Geekomancy (32 page)

Footsteps. Ree put her ear to the door and heard them coming toward her. She threw Drake a thumbs-up, and he walked toward the corner, leaving her alone as the steps grew close.

Ree stepped back and smiled, then dropped to a neutral expression.
How do I play this? Happy to see him, angry at his continued dumbassery? Compassionate and empathetic for his obviously crazy-emo situation?

The door creaked open, swinging on the when-were-you-last-oiled? hinges.

Standing in the doorway, Eastwood looked tired, even worse than Drake. His hair was mussed, his shirt was stained by what might have been sweet-and-sour sauce but was probably blood, his pants were rumpled, and his face was mottled with purple and blue bruises. The way he held himself made Ree think he might have other bruises elsewhere.
What put him through the wringer?

“Thanks for answering the door.”

Eastwood sighed. “What do you want?”

“I think we owe it to each other to sit down and talk like vaguely adult-type people.”

“I’m busy,” Eastwood said.

“No, really?”
Snark not helping now, girlie.
“Sorry. Ten minutes?”

Still holding the door, Eastwood settled his weight onto his right leg. He curled his lip, considering, then stepped back, leaving the door open for her. He turned and walked back inside slowly. Which was when Ree saw the blaster he carried in his right hand.
He’d probably been ready to blow me away, or was that for someone or something else?

Ree walked down the stacks and stopped in front of Eastwood’s wall of screens. She turned and saw him put the blaster down and pick up a thermos of something that she hoped was caffeine and not booze.

“Do you have the fifth soul?” she asked. No reason to beat around the bush. Well, there were plenty of reasons, but if he’d already done the deal, then what was the point?

“No.”

“Do you have a lead?”

“Are you here to stop me?” Eastwood asked, crossing his arms and sitting on the desk, his back to the dozen screens that showed
Star Trek
reruns, CNN, and on one screen, a live-updating RSS feed that included Pearson PD, what looked like voice-to-text transcripts of a suicide hotline, and several other emergency services.

Ree waved at the screens. “I killed the Muse. Your chances of a natural suicide that fits the bill today are what, a million to one?”

Eastwood’s nostrils flared, and with the puffiness around his eyes, it looked like he could start to cry. “If I don’t deliver, Branwen will be tortured for eternity.”

Ree stepped toward Eastwood. Even sitting on the desk, he was taller, but she did her best to up the menace factor. “So you’ll condemn five innocents to take her place?”

Eastwood exhaled, his brow set as he waited a second. “Yes.”

“And when she gets back, what will she do when she finds out what you did?”

Eastwood looked like a petulant child. The same look Ree had used a hundred times on her father and saw little kids use every day to get a cookie from their parents at the café.

“It’ll be too late then. No one would willingly go back. She’ll learn to forgive me,” he said.

He’s just another hurt lover missing the one who got away. Shit, who of us doesn’t?

“I don’t know. You make her out to be pretty saint-tacular. Why do you get to make this choice for her, to say that her life is worth more than five children?”

Eastwood’s mouth flexed like he was about to say something but swallowed it instead. “I don’t have to explain myself. Are you here to help or to lecture me?”

“Are you going to be a petulant selfish ass, or are you going to listen to reason?” Ree regretted the harshness as soon as she finished, but damnit, she was in the right.
Moral high ground, population = me
. Ree didn’t want to live in a world where sacrificing a bunch of kids was something the good guys did. “Why did you even get me involved if you were dealing in crap like this? Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you were up to?”

Eastwood shook his head. “I could tell in the alley that you weren’t going to walk away without an explanation. I sent you to the Moorelys’ to put the fear of God in you, but you had the dumb luck to get jumped by that Atavist and ended up pissed off instead. By then I knew you were too dug in. And I thought maybe you’d want to help me even after finding out.”

“What the hell makes you think I would ever—” Ree paused to fume. “Ever help you do that to those kids?”

Eastwood’s eyes lit up with anger, and he growled, launching off the desk and walking away from her. “She told me not to do this, but if you’re not going to listen, then I don’t give a flying frak.”

Hey, what the who now? What’s he talking about?

He took another few steps, then turned back to face her. “Branwen nic Catrin was her name here, in the magical underground. But she was born Sionnan Casey.”

By Lucas’s Force Ghost . . .

Mom?

Ree crash-landed through a dozen emotions, skidding across surprise, disbelief, anger, relief, guilt, and settling again on anger.

“What?
What? Are you fucking kidding me?
You knew my mother, were trying to bring her back, and you waited until now to tell me?” Ree took a step toward Eastwood, her ears hot. “Why would she tell you not to say anything? And while we’re at it, why the hell did she leave the first time? My dad nearly died when she left. He put his life together piece-by-LEGO-sized piece after she walked out on us, and for what? So she could play Jedi with a hacker burnout?”

Eastwood backed up onto the desk, hands up to placate her. “Slow down. I can’t answer eight questions all at once.”

“Then get started.”

“I can do you one step better.” Eastwood picked through a pile of papers and hardware on the desk and handed her a cube.

“What’s this, a holocron?” she asked, turning the cube over in her hands.

“Not quite. This has a USB port.” Eastwood plugged the cube in and ran his fingers over one of the desk’s many keyboards. Ree sat in one of Eastwood’s cushy chairs, dead tired but with a strange energy running through her.

The wall of monitors all went black. A moment later, they showed her mother against a blue background. She was older than Ree remembered, maybe mid-forties. Her brown hair was pulled back in a complicated braid. She wore simple cloth-spun clothes and a leather vest. Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot.

