Smoke and Ashes (21 page)

“No one is erasing anyone's memory!” CB's protest added a certain verisimilitude to the bluff.

Tossing her hair back over her shoulders, Leah crossed to kneel gracefully by Kevin's feet. Reaching out, she took both his hands—and his backpack straps—in hers. No sign of Ryne Cyratane and no sign CB was reacting.

She's playing the long shot. Appealing to Kevin's better nature.
Given what he did for a living, wondering if he even had one seemed redundant.

“Kevin, please. Work with us. Don't just report the truth, become a part of it. Make a stand against the darkness you
know
exists. Be one of the heroes.”

He rolled his eyes. “Heroes die young.”

Yeah. Redundant.

“Mr. Groves, if you don't want to help, we cannot…will not force you.” CB sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together. “Mr. Foster, return his equipment and show him out.”

“Just like that?” Ragged unison from everyone in the room who wasn't Chester Bane.

“Yes.”

Kevin pulled free of Leah's hands and stood. “You're just going to let me go and tell the world what I've seen?”

“Mr. Groves, I have spent my entire career ignoring what the tabloids print about me. I think I can manage to ignore this as well.”

“You don't think anyone will believe me.”

“Have they ever?” As the reporter sputtered, Tony caught Leah's eye and shook his head. Kevin could spot a lie and, so far, he hadn't accused the boss of lying. She closed her mouth as CB sighed. “People have no interest in the truth, Mr. Groves. They'll enjoy the story while it's being told and forget it the instant the next story comes along. It's why television is so successful.”

“Reality TV…”

“Isn't. Now, if you don't mind, in spite of delays…” Somehow he made the delays seem like they were Tony's fault. “…I have a show to produce.”

“No. You need the page I found!”

“I expect we'll continue to manage without it.”

“It could have important information!”

“Mr. Foster, tell Ms. Chou to arrange to have my couch cleaned. Ms. Burnett…” He frowned at her. “If you intend to continue hanging about my studio, find something to do.”

Kevin didn't quite stamp his foot. “You need the information I have!”

“And you haven't convinced me of that. Good afternoon, Mr. Groves.”

“Then I will convince you!”

“Fine.”

“I'll prove it to you!”

“Very well.”

“I'll be back with that page. It has important information!”

“I look forward to you proving it to me. You will, however, have some difficulty returning if you don't actually leave.” The final word carried enough volume to lift Tony and Leah to their feet as well and move all three of them across the office and out the door.

Kevin pointed a finger at the two of them. “Don't go anywhere.” Then he turned and ran for the street.

“Don't let the door hit you on the way out, asshat!” One hand covering the phone, Amy flipped him off with the other. “Thank you for holding, Father Thomas; we really need to use that graveyard…”

Leah smoothed down her clothes; not because they needed it, more because she needed something to do with her hands. “Your boss is an impressive man.”

“Yeah.” Tony carefully detached the rest of the shirt from his chest. “All his ex-wives think so.”

“I meant he's a manipulative s.o.b.”

“They'll probably agree with that, too.”

Amy hung up and grinned at them as they drew even with her desk. “I got you the g…u…n.”

“I can spell,” Leah sighed.

“I'm not spelling it out for you.” She jerked her head toward the bull pen. “I don't want that lot to get excited. It's never pretty. Anyway, the guy's bringing it over later.”

“Tonight?” Tony asked incredulously.

“This very.”

“That was fast.”

“I'm the best.”

“You're kind of scary.”

“Just part of my charm.” Head cocked, she examined him through narrowed eyes. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I don't know what she's going to do,” he nodded at Leah as he pulled polyester away from his body. He might have the whole world in his hand, but he also had wet fabric in the crack of his ass. “But
I'm
going to talk to Rachel and then I'm going to get my laundry out of my car and change my pants.”

“A
LL RIGHT, THAT ONE
works for me.” Peter tossed his headphones onto his chair and walked out into Raymond Dark's office, one fist pressed against the small of his back to knuckle out the stiffness of a fourteen-hour day. “Mason, you happy with it?”

“I'm happy with anything that lets me get rid of these damned teeth,” Mason muttered around the fingers shoved into his mouth. “I bit my lip again.”

“Bad?”

“Nothing that'll show on camera; thanks for the sympathy.”

“You're welcome. Lee?”

Lee, sprawled on the red velvet sofa, waved a weary hand. “It was art. Emmys all around. Are we done?”

“We're done. That's it, people…” Peter raised his voice as he turned to face the crew. “…good work, thanks for staying late, and make sure you have tomorrow's sides before you leave.”

