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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Burning Dilemmas"  "You wanna talk, talk to me," you shout. Gardinhire and Johansson turn toward with looks of surprise. "So tell me something, asshole," Matthias yells back. "Just the two of us," you tell him. "We go off alone—" "Fuck you," he says. "Gardinhire, start punching yourself in the face. Hard." But the guy who looks like Johansson steps back from the guy who looks like Gardinhire. "No, talk to him," he says. "I'm not going to—" Matthias curses at him, but the other refuses to move. Tiny beads of sweat—like spiders—crawl all over your body as you wait. Matthias curses again, then orders Black to let you go. He shoves his own prisoner toward Johansson, who steps back as Gardinhire jumps to the side. It's like a field of mutual repulsion separates them. That leaves you to stare at Dane Matthias. His hair is matted and his eyes are feverish and his lips curl back to show yellowed teeth. His clothes are sloppy and casual, but there is nothing like Dane's goofy cheer in his face or pose. He looks like a wild, desperate animal. You wonder if he has a knife on him. You nod at the basement door. "We'll talk down there." "You first, fucker." Okay. He edges away as you approach the door, and you keep your eye on him all the way down the creaking stairs. He remains at the top of the stairs—high ground from which he can fall on you if he has to. "So whaddaya got to say," he asks. The new experiment is burning in the far corner, but Matthias doesn't so much as glance at it. That surprises you, until you realize he and his friends, in laying the ambush, must have been peeking through the windows and already seen it. And you and Caleb were too wrapped up in to notice them spying on you. "I'm waiting, asshole," Matthias says. Obviously it's no use bluffing anymore, so you counter with a question of your own. "What do you want?" "I wanna know—! What the fuck are you doing? Who are you?" "You don't know?" He blinks: He shouldn't have tossed away that advantage. "I know that's fuckin' Johansson up there, all dressed up like—" His breath turns ragged and he licks his lips. And now you see just how scared he is of you. A reciprocal confidence flows into you. "Then you know who I am," you gloat. "I'm Gary Chen. Chen Guangli. Son of—" "Fuck you!" shouts the real Gary Chen "Look, man, I'm not trying to screw you," you tell him. "I'm sure you figured out most of it." No problem telling him what he already knows. You point to him. "Before I looked like this, I looked like that. Before that, I looked like Gordon Black." You pause. You're not going to go back any farther than that; and maybe you should let him think you're really the bully-boy captain of the basketball squad. "Yeah, I made myself up to look like Matthias, and—" "Why?" "For reasons." You hold his eye. "I made myself up like him and accidentally screwed you on your shit. I didn't mean to, it just happened. But you got pissed at me, and Dwayne told me you were gonna break something. So I turned myself into the asshole who was trying to hurt me. I wasn't going to stick it out long anyway," you add. "Just until I could figure out someplace where you couldn't get me. Then I'd give you your shit life back again." You grin slyly at him. "You really want it back? Ain't it so much easier bein' Matthias, just chillin'?" He flushes. "Fuck you. Show me how you do this shit so I can change back." "I'm not showing you shit. And I'm not changing you back until I figure out how to get away." Chen advances down the steps. "You put things back or—" "Or what? Listen, man." You put up your hands in a placating gesture. "I understand how you feel, I got your upstairs in my upstairs." He blanches as you grin. "But the thing is, we gotta work together. And we can, you know. Those dipshits out there, they're not your friends. Matthias is a goof-ball, and Gardinhire's been cheating you. Yeah, you knew he was sellin' on the side, but did you know who he was selling to?" Curiosity and loathing fight for possession of his face. "To some to his friends, but at school prices. He was sellin' to his friends at forty dimes an ounce, pocketing the profit that shoulda been yours. But most of it he was selling at a profit to Chris Trantham, at the club. Yeah, Trantham. He told me, and you can go sit on him and ask him yourself. He'd buy from you, drop it in his locker at work, next day turn around and sell it to Trantham at a markup. "He's not a good partner for you, man," you continue as Chen grips the edge of a bookcase. "But I can be. I'm not rockin' your