In the next take, Bettina and Gemma gave fantastic performances, and Phrixos was superb.
“Cut and print,” Neil said. “Now we need some hand shots. Off the set, everybody! We need to reset the cameras.”
They wrapped early, around eight in the evening. They had shot every shot listed on that day’s schedule, and, partly because of Phrixos’s influence on the young actresses, they had shot fewer takes. Everything seemed aligned to give the best results. Neil had consulted with the production manager about whether they should try something that wasn’t scheduled, but each scene took hours to set up. A production assistant came by with call sheets and script revisions for tomorrow as the actors headed toward the Makeup trailer or the Wardrobe trailer to escape the people they had been playing all day.
Opal hadn’t found a minute to call her family. She only thought of doing it when a scene was shooting or when she was summoned to the set. She had spaced it during lunch, worn out by wondering what could go wrong next. Plus, Phrixos had drained her with another kiss, despite the new power collecting she had been doing. She needed to collect even more energy, but she hadn’t found time and space to do the necessary meditations. Tonight, she promised herself.
Phrixos followed Opal into the Makeup trailer. She wondered if he would leave Corvus’s body tonight, or if she had another fight on her hands. She didn’t want to spend any more time with him than she had to.
He had taken the call sheet before she could look at it, and was studying it as she nudged him toward the chair. She had been fighting him all day and was tired of the constant energy it required. She’d look at the call sheet later.
Lauren waited in one of Rod’s chairs, looking rumpled, unmade up, and worried. Bettina and Gemma came in and sat down, Bettina glaring at the older actress, but there were enough chairs for everybody. Rod and Magenta went to work taking off the girls’ makeup.
Lauren didn’t seem to notice Bettina’s irritation. She didn’t even pay attention to Phrixos; her look was all for Opal.
Opal settled Phrixos in his chair. “Go on,” he said. “Check with her.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, call sheet and script pages—pale blue this time—in a loose pile on his lap.
“Thanks.” She felt again the momentary and confusing sense of collaborating with the enemy. Why did she trust him even to this extent? She needed to, she guessed. She went to Lauren and took her hands. “What’s wrong?” she murmured.
“Norman’s here, and I can’t get the brush to work. I forgot what you told me about it.”
“How’d he get on set?”
“He’s not, really, but he’s found a place to stay in town, and he’s lurking outside every time I walk across to the B&B.”
“Has he approached you yet?”
“I’ve been shadowing Blaise, and she’s shadowing Aldridge, so we’re always surrounded by people. Traveling in a pack is more tiring than you’d think. Plus some of the pack keep breaking away and I can’t figure out who to follow. So the answer is no, but now we’re done for the day and I need to go home and rest, which makes me feel vulnerable. Also I’m starving. Did you try that pasta at lunch? Could anything taste more like glue and Styrofoam?”
“It was bad,” Opal said. “Okay, you relax here and I’ll see what I can do with the big guy.”
“Thanks.” Lauren sighed and dug through a hobo-style purse, produced a battered paperback romance.
Opal returned to Phrixos. She tugged the papers out of his grasp and set them on the counter.
“Lauren is in danger?” he asked.
“Do you remember about that?” asked Opal. “You learn what Corvus knows, right? He heard about her stalker last night at dinner.”
The green glow in his eyes dimmed a fraction as he looked inward. Then he returned and stared up at her. “I remember now.” He gripped the arm of his chair as though to rise.
“What?” said Opal.
“The man is a gnat. I can dispose of him.”
“No disposing, all right? Not that I know exactly what you mean by that. If you could send him off to mind his own business, that would be good. No murdering, all right?”
“You prefer he leaves here alive?” said Phrixos.
“I insist on it,” she said. A chill shivered in her shoulders. She had been frightened of Phrixos before, but hadn’t let herself think about whether he was truly dangerous.
He smiled at her, the leaves shifting on the planes of his face until he looked truly demonic.
