Her eyes were still large and dark, wide in their astonishment. “How—”
Opal stood back, her arms crossed over her chest.
Lauren swallowed. “How long does it last?”
Opal touched Lauren’s cheek and thought about it. “I guess about two hours. It’s hard to tell. You can change back with the brush, too. You don’t want to try this too often. I can’t put too much into the brush—I need to save power for my own work.”
“Is this what made Corvus strange?”
“I don’t think so. I only change the outer layer, what the light falls on. It shouldn’t go any deeper. Do you feel like someone else?”
Lauren stared at her new self. “I think I’m myself inside, but if I went on looking like this for a while, I’d feel different. Wearing this face, I’m not so sure of myself or what signals I’m sending. This is so strange.”
Opal checked her watch again. Nearly three. “I’ve got to get some sleep or I might mess up tomorrow.”
“Oh. Oh, yes, sorry. Thanks, Opal. This is unbelievable.”
“You might want to practice undoing it before you leave, so I can help if anything goes wrong.”
Lauren nodded. She picked up the brush, held it, thought, then stroked the brush gently over her cheeks and mouth. Her face filled out, generous, sensuous, arresting, and Opal felt a twist in her chest again. Though she hadn’t made any choices about Lauren’s changes, her power had worked them, and now she was engaged, like it or not. A warm affection welled up in her, a longing to protect Lauren and help her, spend time with her in any capacity Lauren allowed.
She felt stupid. Why hadn’t she foreseen this outcome?
Maybe it was for the best.
“I look like myself again, right?” Lauren asked. She patted her cheek. “I did all right?”
“You did great.”
“Do you need this for your eye?” Lauren held out the brush to her.
“No,” said Opal. “I wonder.” She closed both her eyes and thought her other eye green. She studied herself with the new eyes. “It’s weird, isn’t it, how such a small thing can make someone look completely different?”
“You look lethal, somehow.”
“Hmm.” What would the Dark God make of that? “Hey, wrap the brush in a handkerchief, if you have one. Because it’s a touch power, it might affect random things it comes in contact with, like stuff in your purse.”
“You’re giving me this?”
“Sure. You can pay me back for the cost of the brush if you like. That’s one of the expensive ones. Be careful with it.”
“I will.” Lauren went back to the bedroom and rummaged in her purse, found a small silk Japanese pouch with coins in it, dumped the coins out and put the brush gently in. “Thank you,” she said, and hugged Opal awkwardly. “See you in the morning.” She let herself out.
“Good night,” Opal said. She just remembered to set her own alarm before she fell exhausted into bed with all her clothes on.
“You sleep all right?” Opal asked Corvus when he arrived at the Makeup trailer at ten. She had gotten there about twenty minutes earlier and had almost finished prepping for him.
“Great. Suspiciously great, when I don’t even remember how I got to bed last night. What happened?”
“You fell asleep in the car. You took direction, though, even asleep. Did you know you sleepwalk excellently?”
“No one has ever told me that before. Opal?” He reached for her hand, tugged her away from setting out her brushes. “Things seem much stranger on this shoot. What’s going on?” He stared into her face, started. “Good lord, what happened to your eyes?”
She had forgotten the change. She glanced at the mirror and saw pale, crystal green eyes staring back. They looked like someone else’s eyes, mysterious and unsettling. “I’m trying out a new effect. You like?”
He frowned. “It’s interesting, anyway.”
“What’s he talking about?” Rodrigo asked from the second chair. He and Magenta were taking a break before Blaise and Lauren arrived. Their call for makeup was much later. Opal had more to do for Corvus.
Opal opened her eyes wide and stared at Rod. “Whoa!” he cried. “Where’d you get the contacts? They’re great! You look so different!”
“It’s not a commercial company. I’m a beta tester. Guess I better take them out before I spook anyone else.”
“Thumbs up for looks,” said Rod, and Magenta nodded.
