by Dave Ferraro
Chapter Four
Cameron slammed his bedroom door shut behind him and tried to calm his breathing. With a trembling hand, he brought a hand up to his face, feeling the contours of his disfigurement that he knew so well. So, just like that, the glamour was gone. Everybody had seen it. No more secrets. No more looks of admiration from people. What would they see when they saw him next? A liar? Would they pity him? Would they be able to even look beyond his scar? There was no going back. From now on, this was him.
He needed to….settle down. His eyes wandered the room. His guitar. He picked it up and looked it over for a moment, strumming a string half-heartedly before pausing and letting his gaze drift to the open window. The curtains billowed with a slight breeze, making a small rustling noise that he found comforting for some reason. He set aside his guitar and stared at the curtains as they continued to shift and flutter with the wind. Before long, his mind began to wander, back to Shanna, back to Greece and the past few days with her. Even when he was holding her, she felt like she was at arm’s length lately. Even after having an honest, naked conversation with her, he felt her distance. He’d noticed her touching the scar on her neck, he’d noticed how she’d barely even registered him as she left the warehouse today. It seemed like he was always second best for her, there was always something better to occupy her thoughts. And now, with his glamour gone, how would she react?
Standing up restlessly, he crossed to the window and pulled the curtains aside, staring out into the night air. It felt refreshing, having the wind blowing in his face. He searched the darkness, the shadows of the gardens below, the inkiness of the yard beyond the basketball court. He couldn’t make out much detail, but he knew that when the sun shone over the area, he would see the beautiful grounds and the promise of all it offered. Like his relationship with Shanna. He knew that they could be truly happy together if she just…let him in. He reached up and touched his face, his fingers lightly running the length of his scar. He closed his eyes tightly to keep his tears in check. He was afraid that this scar would keep her from him. She didn’t say it, but he knew how hard it was for her to touch it, to kiss him knowing that it was there. And that had been when she couldn’t see it. He couldn’t blame her really. He’d react the same way if he were in her shoes. But…he wanted her to see past it. Why couldn’t she just see past it? Why couldn’t his damn glamour have just held?
“Ugh!” He pushed the curtains aside in disgust and looked back into his room. He saw his face reflected in a floor length mirror hanging on the wall. It seemed to mock him, accentuating the new face he would be putting forth to the world. He felt a sudden rush of anger. He wanted to do something rash and destructive. Without thinking about it, he picked up his guitar, felt the weight in his hands, and got a firm grip on its neck. Then he smashed it against the mirror, hard. The glass spilled from the frame easily, like water from a fountainhead, making little sound as it landed on the thick carpet at his feet. Most of the guitar crumpled upon impact, sending shards of wood flying across the room and raining down onto the floor to join the glass, but he didn’t stop there. After sending the mirror’s frame to the floor, he continued to beat the guitar against the plaster of the wall relentlessly until he was left with a foot of the neck, broken strings dangling from it crooked and curled, making the smallest sounds as they vibrated with his movements. He looked down at it for a moment, chest heaving, comprehending what he’d just done, then tossed it aside.
“What am I doing?” he asked himself. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking. He felt out of control. His life was out of control. He didn’t know what he could do.
He flopped down onto his bed, recalling how it had felt for his own girlfriend to shoot him with a tranquilizer. She knew him so little that she’d mistaken him for an imposter. No one knew him. He may as well not exist. He touched his scar again. This was the cause of all this. It was what kept everyone at a distance. He could blame Shanna all he wanted for not opening up to him, but the truth was, he found it just as hard to open up to people, let alone let them into his life. She’d, after all, been the first person he’d let know about the scar in the first place. And she was so...oblivious to the effect that she had on him. The next time he saw Shanna, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her up here, lay her on his bed, kiss her, make her realize how important she was to him. But that seemed out of the question now. He couldn’t imagine himself doing that with his face looking the way it did. He looked back up at the window, wondering what she was doing at that exact moment. How would she react upon seeing him for the first time when she returned? This was going to change everything. His life was ruined.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment. The worst that could happen was that he would lose himself in his work. He loved doing what he did anyway. He would always be able to do that. He was better off than Jade.
Shuddering, he glanced over at the debris of wood and glass on the floor. His friends would still like him. They wouldn’t be unkind to him. But Shanna…he couldn’t imagine losing Shanna. Should he…give her an easy out if she wanted it? Tears collected in his eyes as the thought crossed his mind. He just wanted this nightmare to end. Why couldn’t he be the beautiful boy he was just a few hours ago? Maybe if he could convince Amelia to try to replace the glamour, despite the risks…or even Valor. Maybe she would help him. So what if it killed him in the process? At least he wouldn’t be deformed. At least he would have tried to be normal again.