“Stop that,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows, but he still looked scary. She grabbed the Polaroid and took some continuity pictures, dated and time-stamped them with a Sharpie. In the process, Phrixos’s face relaxed back into the role of supernatural monster, losing its disturbingly human cunning.
Good. Phrixos responded to routine.
Opal got out the solvents that would loosen the adhesive on his face.
“I could approach him as I am now,” he said before she started removing the top layer of appliances.
“You think he’s going to be scared of a costume? He’s a professional. Relax. Nothing’s going to happen right away, except I’m going to take off your mask, okay? Then we’re going to dinner.”
“Whom do you want to escort you?” he asked.
Was this an opening? Could she just ask for Corvus and get him back? How useful would Corvus be in dealing with Norman? Corvus had physical presence; he worked out. Opal had never heard of him getting into fights with anyone.
On the other hand, maybe Phrixos really could solve their problem in a nonlethal way. He had certainly hypnotized people into doing his bidding on the set today and yesterday. Possibly he could give Norman a mental twist that would keep him away from Lauren forever.
“You,” Opal said. She tried not to be disturbed by the smile he kept all through his unmasking and subsequent cleansing and moisturizing.
By the time she restored him to Corvus-normal, everyone had left the trailer except for her, Phrixos, and Lauren. As Phrixos buttoned himself into Corvus’s shirt, Opal packed her messenger bag, stuffing call sheet and script pages in, in addition to everything else she imagined she might need. Their call for tomorrow was five A.M. The weather was supposed to clear so that they could film in the forest. This was an early scene, the coven in the forest summoning the Dark God, and involved Gemma and some actors Opal hadn’t met yet, including Ariadne Orullian, the woman who played Caitlyn and Serena’s mother; this was her bloody death scene.
Five A.M.. They had left the set on time and a half, since the shoot plus makeup application and removal had taken eleven hours. First three hours of tomorrow would be time and a half until they reached turnaround. Well, a person had to take advantage of the weather when the opportunity arose. They’d been waiting to shoot on the forest set for too long already. It was possible they would shoot a piece of the scene with Dark God and Lauren on the altar rock if the light held out, her “come to the dark side” scene.
Lauren was curled up in the chair, the book in her lap, her eyes shut and her mouth slightly open, soft snores coming out. Opal shook her shoulder gently and she gasped and sat up. “Huh?”
“Let’s go to supper,” said Opal.
Lauren looked up at Phrixos, narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
“Phrixos.”
“Have you been that before?”
“That’s his Scary Dark God name. It’s not his real name,” Opal said, “but it comes in handy.”
“Oh. Okay. So anyway, not Corvus. How come you’re not Corvus?”
“Opal asked me to stay,” he said, and smiled his demon grin. “I understand you have a problem with someone. I can help you deal with it in ways he can’t.”
“Why would you?”
“I protect my own.”
“I’m not yours,” she said.
“Do you wish to test that assertion?”
“Stop arguing,” said Opal, “and let’s go take care of this guy.”
> “Wait a sec,” said Lauren. “How do we plan to do that? Norman creeps me out, but I’m not ready for full-scale violence.”
“It would solve your problem,” said Phrixos.
“Not going to work for me,” Lauren said.
“Opal says the same thing. It’s a timid generation you are. Very well. I will settle for a less permanent solution, and merely persuade him away.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“First I want a kiss.”
“What?” She shrank back. “No.”
“Payment in advance. What’s wrong with that?”
“You gonna knock me out the way you did Kelsi?”
“I won’t,” he said.
“I’ll be able to walk and talk and think afterward?”
Phrixos sighed. “Very well.”
“I don’t like you,” she said. He smiled gently, cupped the back of her head in his hand, and leaned forward to press his lips to hers, gently, gently, working slowly up to more pressure. Lauren stood passive at first, her eyes closed. Her hands crept up to grip his shirt. Their mouths engaged more fully, and Lauren’s posture softened.
