Smoke and Ashes (31 page)

“You don't know that.”

“You're not her type. You're way too normal.”

A pale brow arced up. “I took a sick day to hunt demons.”

“Maybe normal isn't the right word.” Tony paused and frowned at the screen. “Here it is. Finding.”

“What? Nemo?”

Tony double-clicked the icon. “There're a few files in here. Finding Living Creatures…”

“The demons are living.”

“Yeah, but we're not trying to find demons, we're trying to find where demons will be.”

“Time travel?”

“Not allowed.”

Jack finished his coffee and crushed the cup. “Too bad.”

“Finding Inanimate Objects.”

“I've lost my TV remote.”

“It's in the sofa cushions.”

“I am in awe of your power. Nothing on finding your way to hell?”

“Wrong reference material.” Tony grinned as Jack snorted. “Here it is. Finding a Power Source.”

“You need to be plugged in?”

“I don't think so.” He scanned the instructions. “I need a map.”

“I've got one in my truck.”

 

The wardrobe department needed more space. Which was pretty much true of every department but finance; they had plenty of space but needed more money. Wardrobe made it obvious with a leaning tower of shoe boxes, shelves six deep in hats, and bolts of fabric piled by color and weight. Since most of the fabric had been bought as remainders, some of the colors were a little frightening. A huge chart delineating what costumes were needed and when covered one wall. Sketches had been pinned up to every nonmoving surface as well as a couple of surfaces that weren't moving now but would be later. The actual clothing hung out in the hall.

When Tony came in with Jack's map, he found Alison Larkin on her knees in front of the thinnest of the staff writers, adjusting the length of an apron over a full peasant skirt. Dana, her most recent assistant, sat bent over one of the three sewing machines.

“I need to iron a map.”

“We're busy,” Alison snapped without looking up.

“I don't need
you
to iron it,” Tony amended, wondering if she'd ever swallowed a pin. “I need to iron it.”

“Why? Never mind. Don't touch that dirndl on the ironing board! Toss the sheet of white felt down on the cutting table and do it there. And Roger…” She slapped a hairy calf. “…stop fucking moving, or I'll stick you on purpose. We've got another eight of these to get through.”

Be sure the map is free of creases.

Ironing the map, not a problem. Not much of a problem anyway. Getting it back to the soundstage without folding it was a little trickier. Tony shuffled sideways through the costumes, arms outstretched, swearing softly under his breath and wondering why they had half a rack of silver lamé jumpsuits.

The door out into the production office opened as he passed and only a last second, desperate lunge to the right kept Leah—and Lee right behind her—from slamming new creases into his map.

“Tony! Good news!””

He continued shuffling toward the soundstage. “I could use some.”

“It's possible that because of the way the energy is being used this Demonic Convergence won't go on as long as it has in the past.”

“According to?”

“According to the book that your friend Henry provided last night.” Following close behind, she waved it in his general direction.

Tony peered at it over the upper edge of the map. It didn't look much like a book. It looked more like a lot of loose, yellowing pages crammed inside a worn, brown leather cover.

“While you were sleeping,” she continued, “I was working on a translation.”

With first Jack and then Lee in the office with her, Tony doubted that was all she'd been doing. A glance past her at Lee showed the actor was looking a little ruffled. And wizards saw what was there, didn't they? Hey, more power to him. Tony was all in favor of everybody getting some. A happy Demonlord was a…well, he was a happy Demonlord, that's what he was, and a happy Demonlord was probably less likely to send over demons to slaughter his favorite handmaiden.
More's the pity.

“Are you grinding your teeth?”

“No.” He stepped over a pair of old steel-toed work boots painted in patterns that might look like urban camouflage on a thirteen-inch TV. In HDTV, not so much.

“Ryne Cyratane is using the energy up.”

That was enough to stop him. The ironed paper rustled. “What?”

“The Demonic Convergence produces a limited amount of energy. Usually, it's spread out more and the world is dealing with small shit for months. One or two demons show up near the end.”

“Because the energy burns through the hells like acid rain,” Lee expanded. “As time passes, stronger drops burn right through the upper layers and end in deeper, nastier places.” From his tone, he'd been the one to come up with that bit of description.

Before or after the two of them tested the strength of CB's coffee table?
They wouldn't have used the couch, or the floor, or the desk…it had to have been the coffee table.
Why am I thinking about this?
he asked himself as he started moving toward the soundstage again—which meant moving away from Leah and Lee. Giving them room. They, of course, followed.
So much for symbolism
.

And hang on…

Another look at Lee. “She told you?”

The actor nodded. “End of the world as we know it.”

Was he blushing? The light in the hall was so bad Tony couldn't tell. Not that it was any of his damned business. “So all this means the Demonic Convergence is going to end…when?”

“Sooner. We're not talking months; a month maybe. Maybe not even that if he keeps up this pace. Which raises the question, why is he going to all this effort? If demons always show up at the end of the Convergence—which, according to this…” The book was waved for emphasis. “…they always do.”

“Always?” Tony interrupted.

“According to this book.”

“Didn't you tell me they
sometimes
show up at the end of the Convergence?”

“That was before I had a first-person account to read. And they happen more often than I thought, too.” She smiled. It was a remarably sarcastic expression. “So now I've proved I'm not infallible, can we move on?”

