A Monster and a Gentleman (16 page)

Chapter Eleven

Oren and Maeve

Oren nodded as he listened to Catherine. At any other time he’d be interested in what she was saying, but he was too tense thinking about what was about to happen to really focus.
 

“You all think that because they’re really monsters that we won’t need any visual effects, but that’s not right. Visual effects shouldn’t be some…”—Catherine’s hands waved in the air—“…Band-Aid. It’s an opportunity to take something amazing and make it unbelievable.”

“We want it to be believable,” Oren said, struggling to pretend he was paying attention.

“You’re not listening. Yes, when Runako jumps off the building and starts flying, it’s amazing, but…what if he jumped as a human and then changed, midair? It’s not possible—I asked him—but if I make skins of them and then did the jump on green screen, I could render the midair change.”

Oren was now really listening. She had a point. He had a feeling that she was pushing this because she felt threatened by the fact that the monsters were real, and that for this movie VFX was being treated like the cleanup crew rather than the creative powerhouse it normally was.
 

The door opened and Margo, Maeve and Cali entered.

“Cali, listen to this idea Catherine has,” he said, “I really think we need to up the VFX budget.”

“Oren.” Margo gave him a tight smile.

“Uh, sorry.”
 

Catherine was sitting beside him in front of his editing bay, which was dark since they’d locked down the footage. He squeezed her hand. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“You can stay.” Maeve smiled at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Margo raise a brow at that. Oren released Catherine’s hand and moved to one of the benches on the far side of the trailer, so he was behind Maeve.
 

Last night at dinner, Maeve had been…

He didn’t know what she’d been.

Her seething anger hadn’t dissipated, even as they ate, and he’d had the feeling that she’d been having trouble controlling herself. He’d shivered through dinner, and while he was sure it was because he’d been sitting under an AC vent or something like that, he could have sworn that he saw the water in her glass turn to ice each time she touched it.

Henry had arrived and once he’d assured Maeve that they were all okay, she’d seemed to calm down. When Henry took her to his car, Oren had to bite back the offer to let her stay with him. Maeve was beautiful, interesting, but she was also wild and Oren wasn’t sure he’d know what to do if she lost control of herself.

“What’s going on?” Catherine asked.

The tension in the trailer notched up, and Oren clenched his hands into fists.
 

“Catherine.” Cali’s voice was cool, almost formal. “We think you’re the one who leaked those photos.”

“What? I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that.” She scanned their faces, even craning her neck to look at Oren. “Who said I did?”

“We’ve been investigating,” Margo added.

“You investigated me? I’m the one who’s been going through the computers, trying to see who accessed the footage.” Catherine shot to her feet. “What evidence do you have that I did it?”
 

No one said anything.

“Nothing, you have nothing, because I didn’t do it.”

“We want that to be true,” Margo’s voice was low, and Oren remembered that she’d been the one to bring Catherine on. “But we need to know for sure.”

“I object, because you should trust me.” Catherine, who was half Asian with dark hair and eyes, was vibrating with anger. Her cheeks were flushed. “But fine, what do you want? Access to my email? Phone records?”

“There’s no need to be angry.” Maeve spoke, and everyone went quiet. Her voice was musical and soft. Oren found himself nodding. There was no need to be angry, everything would be fine.

“Take my hand,” Maeve said. “If you take my hand, I will tell them the truth, they will know that you are innocent. Just take my hand.”

Oren found himself half out of his seat before her words really registered. Maeve’s voice was hypnotic. Both Margo and Cali were reaching out toward her. Oren grabbed their shoulders and pulled them back. He forced them to sit with him, leaving only Catherine and Maeve standing.

Catherine opened her mouth, as if she would say something, but then closed it. She nodded very slowly, then raised her hand and took two steps forward, bridging the distance between herself and Maeve.

Her fingers hesitated before they touched Maeve’s and Oren wondered if some buried instinct was telling her to run.

Their fingers touched. Catherine gasped and dropped to her knees, right hand still held in Maeve’s left.
 

Oren spared a glance for Catherine, but his attention was held by Maeve.

Her hair fell from the tame bun, and started to whip around in a wind that he couldn’t feel. Though he could only see her in profile, Oren still had a good view of the changes that came over her. Maeve’s fingers lengthened and her trim nails grew until they were claws. The skin on her face grew taught and pulled in, making her features stand out in harsh angles and planes.
 

The air temperature had dropped and Oren was now watching the scene through the mist of his own breath.

Her hair whipped to the side and he caught a glimpse of her ears, which now had a distinct Vulcan point. He blew out a long breath of steam. With Maeve, it probably wasn’t Vulcan ancestry that gave her pointed ears. Last night he’d done a quick Internet search on banshees. Apparently some literature said they were descended from the fairies of Ireland.

Maeve turned her head to the side slightly and he got a better look at her face. Her eyes were open and so blue they seemed to glow. They were flicking side to side, as if she were speed-reading, and yet that flickering gaze seemed to be looking into middle space.

Remembering what she’d explained to him, both about what she could do and about particle physics, Oren realized that she was looking into Catherine’s past and future, that she was now connected to the world in a timeless, endless way Oren would never know.

Maeve’s eyes closed. The temperature rose and her hair fell against her back. The previously neat locks were now tangled and messy.

Catherine opened her eyes and looked up at Maeve. Whatever she saw did not reassure her, because she leapt to her feet and backed up against the wall.

“Wh-what just happened?”

No one answered.