Opal struck Phrixos on the back of the head with the flat of her hand. “Stop that!”
He pulled away from Lauren, licked his lips, grinned sideways at Opal. “Jealous?”
“Oh, please,” said Opal.
Lauren moaned, opened her eyes. She looked dazed. She blinked, shook her head. “You are so—” she said, her voice rising with each word.
“Tasty? Helpful? Pleasurable?”
“Infuriating.”
Phrixos laughed. “You, on the other hand, are another source of pure pleasure. Let’s go.” He threaded her arm through his and went to the door, helped Lauren down the steps. They left the trailer-laden parking lot with its saggy insta-fence and a guard sheltering under an overhang on one of the Star Waggons from the constant misty drizzle. As they crossed the street toward where Hitch had parked the car, a form detached itself from one of the droopy-branched evergreens in the town square and came toward them.
“Norman,” said Lauren. She gripped Phrixos’s arm more firmly. Opal came up on his other side, and he crooked an elbow so she could hang on him, too. What the hell. This was why she endured his presence without protest. She hooked her arm through his.
The man walked into the light of the nearby streetlamp, staring at Lauren’s face. He had an engaging best-friend type of face, not leading man; slightly disheveled and good-humored, friendly blue eyes and a wide smile. His bangs flopped half over his eyes. “Evening,” he said.
“Norman,” said Lauren.
“Lauren.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, waiting for you, I guess.”
“I told you to stop that,” she said. “It’s over, Norman. Find someone new.”
“It’s not that easy.” He came closer. “There’s no one else.” He bent to peer at her. “No one else is you.”
“Well, okay, I’ll live with that hypothesis. I’m the only me. And I’m telling you to leave me alone, Norman. Seriously. Get over it and move on.”
He smiled as though that would change things. Opal, an educated observer, had to admit that he had an excellent and inviting smile.
“I’m not ready,” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Lauren. You won’t leave my mind. I need you.”
“I don’t need you, and I don’t want you,” said Lauren. “Do you hear me?”
He shook his head. “I hear you, but I don’t believe you.”
“Phrixos,” Lauren said.
“Come here, little man,” Phrixos said, his voice gentle and rich.
Norman backed up a step. “I’m not getting in range of those fists of yours. I’m besotted, not insane.”
“I won’t hit you. I just want to shake the hand of the man who recognizes treasure when he sees it.”
“I’m not touching you,” said Norman.
“Very well. I’ll touch you, then.” Phrixos eased out from between the women. In one stride, he stepped into Norman’s breathing space, crowding him. He cupped his hands around Norman’s head, tilted it back until Norman was staring up at his face. Norman shoved at Phrixos’s chest, but the taller man didn’t budge, even when Norman pounded on him. “Quiet,” Phrixos said, his voice gentle and thrilling. Norman slowed and stopped, hung limply in Phrixos’s grasp.
“Good,” said Phrixos. “Listen to me. Hear me. Your memory and desire for this woman fade. They seep away. She is not in your blood. She is not in your brain. You do not need or want her. She is just another woman you worked with once. A pleasant acquaintance, nothing more. You have somewhere else to go, something else to do. She leaves your mind and you find another star to fix on. Say it.”
“She is not in my blood. She is not in my brain,” Norman whispered.
“You release her from your thoughts and let her go her own way.”
“I release her,” he muttered, almost too low to hear.
“You are content.”
“I am content.”
Phrixos lowered his hands from Norman’s head to his shoulders, stabilized him. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Norman shuddered, shook his head as though he could cast off thoughts like water, and said, “Okay.”
“Can you stand?”
“Okay.”
Phrixos lowered his hands. Norman swayed a moment, then found his feet. “What am I doing here?” he asked.
“We don’t know. You were following us,” said Phrixos.