Opal gave them a big smile. She knelt over her counter and pretended to pop contacts out and put them into an illusory case, letting her eyes go back to their natural violet. She locked the intangible case into one of her drawers and turned to look at Corvus. “You ready?” Opal asked.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Finally he clasped his hands over his stomach and nodded to her. “Apprehensive, but ready, I guess.”
“I’m sorry I’ve broken your trust,” she said gently to him as she shook a can of shaving cream. “I never meant to.”
“Things are happening I don’t understand.”
“Me, too.”
“I never sleep well on a shoot. Too much to obsess about.”
“Do you consider that time well spent?” she asked.
“In fact, I do; it’s those after-midnight skull-sweat sessions that lead me to character breakthroughs—when I get a chance to act a character. They don’t stop me from doing a good job, not when you can’t see my real face.”
She sighed. “I chose not to wake you when it turned out you could walk while asleep, and get ready for bed, too. It’s my fault. Seemed like you were tired enough to need whatever rest you could get. I apologize.”
“You’re going to take responsibility for my sleeping so deeply?”
She hesitated, then said, “I made a suggestion to you while you were under.”
He caught her hand before she could apply the shaving cream. “What was it?” he asked, his voice grating.
“ ‘Rest well,’ ” she said. “Just ‘rest well.’ ”
His face went more still than she had ever seen it. He stared at her, motionless, her hand caught in his. She felt the hot track of a tear streak down her cheek and blinked to stop any others from falling. He might hate her now, but that wouldn’t change how she felt about him, which meant she was in for misery.
He opened his hand and released her, then lay back in his chair and closed his eyes. She shaved him and prepped his skin and laid the prosthetics on gently and silently. This time, she noticed when Blaise and Lauren came in, was remotely aware of their being prepped by Rodrigo and Magenta. She did nothing to Corvus but attach necessary things to his face, arms, hands, and upper body; she made sure she didn’t paralyze him this time, but he didn’t move; he barely breathed. She ornamented him the way she would have painted a statue.
Lauren, ready for her scene, sat in the next chair and watched, silent.
“Time for the contacts,” Opal said at last, her voice choked.
“Can I put them in myself?” he asked.
“Not with the hands you’ve got now.”
“Oh.” He stared down at his hands. This time she had done his whole chest and arms, and the hand prostheses. Today there would be close-ups. He blinked twice. “Go.”
She couldn’t help saying a small spell to herself, that she would slip the contacts in perfectly, not harm him, that he would be comfortable with them as long as it took. She lifted his leaf brown eyelids and slid the contacts in, which gave him the stare of a stranger.
“Good job,” he said. He pulled the lever that straightened his chair so he could stand up easily. He shook his shoulders, and said, as if to himself, “Good.”
“I’ll call Kelsi.”
Corvus studied himself in the mirror while Opal called Kelsi on her walkie to come over with the Dark God’s robe.
“I need jewels,” said Corvus, his voice low and thrilling. “Why would I not adorn myself? It is too simple. Have you people no sense of pageantry? Handm
aiden.” He turned to Opal.
Opal glanced at Lauren, who had straightened, her eyes wide.
“I want something that sparkles. A diamond star for my forehead.”
“I can’t do that, sir. It would ruin the continuity.”
“You can do it,” he whispered. “You will do it.” He gripped her wrist again, bent forward, and brought her hand up to touch his forehead. “Give me a small fraction of your power. A tiny taste, a promise of what we will share later.”
“I don’t want to share with you. I don’t even know you.”
“You know my vessel,” he whispered. “You love it.”
“You’re not that person.”
“I can give you that person.”
“I only want him if he gives himself.”
“Foolish denier of dreams.”
“Yep, that’s me,” Opal said. “Give up this dream of jewels, will you? You’re here to play a part, that’s all.”
He grinned, suddenly, just as Kelsi’s knock sounded on the door. Lauren jumped up and opened it.