This could be a fake,
Ree thought.

“Hello, Ree. I’ve tried to record this message, I swear, a hundred times, but I can’t get the words right. I should have sent cards, presents; I should have been there for you, and I miss you every day. I miss you and Julio both, but I couldn’t stay.

“I stopped doing magic when your father and I settled down. I knew I couldn’t risk anything happening to Julio and then to you. But I couldn’t stop being who I was. Every TV show, every commercial, every book and song pulled at me, begged me to fall into it. And when I did, the next show called. I kept shifting, my mind rearranging with each new input. Some Geekomancers can handle the changes, but not me. I was too much a specialist, I couldn’t keep up.”

Ree’s doubt fell away like the years, and she felt like a kid again. She wanted to reach out, to touch her, to have her mother gather her up in her arms and make the hurt go away. But she was gone, and the only way to get her back was unthinkable.

Her mother looked away from the camera, wiping her eyes. “A friend called it genre-schizophrenia, and it nearly drove me mad. I couldn’t cut you off from the world, couldn’t tell Julio that the stories that had brought us together were making me unhinged. I couldn’t . . . I did my best, tried to fend off the barrage, but I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“That’s crap!” Ree said, turning to Eastwood. “Isn’t it? I’ve been doing this for a week, and none of that has happened.”

“Keep listening, Ree,” was all he said.

“. . . working to protect people here, and I hope you will forgive me. I told Eastwood to help me stay away, because I don’t want your life to go off the rails like mine did. Once you get into this world, it’s nearly impossible to get out without losing everything about yourself.

“But if you’re listening to this, something went wrong, either that or I need to kick Eastwood’s ass. And he knows I can.” Ree’s mother smiled at that, and looking over, Ree saw Eastwood’s cheeks flush.

“He’ll help you as much as he can, but the best thing he can do is to help you stay out of this crazy messed-up marvel of an occult underground. Everyone has screwed-up relationships, short life expectancies, and a crap insurance plan. So there you go, the completely unromanticized, no-shit-it’s-scary introduction to the world of magic and Geekomancy. I’m sorry it isn’t like
Star Wars
or
Princess Bride
or anything where the good guys always win in the end and the girl gets to ride off or fly off with the handsome rogue in the great vest.”

“Wow, Mom. Bummer much?” Ree said, trying to keep her cool.

Sionnan continued. “Bummer, I know.”

Ree laughed.
I really am your kid.
She hugged the cube to her chest and remembered the way her mother smelled. Lavender and rosemary, from the shampoo and soap.

“I can’t tell you what to do or how to live your life. I just hope that whatever you choose, you trust in yourself and bring all of your energy to it like you’ve done with everything so far. I wish I were here with you right now, that I never had to leave.”

A tear beaded at the corner of her eye, then trickled down to her mouth. “Please tell your father that I love him and that I’m sorry.”

Sionnan touched something underneath the camera, and the video feed cut off.

Ree sniffed, her nose snotting up worse than when she’d first seen the end of
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
. She’d been six, lying across the laps of her parents.

Well, crap. What am I supposed to do with that?

“I’m not going to stop, Ree.” A quiver worked its way into Eastwood’s voice, his steadiness faltering.

He doesn’t want to do it,
Ree thought. She stood, moving in at an angle, trying to get a bead on the man. She threw back her shoulders, drew herself up to her full height.
I can talk him out of this.

“What do you think my mom will say when she hears what you did to get her back? Do you think she’ll give you a big kiss and say thanks? I know my mom, maybe not as well as you, but all of those shows and movies you shared, the ones that I never knew tore her apart, they were all about the heroic few fighting for the many, not
fucking over the little guy to win
.”

Ree wiped a tear out of her eye as she stared down Eastwood. “You do this, and you’re the bad guy, twirly mustache and all. And I’ll have to stop you.”

Eastwood stood, defensive. His own eyes were teary. His nostrils flared, and he stepped forward. “I’ve shown you what you needed to see. I could blast where you stand. Or you could join me. And when it’s done, you’ll have your mother back. And
then
she can judge me however she likes.”

Ree stood and closed on Eastwood. “Screw that. If I knock your ass out and tie you up to your stacks, you miss the deadline, and the Duke gets nothing.”

“You’re going to take me on here, in my own home?” Eastwood laughed.

“This stuff works for me as well as you. And you can’t afford to waste me—how would you explain that to my mom? So, you’re going to back the fuck down, and we’re going to figure out a different way to get her back.” Ree gestured to the stacks, drawing his attention to the shelves as she pushed a button on the smartphone in her pocket, dialing Drake.

Anger flashed across Eastwood’s eyes, and he straightened his posture to loom over Ree. “Don’t you think I’ve already been down this path? I didn’t exactly jump directly to this bargain, kid. I spent the last two years of my life looking for a way to get her back.” His voice broke. “One of those attempts nearly got me killed. Every time I got close, the Duke showed up and handed me my ass. And when I was beaten and broken, he’d offer this bargain or that bargain. The only way I can get her back is on the Duke’s terms. This is my last chance, Ree.”

Ree reached for her knife and Eastwood grabbed her hand.

It’s on now.
Ree shot her left hand under Eastwood’s right and wrapped him up into an arm-bar, pushing down to knock the larger man off balance. Eastwood spun and ripped the knife out of her hand as he broke distance.

Ree pulled out her cell and shouted, “Get in here now!”

She ducked behind one of the stacks and pulled out an oft-reused prop gun. It looked like it dated all the way back to
Aliens
. She flipped off the safety and clicked the gun over to three-round bursts.