“I was? Where are we?” He glanced around at the nearby forest, the mist, the night. He looked closer to home. “Hi, Lauren. Who are you?” he asked Phrixos, ignoring Opal. “You were in a horror movie, right?”
“Several. We’re in Oregon, shooting a movie, but you’re not in it. You just showed up here. Where’s your home?”
“Los Angeles.” Norman frowned and got out his wallet, checked the currency compartment, pulled out some receipts. “Looks like I ate at an IHOP this morning, but I don’t remember it at all. Here’s a keycard for a hotel, the Bugle Arms. Wonder which room I have. What time is it?” He looked at his watch. “That late?” He glanced around. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Maybe I’m having a psychotic break. What’s the date?”
Lauren said, “November seventh.”
Norman looked confused, unfocused. “I’ve lost a week. Last thing I remember was calling the airline to book a flight. Guess I was coming here, but I don’t know why.”
“Maybe there are clues in your hotel room,” Lauren said. “What are you driving?”
Opal tried to remember what kind of car had followed her last night when they left the restaurant, but it had been dark.
Norman reached into his pocket, came up with a key attached to a plastic tag with writing on a slip of paper inside: Enterprise Rent-A-Car, and SILVER CAPRICE LIC. # KKO 951.
“Huh,” said Norman.
Lauren glanced around at nearby cars. She pointed. The Caprice was parked down the block from the B&B. They strolled over and checked the license plate. The numbers matched. Norman unlocked the passenger-side door and looked in. A litter of fast-food wrappers and white paper bags with a doughnut shop logo emblazoned on their sides lurked in wadded disarray in the footwell, and on the seat were a pair of binoculars, three bottled waters, a half-eaten sandwich falling out of its paper wrapper, a notebook with crabbed blue ballpoint handwriting in it, and a handheld digital recorder.
“Jeez,” said Norman. “What the hell have I been doing?”
Opal reached in and snatched the notebook and recorder.
“Hey!” Norman said.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t need these anymore,” she said.
“How would you know? Have we even met? If that stuff belongs to me, I want it back.”
“No, you don’t,” Phrixos said, a hand on Norman’s shoulder.
“I sure do. Are you people robbing me?”
Phrixos
rested a hand on Norman’s head again, only this time Norman sidestepped. “Quit touching me! What are you, a pervert?”
“That and much more,” said Phrixos, gripping Norman’s shoulder in one hand and his head in another. He aimed Norman’s eyes toward his own again, and stared down with that peculiar intensity. “Let go of any records you have of Lauren. She’s just someone you know, not someone you obsess about. You don’t need anything you wrote down or spoke about her. Let it go. Repeat that.”
“Let it go,” Norman whispered.
“You feel all right, and you don’t suspect us of any ill intentions toward you. You feel we are your friends.”
“You’re my friends.”
Opal slipped the notebook and recorder into her messenger bag.
“You remember what number your room is in the hotel, and where it is. You remember a creative reason why you came up here that has nothing to do with Lauren. Maybe you’re researching something for your career. Understand?”
“Yeah,” said Norman.
“Good,” said Phrixos. He stroked Norman’s hair, then released him again.
Norman shuddered and said, “Where were we?”
“Hard to tell,” said Phrixos. “You ready to go back to your hotel now?”
“Yeah. I feel tired. Can’t remember what I’ve been doing, but I’m worn out.”
“We’ll see you later,” Phrixos said, and gave Norman’s shoulder a little shove.
“All right. Good night.” Norman slammed the passenger door shut and rounded the car to climb in behind the steering wheel.
Opal stood beside Phrixos in the cold evening air and watched Norman drive away. When the car turned a corner and the taillights were no longer visible, Lauren let out a sigh.
“I don’t know that that is permanent,” said Phrixos, one arm dropping to lie across Lauren’s shoulders, the other resting on Opal’s. “I didn’t want him to forget forever, because there might be something in his memory we need later. Also, I’m low on energy right now. I could do a better job if you would feed me more.”
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