That wasn't it, of course, but with the last shot in the can the mood lifted as everyone found enough energy to get them through wrap-up and out the door. With no demons currently ripping either place or people apart, Tony did what he always did. He made sure the radios were back where they belonged, put the batteries in the charger, ran an errand for Peter, helped Tina close the trunk she locked her computer gear into, had a short meeting with Adam about an error in the advance schedule—where meeting would be defined as Adam pointing it out and telling him to see that it got fixed—and then he was done and the rest of the crew were heading for cars and home and the soundstage was empty.

Nearly empty.

Leah was somewhere around.

And Lee was standing just inside the door, watching him, his face expressionless enough that it was kind of creepy.

“What?” Tony demanded. He'd stopped just a little too close, almost inside the other man's personal space, but if he backed up now, he'd look like a dork.

“You're staying in case another demon shows up.”

“That was the plan.”

“It's not a great plan.”

“Yeah? So far it's wizard three, demons big fat zero—nada, zilch, and three asses kicked. I think it's a workable plan.”

“Workable,” Lee snorted, rolling his eyes. Expressions were catching up to him—concern, disdain, and exasperation chased themselves across his face. “You're just going to live in the soundstage until this Demonic Convergence is over?”

“It won't last forever.”

“You don't know that.”

Shrugging, Tony tried to look like a wizard on top of things. “When it happened before, it ended. Precedent suggests it'll end this time.”

“Precedent suggests? Precedent?” A twisted smile appeared to punctuate the silent but obvious
give me a fucking break.
“What? You've been watching Court TV?”

Tony chose to answer the actual question. “Nah, CITY's had
Ironside
running Mondays at midnight. Raymond Burr,” he added at Lee's blank stare. “Wheelchair lawyer? Black-and-white lawyer show ran from ‘61 to ‘68? Dude, it's classic television.”

“I'm not big on the classics.” Lee sketched air quotes around the word classics, body language relaxing as they moved away from demons and wizards. “I don't watch anything older than I am.”

“Your loss. You're missing your own history.”

“My history?”

“As an actor.”

“Ah. Well, maybe someday you can expose me.” Challenging eyes. Flirty smile. Tony took an involuntary step back, not caring how it made him look.
Never a demon around when you need one…

Hang on. Flirty smile?

Was Lee possessed again?

Tony cleared his throat. “Expose you?”

“To my history.”

“Ah.”

The pause stretched toward uncomfortably long, and Tony frowned as the expression left Lee's face.
And how am I supposed to respond? We don't do that joking around with sexuality thing anymore, remember? Not since you took that one step too far—and may I point out that it was you and not me. But, hey, you responded to Leah this afternoon, so now you're comfortable in your sexuality again and I'm fair game.
His brain just wouldn't shut up about it. “Look, some guys like black and white, some guys don't. Some guys try it but end up holding on to the whole Technicolor thing.” Great. Now his mouth was in on it.

Any chance the anvil missed?

“Tony…”

No chance in hell. In any of the hells.

The coyote wouldn't have missed with that anvil.

And now it's his turn to pause—except his pauses seem to be meaningful instead of empty. I wonder if I hurt his feelings by reminding him of how he gets indiscriminating under stress? Now that's an idea; he should hang around, and if the next demon's big enough, I could do him up against the wall after the fight.

Shut
up,
brain!

“…I just want you to be careful. Okay? Since there's seems to be nothing I can do to help—even if I thought you meant it…”

Martyr much?

“…I just, well, be careful.”

Without waiting for an answer, he was gone.

Tony stared at the door for a moment, wondered what he'd been reaching out for, and let his hand drop to his side.

“He wants you.”

“Bite me.”

“And you have some unresolved aggression toward him.” Leah fell into step beside him as he turned and headed for the area under the gate. “You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“There's not a lot I don't know about the psychology of sex.”

“There is no sex.”

“Why not?”

“Because he's straight.”

“Please.”

“Why are you even still here?” he demanded, moving into her path and stopping suddenly, forcing her to stop as well. “I thought you were off to live your life, to take a chance, refusing to be held hostage by your Demonlord's expectations.”

“That sounds like bad country music.”

“You said you weren't going to cower behind me.”

“I'm not cowering,” she snapped. “But given what happened this afternoon, I think staying behind you might be my best option. You're here, so I'm here.”

“The demons…”

“The demons won't be sneaking up on me if I'm sitting here waiting for them, will they?” Something in Leah's face told Tony not to press it. Told him she'd been a lot more freaked by the demon in the parking lot than she'd let on, and what she didn't want to be was alone. “Besides,” she added, pushing past him, “I've got nothing that pressing to do until Tuesday anyway. What on earth makes you think that Lee is straight?”

Tony scrambled to catch up. “He sleeps with women.”