Then his eyes shifted to the corner of the room, where he registered movement. He sat up and stared at the shadows he found there, where the two walls met. Somehow the shadows seemed much deeper than the few feet they made up. They seemed to fall back into the wall, where two eyes blazed from a distance. It had to have been some sort of optical illusion, but it seemed as if someone were walking toward him. His brain was having a hard time processing the image.
Closing his eyes, he rubbed his hands over them to drive the vision out. When he opened them again, he saw a larger shadow rise up out of the darkness and step into the light of the room. A girl. A blonde girl.
“Shanna?” Cameron asked in disbelief, standing up. “What are…” He let his voice trail off as her face came into full view, the shadows disappearing with the light. This wasn’t Shanna. But he’d seen her somewhere before. From the files he’d seen from The Crimson Rope months ago.
He took in her wavy blonde hair, her bright blue eyes and the light green eyeshadow that framed them and matched her simple, flowing silk dress. Her lips were painted red and stood out in contrast from her pale white skin. A small pink gemstone hung from the center of a thin silver chain and lay over her forehead, over her third eye. “Tessa,” he whispered.
The woman smiled at him, lighting up her face like an angel’s. She was very beautiful, almost flawless. The opposite of how he looked now. “That’s right, Cameron. It’s nice to meet you.”
Licking his lips, Cameron glanced around the room for a weapon.
As if sensing his thoughts, Tessa held up her hands, palms out. “I mean you no harm. I’m just here to talk.”
“You’re here to talk,” Cameron echoed.
Tessa glanced down at what remained of the guitar and mirror. “It looks like your guitar was in a fight.”
Cameron watched her for a moment before swallowing hard. He had no idea what she wanted, what she would have to say to him, but he didn’t like her presence here. “Tell me what you want to say and leave.”
Tessa smiled at him again. “We have a proposition for you, one that I think you will find most…satisfactory.”
“A propo…” Cameron frowned. “What are you talking about? You want me to do something for you? Are you insane?”
“Hardly.” She walked toward him and took a seat at the edge of his bed.
Putting a little distance between them, Cameron sat at a computer chair
across from her, senses alert for anything that seemed off. “So, what does La Faer Noir want?”
“I’m here on behalf of Samantha Cummings,” Tessa told him.
“Leader of the New York branch of La Faer Noir.”
“Precisely. I do her bidding, not La Faer Noir’s. It’s a small distinction, but one day, it may make all the difference.”
Cameron shifted uncomfortably. “Okay. What does Samantha want?”
“A few reasonable services from you in compensation for a gift she’s authorized me to give you.”
Scoffing, Cameron rolled his eyes. “I don’t want any gifts from you.”
“I wouldn’t be so hasty. It will change your life.”
Cameron’s eyes returned to hers and held them. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat. He believed her.
“What services do you need me to perform?” Cameron asked, sitting up a little taller.
Tessa considered him for a moment. “I’m going to be completely forthright about this, Cameron. Samantha wants to meet with Shanna. We think the best way to get to her is through you.”
Cameron stiffened. “I can’t…”
“No harm would come to her. We simply wish to have a discussion with her. No magick. No mind control. No guards. We just want her undivided attention for a time, to hear us out. But I promise you, she could leave of her own free will at any time. She would not be a prisoner.”
His mind began racing, pulling him in a dozen different directions. Shanna? What did they want from Shanna? “Okay…let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I believe you. Why do you need me?”
Tessa sighed and leaned back on her elbows. “Well, there is the company of hunters she keeps…it makes it very difficult to get to her in the first place, but not impossible. If we wanted, we could sweep her right off of the street. But we don’t want her as an enemy. We want her to ally herself with us. We don’t want to make her feel like she’s being kidnapped or in any danger. We don’t want to create panic. We just want her to listen to us. We think she would be more…cooperative if you were involved. She would feel safe with you there, would be open to listening to what we had to say. If I appeared to her as I’m appearing to you, I have little doubt that she would refuse a meeting, but if you bring her to us, I think that the outcome would be very different.” She sat forward. “We also have a particular way of coming into arrangements at La Faer Noir. People must do so of their own free will if certain pacts are to be valid. The place where the meeting must take place with Shanna is shielded from magick, telepathy, and any number of invasive means of manipulation. And she must enter of her own free will. We can not force her. But you…she would most likely follow you anywhere.”
Cameron blinked, trying to process what she was saying. They wanted him to lead Shanna into the lion’s den? Did they really think he would do that?
“Plus…” Tessa paused, looking at Cameron with meaning. “Time is of the essence.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shanna was infected by Gur’tich Powder. It’s a drug that will slowly destroy her unless a mark is put on her.”
Cameron frowned. “I’m not following you. What are you talking about?”