“How little you know,” the Dark God said to Opal. “It’s delicious.”
Lauren closed and locked the door after Kelsi came in, the Dark God’s robe over her arm.
“I am surrounded by beauty,” said Corvus, smiling at all three of them. “It’s a fine time to be awake.”
“Mr. Weather, could you hold out your arms behind you so I can slide this on, please?” Kelsi asked.
Corvus posed. She slid the robe onto him. After she had snapped it shut and fastened it with the silver star, he took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.
“Won’t you screw up your—” she began, but then her eyes met his, and she blinked and swayed, leaned into him. His arms folded around her; her face pressed against his sculptured abdomen. He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, his smile widening.
Kelsi sagged in his arms. He lifted her and set her gently on his abandoned chair, where she curled up, snoring softly.
“What did you do to her?” Opal demanded.
“You wouldn’t give me what I needed, so I had to go elsewhere.” He stretched as best he could in the cramped quarters of the Makeup trailer. “I feel stronger now.”
“She going to wake up okay?” Lauren asked.
“Of course. She will just—rest well.” He turned his luminous eyes to Opal, who had flinched at his words. “You could both rest well, if you liked.”
“Get out of here. We have a job to do. Do you have your lines memorized?” Lauren said.
“My lines?” He cocked his head. “My lines. Oh, yes, they’re in here.”
“Well, I hope you can act,” said Lauren. She unlocked the door, flung it open, and stomped down the stairs.
Opal packed her makeup suitcase for the walk across the parking lot to the soundstage. She was conscious of Corvus’s body hovering above her, of the absence of his spirit and the presence of someone else’s. She wasn’t sure how to handle that. She wanted to rescue Corvus, bring him back to himself, but—what if she confronted the new guy and lost? She had never been the most powerful person in her family. She had no idea how to kick a spirit out of a body where it didn’t belong. No way could she act like an exorcist. No religious training. She used her power to alter appearances, not to change the cores of things.
Her options were to try something desperate that might not work or wait him out. See if the new guy could act. Maybe the new guy was the character, and wouldn’t need to act.
The new guy had been present before, and Corvus had returned to the body without any damage but lost time. Maybe the new guy had a time limit on how long he could stick around. Although the fact that he had sucked something out of Kelsi and left her asleep didn’t bode well. Powering up, stealing energy, it looked like. If he could do that to Kelsi, he could probably do that to other people. Opal wondered how hungry he was, and how far he’d go.
Kelsi was still breathing. That was good.
Opal had done her best to leave the magic out of changing Corvus into the Dark God this time, but she had let a little trickle in at the last moment, and the new guy had brought his own. Looking at the Green Man face on him, she didn’t think it was latex any longer.
Corvus didn’t trust her. This wasn’t going to help.
She needed to figure out how to deal with the new guy. Though she had known some roughhousing techniques when she was younger—she had needed them to deal with aggressive siblings and unkind cousins—she was out of practice.
She had a cell phone in her pocket. As soon as she got a minute—and there were lots of hurry-up-and-wait minutes on the set—she’d call home, see if her relatives had any ideas on how to deal with this.
She turned toward the door, and the thing in Corvus’s body said, “Just one taste,” pulled her to him, pressed his lips to hers.
His mouth had a flavor like a ripe, juicy peach, something she had never tasted in a kiss before. She struggled with several impulses: slap him and maybe mess up four hours’ work, cost the picture who knew how much time and money to repair the face. Relax into it: she’d dreamed Corvus would fall for her, in the way of hopeless fantasies. Her sensible streak said it would never happen naturally (it could be made to happen without much effort, she knew), and she wouldn’t force it. This wasn’t Corvus, though; it wasn’t even someone she liked. This was the opposite of her fantasy, an unpleasant reality she didn’t want. While she debated, she felt him drawing power from her. Not good. She needed to cut him off. She could change herself into something without a mouth and break the connection. Shock him away from her. Slide sideways—
Light flashed, a camera’s shutter clicked, and then more flashes and clicks. “Work it, work it,” said Erika from the door.