“Oh, yes, that's conclusive. Moron.”

“He got stupid over you.”

“Ninety percent of the male population does. Means nothing. Didn't you see
Kinsey?
”

“Sure. Liam Neeson totally got screwed by the Oscars that year.”

“Granted, but my point is that if most of the world's population is neither completely gay nor completely straight, then even the odds are in your favor. I'm not sure why he'd choose you to break cover with; I mean, you're just passably attractive, reasonably intelligent, excitingly powerful, remarkably pleasant, appealingly broad-minded, definitely loyal, and appallingly self-sacrificing.”

Reeling under the torrent of adjectives, Tony opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“Next to a man like, say, Liam Neeson,” she continued before he could find his voice, “you're practically invisible. He's someone I'd do in a minute.”

“Right,” Tony snorted, finding his voice. “You'd do ninety percent of the male population in a minute.”

She shrugged. “Eighty max.”

“Kevin Groves.”

“Fine. Eighty-one.” She dropped down onto the end of the chaise lounge. “It's always amazed me,” she sighed, “that two men can ever manage to get together at all, given the whole lack of being articulate. Maybe he's scared.”

“Lee? Scared? Of me?”

“Don't be dumber than you have to, okay?

Tony dragged his jeans back up over his hips—they were a little big and shoving his hands in his pockets dragged them low—and sat down beside her. “You sounded like Amy.”

“You discuss your sex life with Amy?”

“Okay, first, Lee has nothing to do with my sex life, and two, are you insane? Give Amy an inch and she'll take a kilometer.”

A dark brow rose and one hand patted his thigh. “Mixed metaphors, that's what's wrong with the world.” Leah glanced around the empty soundstage as though she'd lost something. “Where
is
Amy? Based on our very short acquaintance, I would have thought she'd be here.”

“She left with the rest of the office staff. She had a date.”

“On a Thursday? Good for her. I'm all for a sister getting some.”

“Big surprise. Not. But it's just for coffee at Ginger Joe's—it's a Goth coffee place she likes. She's meeting a guy she knows from the net.”

“You told her to be careful because she didn't know this guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And she told you that you were the one waiting for a demon, so you should be the one being careful, right?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah.”

Leah nodded, smug. “After a few thousand years, people get predictable.”

 

“So where's your partner?”

Jack jumped and only just resisted spinning around and answering the question physically. He put most of the energy into slamming the door of his truck and managed to turn with something approaching calm. “She's home with her kids. Tony call you?”

Henry Fitzroy nodded and Jack wanted to wipe the smug, superior look right off his face. Which wasn't fair because all the guy had done was nod, but there was something about him, something that made Jack want to fall in behind him and charge the shield wall. He wasn't even sure what a shield wall was, but he fucking hated the feeling.

“Tony tell you what's going on?”

“Yes.”

Yes? That's it? Fine, you want to be mister one word answer, we don't need to talk.
But the dark eyes were strangely compelling, and Jack's mouth kept moving without any apparent prodding from his brain. “He thinks the demons are attracted to the soundstage, to his accumulated power at the soundstage.”

“But you don't believe that.”

“He's not telling me everything.”

“Why would he?”

“Because…” Jack had a feeling that
because I told him to
wouldn't fly. “Because it's my job to protect the public!”

“I think we've moved some distance away from your actual job description, Constable.”

“No, we haven't. Look…” He folded his arms, unable to look away but unwilling to appear compliant. “…I catch the bad guys; that's what I do. These are bad guys. In order to catch them—all right, deal with them,” he added as a red-gold brow rose, “I need to have all the facts. Which I don't.”

“Perhaps he doesn't think you can cope with all the facts.”

“Well, he should try me.”

“Yes. Perhaps he should.”

Distracted by Fitzroy's too-charming smile, it took Jack a moment to realize that the other man's eyes weren't dark at all but hazel. Frowning, he matched his shorter stride as they headed toward the studio's back door.

“I assume you're here as backup muscle? He sent me out to buy cherry-flavored cough medicine,” Fitzroy continued before Jack could answer. “A specific brand that's, unfortunately, not particularly popular.” He hefted a bulging canvas bag. “I had to visit nearly every drugstore on the lower mainland before I found the volume he asked for.”

“What's Tony going to do with that much cherry-flavored cough medicine?”

“He's going to do magic, Constable Elson.”

 

“What the hell was that?”

“I think someone's at the back door,” Leah sighed.

“Right.” On his feet, heart pounding, Tony could barely hear short, sharp bursts of the buzzer over the thrum of blood in his ears. “Do you think it's a demon?”

“I think demons seldom ask to be let in. And I think that your boss gave the security guard the night off, so you'd better get it.”