Clearing her throat, Tessa licked her lips and tried again. “Before setting off for Greece, when you were replaced by the shape shifter, Shanna was exposed to Gur’tich Powder. Lupe took it upon herself to mark her with it. Once Gur’tich Powder is introduced to a person, it will either cause permanent damage to them in about a month, or will combine with another substance to complete a mark. The two items, basically, brand a person as a target for assassination from a demon.”
Paling visibly, Cameron swallowed hard. “You mean, Shanna is going to be assassinated?”
“Not if we can help it.”
Cameron stood up and paced in front of Tessa. “Why do you care? What would it matter to you if you had one less hunter to watch out for?”
“Because, you and I both know that Shanna Hunt is special.” She met his eyes knowingly.
“Well,” he said reluctantly, “we can agree on that, at least. Tell me more about this powder.”
“Gur’tich Powder. If you do nothing, Shanna will be damaged beyond repair, at the very least. And since you were all in close proximity to her in the days following her exposure, you were also infected, and will be damaged with inaction.”
Cameron paused and turned to look at her. “So, you’re basically telling me that if I don’t do these favors for you, I will be crippled, Shanna will be crippled, and so will the rest of the hunters.”
Tessa nodded slowly. “This isn’t a threat, Cameron. You have a choice. Your friends are resourceful and may find their own way around this threat. But do you really want to take that risk? I’m offering you a way to lift this curse yourself, and help us in the process, as well as….yourself.”
“Is there a cure?”
“No. But we have a choice of which substance to combine the Gur’tich Powder with. We can determine which demon will hunt you.”
Cameron nodded slowly. “One we could defeat.”
“Exactly.”
“And you’re doing this because you want Shanna alive?”
“Yes.”
Sitting down again, Cameron ran a hand back through his hair. “Okay. But how does this help you to get Shanna?”
“Because the mark we choose for her will be different than the one we choose for the rest of you.”
Cameron blinked. “Okay. But she will be safe?”
“Absolutely. The demon we choose for her will merely contain her. It will do no harm to her whatsoever.”
“And the demon that you send after us?”
Tessa smiled easily. “Well, we will have to make it threatening, at least. But we will choose one that your combined forces will easily dispose of. Plus, we do want a distraction while Shanna battles her own demon. This will do.”
Licking his lips nervously, Cameron leaned closer to Tessa. “Okay. If I do this for you…and that’s a big if right now…what do I get in return?”
Tessa stood up and walked over to him slowly, bending down so that her face was level with his. “If you deliver Shanna Hunt to us, and comply with our requests in the interim, you will get everything you want.” She touched the side of his face, her hand lingering on his scar.
Cameron’s eyes widened as she withdrew her hand. He touched the scar himself then, and watched as Tessa walked away from him. “You can reconstruct the glamour?” he whispered.
She smiled. “You don’t need a glamour if you don’t have a scar.” She set a small aluminum aerosol canister down on the computer table. “You have until tonight to decide. You will need to empty the contents of this container into the air conditioner vent on the second floor of the library and make sure that it goes on for a few minutes at some point tonight. It will automatically spread throughout the mansion and reach all of your teammates.”
“Felicia isn’t here.”
Tessa glanced back at him. “Felicia wasn’t in Greece. She’s not infected.” She narrowed her eyes. “You must do this tonight, before Shanna returns. You will designate her mark another way.”
She walked into the corner of his room, where the shadows grew larger than before.
“And what if Shanna doesn’t do what you want her to after you’ve met with her?” Cameron asked her retreating form.
She walked into the wall. “Then you will have done all you could. You will be rewarded for your services.”
And then she was gone. Cameron stared at the wall for a few minutes, making certain that he saw no more movement. Then he walked to his bed and slowly sank down onto it.
He could report this to Valor immediately. But Tessa was right - what if they didn’t find a way around it? What then? Go back to them and beg? Watch his friends in pain around him? He shook his head. She’d given him the cure already. It was s
itting right there. He eyed the aerosol canister. Even if he did participate in this part of their plan, he wouldn’t have to continue to help them. And he would have saved them all. That wouldn’t lead to his face being restored, but at least it was something he could do. He bit his lip. But if he did get his face restored… It was very convenient that his glamour had faded at the same time as Tessa’s proposal came about. He wasn’t sure he believed it was a coincidence. They could have set this up to guarantee his help. But what did it matter in the end? He had the scar and he no longer had a glamour. If what they asked of him wasn’t too extreme, could he do it? Could he aid the enemy? It wouldn’t be an outright betrayal, getting Shanna to listen to them talk. She probably wouldn’t accept their offer anyway, but he would still get his face restored. Where was the harm? His friends would be saved. He would be saved. Shanna, at the worst, would be upset with him for bringing her to a meeting.
He tapped his lower lip thoughtfully, running it through his mind slowly. It really wouldn’t be a betrayal, he decided again. But it could fix everything.