Opal gripped the Dark God’s shoulders and pushed him away. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Stop.”
“This is terrific stuff,” Erika said, staring at the screen on her digital camera. “Couldn’t have asked for anything better—bye, now!” She raced away as Opal advanced on her, and just then, Opal’s Ear crackled. “Where are you?” asked one of the A.D.s.
Opal glared at the new guy. “You’re coming,” she said, grabbed her suitcase, and headed down the stairs.
Laughing, he followed her.
5
The new guy in Corvus’s body went to the altar set for blocking rehearsal with Blaise and Lauren, and Opal slumped into a chair next to Magenta, who watched a monitor as the cast ran the scene.
“You probably don’t need to hear this again,” said Magenta, “but he looks absolutely awesome.”
“Thanks.”
“You getting ideas about him?”
“What?”
“I am. I thought he was weird-looking at first, but man, he’s hot, in or out of makeup. I usually skip the stars—can’t deal with those messed-up egos, and most of them don’t respect us—but him, there’s something about him—”
“I know.”
“There’s a rumor you were in his room last night.”
“I was.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business. I put him to bed. But just now, Erika shot us kissing.” Her hands closed hard on the chair arms. “It’s not just us in an awkward moment,” she muttered, “it’s the makeup. Nobody’s supposed to see that until the trailers. If she leaks any of those—”
“Uh-oh,” said Magenta. “What were you doing, messing around when you were due on the set? How could you do that when he’s already in makeup?”
“It wasn’t my idea. He just grabbed me.”
“Whoa. He doesn’t seem like the type.”
“He’s kind of schizo. I like the other one, not this one.”
“He musta grown up weird, had to deal with all kinds of body image shit from other people. No wonder he split himself in two.”
“Hmm,” said Opal. She pulled out her cell phone, but just then, someone called out, “Last looks!” She grabbed her suitcase, and she an
d Magenta went to the set.
“Can he act?” Opal muttered to Lauren as she passed her.
“Enough,” Lauren answered, then tilted her head to catch light so Magenta could look her over and see if she needed powdering or lipstick repair. Rod hovered near Blaise, who looked amazing, an angel, though her expression was marred by some form of distaste. Rod said something to her and her face cleared. She closed her eyes as he whisked powder across her nose and cheeks.
Opal faced the new guy. “Come on down, big guy,” she said. “Let me check your looks.”
Obligingly, he bent over. She studied her Polaroids from the night before against his face. He looked better today, though nothing substantial had changed—continuity should be all right. She touched one of his horns, and it felt solid and rooted into his forehead. The point of his chin, the built-up brow ridges had the heat and solidity of living skin. There was no rubbery give to them.
He pressed his hand over hers as she felt his face. His palm was warm, the gesture gentle. Had her problem solved itself? Unlikely, with her latex acting alive.
“Corvus?” she said, hoping anyway.
He smiled, but didn’t answer.
“Clear the set. Let’s go, people. Starting marks. Starting marks.” Opal and the others fled back to the chairs in the outer darkness.
“Blaise is a bitch,” Magenta whispered to Opal as they settled. “I’m lucky she wants Rod to do her. ‘Nothing but the best,’ ” she mimicked.
“Do you like Lauren?” Opal whispered back.
“She’s not fussy. She looks good, too—not much to correct for.”
“Quiet,” yelled one of the assistant directors. “We’re on bell. Roll sound, roll camera, please.” The starting bell for filming rang. Casual conversation died. The voices of the actors spoke their lines from behind the walls of the altar set.
Opal wished she could go outside and phone her family, but now was when she had to be present and silent, in case anything went wrong. She slid a notebook out of her suitcase, opened it to a blank page, and wrote down everything she knew about the person who was not Corvus but wore his body.
It wasn’t much of a list.
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