Oren could feel Cali and Margo staring at Maeve.
 

“Holy fuck.” Cali’s words broke the silence, and alleviated much of the tension.

“Okay, now I know why the guys are scared of her,” Margo added.

“She’s…she’s a monster?” Catherine squeaked. “I thought she was sleeping with Henry!”

“Henry is one of my Clans-men and like a brother to me,” Maeve said. Her voice had lost some of that hypnotic quality. She took a step and nearly stumbled.

Without thinking, Oren jumped up and grabbed her. It was only as her body pressed to his that his brain registered a protest—she was dangerous to touch. But she wasn’t. She was fascinating.

He helped her to the couch where she sat down. Margo edged discretely away.

“Is anyone going to tell me what just happened?” Catherine demanded.

“Maeve can see people’s pasts,” Margo said. From the hesitation between the words, Oren could tell she was picking them carefully. “She’s here to help us figure out who did this.”

“She can read my mind?”
 

“No.” Maeve shook her head and Oren put his arm around her shoulders. “I can look into your past.”

“What, how?”

“Don’t ask,” Oren warned her. “At least you weren’t in your car. Maeve ambushed me. I almost had an accident.”

Catherine’s gaze swung to him. “They did this to you?”

“I was suspect
numero uno
until Maeve told them I didn’t do it.”

Catherine’s gaze swung to Maeve. Everyone else followed her lead, looking to Maeve for a verdict.

“I do not see it in her past and, like Oren, her good futures depend on the success of the movie.”

“Future? You can see my future?” Catherine dropped down into a chair. “Oh my God.”

“There is no single future,” Maeve said.

Oren saw Margo wince and guessed that Margo had not wanted Catherine to know that Maeve could look into people’s futures.

“But…you could see what will happen to me.”

“Yes.”

“Well, what did you see?” Catherine’s eyes were bright, intense.

“I will not tell you.” Maeve pulled her hair over her shoulder, looked at the tangled mess and sighed.

“Why not? Do I die?”

“Everyone dies, but I won’t tell you because that wouldn’t be fun.”

“
Fun?
”

“But you should go to the doctor.”

“Now? What’s wrong with me?”

“Not now, but regularly. I’m fairly sure humans have early detection systems for…” Maeve’s voice trailed off and she shrugged.
 

“For what? What’s wrong with me?” Catherine took a few steps, as if she were going to shake the information from Maeve.

“Catherine,” Oren warned, holding his hand up to stop her.

Catherine knocked his hand away and grabbed the seated Maeve. At her touch, Maeve’s attention shot to Catherine.

“Tell me!”

Maeve rose to her feet and took hold of Catherine’s wrists. The other woman’s eyes went wide before a terrified scream burst from her. She tried to jerk back, but Maeve didn’t let go. The fingers wrapping Catherine’s wrists had once again lengthened and developed claws.

“Maeve, you’re hurting her,” Oren said in a low voice. He was tense with the need to jump up and separate them, and behind him he could hear Margo calling for help.
 

“I know.”

“Are you going to stop?”

“When she learns.”

Catherine’s eyes were open, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Learns what?”

“To fear me.”

With that, Maeve let go. Catherine fell to the floor, her wrists hitting with a
thunk
. There were patches of white banding her wrists and as Oren watched, they started to flush pink.

“You burned her…with ice.” Oren was now sure that he hadn’t imagined the cold air that sometimes whirled around her.

“I have an…affinity to water.”

“Water-bending…” Cali muttered.

Maeve looked over her shoulder at Oren. “It would be much crueler to touch her with steam.” Their gazes met, and he’d never been as aware as he was in that moment of how different they were.

“Will she recover?”

“Of course.” Maeve bent down and grabbed Catherine’s hand. The other woman tried to pull away, but Maeve persisted and pulled her up by her feet. Maeve smiled and Catherine could only blink.

“You’re fine.” Maeve patted her shoulder. “And you will be fine.”

The door to the trailer burst open and Michael stood there. For a moment, Oren thought he could see a faint glow around Michael.
 

“Is everyone still alive?”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

Michael’s attention shifted to Catherine. “You okay, Catherine?”

“I…think so.”

“Come on, let’s go get some tea.” He held out his hand, but Catherine balked. Nodding, he stepped back and held open the door. “I won’t touch you.”

As Catherine left with Michael, Oren heard him tell her, “Maeve is scary as fuck and we’ve all had our asses kicked by her at one point.”

Maeve turned to Cali. “Who is next?”

Oren ran shaking hands over his head.
 

She was a banshee.

She’d told him what she was, and the fact that she came from the same place as the guys was a clear indicator that she wasn’t human, but until now he’d had a hard time really understanding that. Intellectually, he could process the information, but emotionally he’d categorized her as quirky-hot girl who seemed a little deranged at times.

But she wasn’t a girl—she was a very powerful being who was connected to the universe. She was a player, whereas he was just a pawn.

“Next is Lance.”

“Lance?” Oren looked up. “But he’s a guy.”

“And gay as Elton John’s sunglasses. I’ve heard him refer to himself as a lady.”

Oren nodded. That made sense, and if he’d been thinking clearly last night, he would have thought of that too. The blogger had said “she” and it had stuck.
 

Lena, who had been keeping Lance occupied, walked him over. As she was about to leave, Margo asked her, “Have you been able to find Nell?”

“Not yet.”

Oren stayed. Knowing that he had been the first suspect and that he too had been touched by Maeve had calmed Catherine. It might work the same way with Lance.