He shrugged, careful not to crinkle the map.

“Ryne Cyratane is not big on…” Dark brows drew in. “Why are you carrying a map of the lower mainland and why you are carrying it like such a spaz?”

“It's for a spell.”

“Oh. All right, then.”

He managed to hold back a bitchy
Glad you approve
long enough for Leah to continue talking.

“Ryne Cyratane,” she repeated, “is not big on personal effort. It would be more like him to wait and use whatever was going to get through at the end regardless. This is bigger than we thought. He's really motivated.”

“Why?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Okay.” Good to know the time frame had been shortened—a half season of Convergence instead of the full twenty-two episodes—but from where Tony stood, that didn't make a lot of difference. He flattened against the soundstage's outer wall to give them room to get past. “Can one of you get the soundstage d…”

The soundstage door opened.

“…never mind.”

“Hello, pretty lady!” Framed in the doorway, Mason smiled unctuously down at Leah. “If you're here to watch me tape, we're done for the day, but I'd be happy to make the trip worth your while and sign a few photos. I have some in my dressing room…”

“She's not a fan, Mason,” Tony interrupted before Leah took him up on it. Not the signed photos but the other nonverbalized offer. “She's a stuntwoman here to talk to Peter about the last episode.”

“Ah.” Red-gold brows drew in as he visibly retreated back out of sexual harassment territory. Fans wanted his attention. Coworkers weren't fans. “Am I throwing you off the windmill?”

“Very likely.”

Gray eyes gleamed. “I'm sure I'll enjoy having you in my arms.”

Ryne Cyratane flickered as she smiled up at Mason. “You have no idea.”

“Leah! The
stunt!
”

“What st…oh. Right.” She reluctantly dialed it back and the Demonlord disappeared. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Reed.” Dimples flashed. “My mother loved you in
StreetCred!
”

Tony winced as Mason deflated. This was the first he'd ever seen Leah turn off a guy's interest as fast as she turned it on.
Nothing like a reminder you used to be a network cop and now you're a syndicated vampire,
he mused as Mason stepped into the hall and squeezed past his costar. With the soundstage open before him, he could move a little faster.

Too fast to catch just what Mason muttered to Lee that Lee denied so vehemently. Given the salacious tone to the muttering, and the source, it wasn't hard to fill in the blanks.

“I hear stuntwomen are very athletic and flexible.”
Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge.

“I would never take advantage of a coworker, you cad!”

Great. His brain seemed to be lifting dialogue from Henry's books.

“What's the spell?” Leah demanded, catching up.

Tony listened to be sure Lee's footsteps were following behind them. “I'm going to search for the power signatures of the weak spots. The spell should tell us not only where they are but how close they are to opening, so we'll know which ones to close first. It's possible…” Not very likely, he admitted silently to himself, but possible. “…that it'll also map out where the next few weak spots are going to be.”

“Predictive magic? Wow. You worked that out yourself?”

“Thanks for sounding so surprised.”

“No.” Hand against her heart. “I'm impressed. You're taking charge.”

Hey, he was a hero. “Yeah, I am.”

As they crossed to the chaise, Sorge left Jack's side with a wave and instructions to have a good weekend.

“What were you two talking about?” Leah demanded as Tony carefully laid the map on the floor.

Jack snorted. “I have no idea.”

Somehow, staring down at the map lying flat made Tony intensely aware of how thin most people's versions of reality were. Most people believed that this was all there was. He kind of missed believing that. Dropping to his knees, he bent carefully and began to breathe on the paper.

Leah broke off explaining demonic acid rain to Jack to ask him what he was doing.

“The instructions say that the map must know the wizard. This was the least gross option.” He finished up by panting at Richmond and stood. “Jack, could you…” His open laptop appeared at the edge of his peripheral vision. “Thanks. Now everyone step back. I need to circle the map three times.”

“Shouldn't you be naked? What?” Leah protested as he turned. “So nothing would happen; I still like to look.”

Jack waved a hand. “Pass on the naked: public indecency. I'd be forced to use the cuffs.”

“Don't worry about the naked,” Tony snorted. “I'll just be reading some words out loud while I walk. Long, complicated words so, once I start, no interruptions.”

“You don't go through this when you call things to you,” Lee reminded him. “You just reach for things and they're there.”

He'd reached for Lee once.

“That's a good point.” Jack nodded an acknowledgment at the actor. “What makes this different?”

“Do you play an instrument?” Tony asked him, grateful for the redirect.

“Yeah.”

“What?”

The RCMP Constable glanced over at Leah and Lee and dragged a hand back through his hair, fingering it up into pale spikes. “Accordion.”

Much mutual blinkage.

“Okay,” Tony said quickly before Leah found her voice. “You know how, when you were learning, you had to think about everything you were doing—right hand, left hand, bellows, melody, words, rhythm, and mostly, you had to wonder why you didn't learn a cool instrument? And then, after a shitload of practice, a song clicks and you could just play without thinking about the bits? Come to Me is like that. It clicked. Other spells, I'm still figuring out as I go.”

Since that was as good a cue as any, he started his first circle. The words were not only long and complicated, but there were a shitload of them and he barely managed to get them all in. Third circle complete and the last few words crammed in tongue twister fast, he knelt by the edge of the map, breathed on his fingertips, and pressed them down on the edge of the ironed paper.