life. I dealt to Gardinhire and up at the college, your mom and dad are gettin' your tip money, I gave Karol Mathis this month's payment, left the rest with him as the advance on next month's buy. I didn't know how long I was gonna be here, and I didn't wanna make any trouble for myself. You step back in and you won't find anything disturbed. But—" you raise a forefinger at him. "I'm not giving it back until I can make myself an escape hatch. And in the meantime—" You shrug. "We can work together." He stares at you a long time, breathing heavily. "And then you'll fuck me up, take all my shit when you bolt—" "Why would I do that? Why make you mad at me? Madder? I can't steal anything, I gave it all to Mathis. All I got is the shit you deal around school yourself every month." "How much?" "About three ounces. You lifted some off me Monday, right?" You grin, but he doesn't return it. "You deal it yourself? Keep it, it's your money anyway. Tell you what, everything I sell, I'll turn it over to you. In fact, here." You cross to the pile of supplies, which also includes the remaining bags of weed. One by one you toss him three of the bags, keeping one for yourself. "You deal those, they're yours, but this one I'll deal. I'll either give you the money or, if I run out of eighths, I'll use that money to buy some more supply off you. Between us, we'll get the stuff dealt fast. Of course," you add thoughtfully, "you'll have to give me an allowance, fifty bucks every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, as tip money for your folks." Nothing gets said for a long time. Chen's eyes glitter as he studies you. You can't be sure, but he's got to be weakening. What else can he do? "So I gotta stick it out as Matthias? For how long?" he asks. "A few weeks. What's wrong with that?" Then a thought comes to you. "Or maybe you could be Gordon Black. Let Matthias have his life back, and you could hang out with Chelsea, get some pussy time with her." You waggle your eyebrows. He gasps, then swallows, like a fish taking some bait. "Or maybe someplace else," you continue. "I put my friend in for Gardinhire, so he could help me out. We can put you someplace useful, that'll do you good for when you got your old face back. Bulk up your network in a couple of places, develop 'em when you're feeling like yourself again?" "Like where?" he asks. Wariness shows in his face, but interest does too. "Lotsa possibilities, man. The basketball team? I sold some to Martin and Bennett." Chen's eyes widen. "Yeah, you go in there, develop some contacts by playin' one of them. Or, we already got Matthias lookin' out for us from Gordon's perch, if we take care of Patterson—" You grin. "Can you see that fucker dealin' to his own teammates? It could be you doin' it. "Or the football guys. Fuck, we don't know where they're gettin' their weed, you could bust their supply from the inside, then step in to take it over. Or how about Roth? Cool cat like him would probably make an awesome salesman. You and your friends are too scary. Roth could talk fuckin' Sagansky into buying." A hungry look comes onto his face. But he surprises you with a riposte. "So why don't you take one of those guys, let me run things myself? As myself?" Well, it's true. Over the last few days it's become very easy to act like this, but you could still pry Gary Chen's face and head off of yours. Couldn't you? But you temporize. "You should set things up the way you want," you reply. "Besides, that's the place we're aimin' at, you gettin' your life back while I disappear. If you wanna keep your hand in, start dealing as Roth. Maybe go into Eastman, set up a network there. Or kick back as Matthias while I do the heavy work." You remember the mask Caleb had made. A grin breaks out on your face. "Or maybe you wanna relax as someone a little sexier? We got Matthias playing Black. That'd make it easy for us to get you in for Chelsea Cooper. Why beg for the chance to play with her tits when you could play with them yourself any time you wanted?" You meant it as a tease, but to your surprise he turns quiet, and his gaze goes distant. After a minute it becomes clear he's not going to answer right away. You move into a corner, and relax atop a table. Long minutes pass. But when he stirs, his words have no force behind them: "Yeah, a lot of that makes sense. Even Chelsea could deal some." Agony shows on his face. He lapses into silence. Clearly he's receptive to all the ideas you've laid out, but undecided beyond that. You can push him in whatever direction you wish. Next: "A Change of Partners?" |
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