “A one-woman government welfare program for the horny?”

“She's my wife,” Ced replied. He sighed. “But don't feel sorry for me. She was like this before I married her.”

“Then why did you bother?” asked Eric.

“Believe it or not, she's a lot calmer now than she used to be.”

Then, to Danny's surprise, he heard a woman crying in another room. “Is that…”

“Yeah, it's her,” said Ced. “Now she's totally ashamed and filled with self-hatred and all, so I get to spend the next hour or two talking her out of jumping into the Potomac or volunteering to be a suicide bomber for Greenpeace or PETA.” Ced padded back out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Eric flopped onto the couch and laughed silently, rolling around as if he were screaming instead of stifling it.

“I don't think it was funny,” said Danny.

“That's because you couldn't see your face.”

“I don't want to stay here,” said Danny. “What if she tries that again while we're sleeping?”

“See?” said Eric. “You're already fantasizing about it.”

“No I'm not, I'm—”

“You're about ready to explode,” said Eric. “She was just teasing you, don't you get it? Because you're so young and a virgin.”

Ced and Lana came back into the room. Lana was smiling shyly and wearing some kind of athletic shorts now that stuck out below the hem of the shirt. “I'm sorry,” she said. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, but Danny thought she had stopped awfully quickly, if the tears were all that real.

“Don't worry about it,” said Eric. “Danny's from the farm, he just wasn't used to doing it with girls.”

Danny had no idea what that meant, but it set Lana and Ced to laughing and Danny was pretty sure they were laughing at him. “What are you talking about?” Danny asked.

“You and the sheep, of course,” said Eric. “Come on, you can't tell me you didn't get some quality time with that special ewe.”

Danny's face was burning now with shame and rage. “That's not—that's not even
possible,
” he said.

“I think that means he's done it a lot,” said Eric, still laughing. “But she broke up with him.”

Danny was thinking of how the beastmages would react if anybody in the Family did such a thing to one of the animals. “Animals are—they're looked after, they—if one of us did something like that, Grandpa Gyish would have him killed. Great-uncle Zog would do it himself.”

They laughed right through what he was saying. But when he was done, they stopped laughing and just stared at him.

“Really?” asked Lana softly. “Your own family would…?”

“And then they'd bury him in the family graveyard on Hammernip Hill,” said Danny.

“That's just … sick,” said Lana.

“It's a crime,” said Ced. “It's abuse. Worse than abuse, it's
murder.
”

“Calm down,” said Eric. “He didn't say they've ever done it, he said they
would
do it if somebody started humping the sheep. Come on, this has all gotten so totally out of hand. I didn't bring him here to be sexually molested. He's so underage that you could find yourself with a sex-crimes rap.”

“I wasn't going to
do
it,” said Lana.

“You were already
doing
it,” Ced corrected her. “You were way past
going-to
or
not-going-to
.”

“Can we please just go somewhere else, Eric?” asked Danny. It wasn't because he feared further approaches from Lana. It was because he was now completely ashamed of the way they all regarded him—as a joke instead of a person. And also very worried about how much he had said about the Family. He had even told them Zog's and Gyish's names. Why didn't he just give them a printout of Google Maps directions to the compound while he was at it? All he wanted now was to get away.

“Lighten up,” said Eric. “Come on, if you didn't like it on some level, you would have just … left, wouldn't you?”

Danny didn't know what was worse—that Eric was once again talking about Danny's gatemagic in front of these two strange people, or that Eric was kind of right. Why
hadn't
he just made a gate and gone through it? Of course, with their bodies in contact, Danny might have taken Lana with him right through the gate. That would have gotten her to stop.

But that was not why he hadn't made a gate and left. It just hadn't crossed his mind. He didn't have it down as a reflex yet. If she'd been stabbing him with a knife or slashing him with a razor, he still would have forgotten about his ability to gate himself away, probably. Was there ever anybody as stupid as Danny?

What had he even
done
since he found out he had this power? Run away from home, which he kind of had no choice about, after the Greek girl as much as caught him red-handed. But everything since then—he'd stolen, he'd begged, and he was going to break into people's houses now and steal their stuff. And he'd also blabbed. And been caught—Eric had seen him going and then seen him come back. It was a miracle the Family hadn't caught up with him already.

“Can I trust you to let him sleep here tonight without having some demon attack him in his bed?” Eric asked Lana.

“I'd worry more about Ced than me,” said Lana. “Ced's gay, you know. That's the only reason I married him.”

Ced rolled his eyes. “This is how she punishes me for helping you pull her off the kid.”

“Come on, Eric,” said Danny. “Let's get out of here and find something to eat.” Not that Danny was hungry—he just hoped he could get Eric alone somewhere and then refuse to come back to this place, ever.

“Stone keeps the fridge completely stocked,” said Lana. “Frozen pies and dinners. Ice cream. Juice—but nothing with preservatives or MSG or high-fructose corn syrup. Also lots of fruits and vegetables. Cucumbers are my favorites.”

“Lana,” Ced warned her.

“Well, they
are.
I like to eat them whole. Bite down on them and hear the crunch.” She turned to Danny. “Did you know that vegetables scream when you eat them raw? It's a little-known fact, because it's so hard to hear, but scientists have picked up the screaming on very sensitive instruments and it's true. But I don't care. I think their sappy little bodies deserve to suffer.”

“Is she off her meds?” asked Eric.

“She doesn't take meds,” said Ced.

“Obviously,” said Eric. “But is she
supposed
to?”

“She's just trying to be colorful and free-spirited. Somewhere between Madonna and Mae West and Britney Spears.”

Danny had read the names “Madonna” and “Britney Spears” on the internet and knew they were singers. Mae West was a name that meant nothing to him.

“I'm above and beyond any of those bitches,” said Lana as she flipped off her husband—really, her
husband
?—and sashayed out of the room again. As she walked away, the athletic shorts, which were too big for her, slid down her legs. She stepped out of them and kicked them back into the room as she left. This time there was no crying from the kitchen; they heard her storm on up the stairs.

“See what I have to live with?” asked Ced.

“Actually, except for the child-molesting, what I saw looked pretty tolerable,” said Eric.