I wake up at eleven a.m. and stumble into the bathroom.
Though I feel no pain in my face, I check it for bruising.
I find none.
Did Thalia’s gloves shield me from getting marks?
No. That doesn’t help boxers.
Either the nuns developed a kind of non-damaging fighting style, or Thalia somehow took it easy on me. That’s a scary idea in itself, though. I’d hate to see what she can do if the gloves come off, both literally and metaphorically.
I’m just about done with my morning routine when someone rings the doorbell.
I tie the strap of my bathrobe and go answer it—only to find that Felix has already beaten me to it.
“Hi, dears,” Rose says to us, smiling. “I’m back, and I’m here to get Luci.”
As though waiting for that exact moment, the cat strolls into the hallway with her furry head held high.
Fluffster follows her, his shoulders down.
“Does she have to go?” he asks mentally.
“I’m afraid she does,” Rose says kindly. “She misses me like crazy.”
I look at the cat’s placid expression and back at Rose’s super-eager one, but keep my mouth shut.
For the next hour, Rose, Felix, Fluffster, and I turn into cat herders as we try to put the beast into her carrier. We manage it with no fatalities, but the casualties include a cut on Rose’s wrist and a self-inflicted bump on Felix’s forehead.
“I owe you two brunch,” Rose says to me and Felix after the monster is tamed. “And I’ll bring you the amazing walnuts I got on the trip,” she tells Fluffster.
“Deal,” Felix says. “You’ll have to also tell us about your vacation.”
Poor naïve Felix. Does he really want to hear about Rose and Vlad’s sexcapades? Because I bet that was probably the core of their vacation.
“Let’s get dressed for the trip to rehab, so we can go there right after we’re done at Rose’s,” I tell Felix as I turn to go to my room.
“I’ll need a few minutes,” Felix says to my back.
“Sure,” I say over my shoulder and enter my room.
After I dress, I use the few spare minutes Felix gave me to contemplate a magic effect I can perform for Ariel in order to cheer her up—assuming she’s conscious and is in any condition to enjoy such things today.
To really impress her, it has to be something big.
Something I’ve been saving for the TV show that will never happen now.
I scan my drawers until an almost psychic intuition draws my eyes to a pin cushion filled with sharp, shiny needles.
Bingo.
The effect in question is my twist on a classic that the likes of Houdini have performed. It’s gross and shocking—perfect for getting a great reaction from Ariel.
The only reason I was saving this for the hypothetical TV show is that the regular public (especially at my restaurant gig) wouldn’t have been as appreciative as Ariel.
I take out what I need, replace the lockpick set in my tongue with a device for this effect, and configure everything as I earlier designed it.
Deciding a quick rehearsal is in order, I walk to the mirror.
During the actual performance, I’ll have the needles examined for realness and have them counted, but for now, I just pantomime extending my hand.
Next, I open my mouth wide to show there isn’t anything there—except for an innocent-looking tongue piercing, of course. On the TV show, I was going to ask a dentist to do this, but for Ariel, I’ll just show her under my tongue, my gum line, and the roof of my mouth.
This is the point where my friends will realize something gross might happen and squeal—Ariel in excitement and Felix in horror.
Smiling in anticipation of all the reactions, I put the first needle into my mouth like a hungry masochist.
Then I put another needle in, then another, and another, until the cushion looks like a bald porcupine.
And then comes the best part: I mime swallowing it all.
When I do this for real, I’ll act it out more, with gagging and a pained expression on my face. If I remember to get water on the way to the rehab facility, I’ll chug the needles down with that as though they were pills.
If I’m lucky, Felix will faint at that point. Ariel would get an extra kick out of seeing that.
Next, I unwrap a ball of thread, cut myself a long strand, “swallow” it, and do another set of pained expressions.
At this point of the effect, the classic route is to pull the thread out of the mouth—and reveal that all the needles have somehow threaded themselves on the thread. It never fully made sense to me what we’re asking the spectator to believe when this happens, but it looks really cool.
This is also where some newer versions deviate from the classic. For example, Criss Angel pulled the thread out of his stomach on TV.
I begin with the classic approach and pull the thread out of my mouth with the needles already attached.
When it’s out and I can speak, I’ll have my mouth examined yet again and the needles counted—which is when we’ll find one is missing for some reason.
I’ll make a shocked face and act like I’m gagging for the last time and even have blood pour out of my mouth—another chance for Felix to faint.
Eventually, I will spit out a needle and have it fly right into my index finger, piercing it in the process.
For real.
It will hurt, but the realness of the finger injury will make everything that preceded it seem all the more genuine.
If Felix doesn’t faint at that point, he will be considered officially cured of his weak stomach.
I practice spitting the last needle, but catch it in the cushion instead of my finger. I don’t want too many puncture wounds when Ariel examines my hands.
The needle flies true, and it better: I’ve practiced needle spitting this way for enough hours to win a gold medal in it—assuming someone would make such an insane sport part of the Olympics.
Packing everything I need to repeat the effect in a short while, I join Felix and Rose for brunch.
As it sometimes happens when I have something new to perform, I’m only partially there as we eat and Rose tells us the PG version of her trip. Most of my brain cycles are busy fantasizing about the upcoming performance and the expression on Ariel’s face when she sees it.
I soon realize I’m actually nervous about the performance. I guess I really want to make Ariel happy, at least for a few seconds, after everything she’s been through.
When we finally leave, I’m not surprised to find Kevin and the fancy limo waiting for us downstairs.
At this point, I wouldn’t be that shocked to learn that Kevin sleeps here. I’m beginning to think Nero is using him to make sure I don’t get into more trouble. It’s his way of ensuring that his goose keeps laying golden eggs—even when she gives him stocks as a joke, apparently.
The trip to the rehab facility is similar to the brunch: my mind is on the upcoming needle-swallowing, with everything secondary, even the majestically futuristic streets of Gomorrah.
“Wait here. I’ll go get Ariel,” Felix tells me when we enter the Star Wars cantina-like lobby of the facility.
“Sure,” I say, the sight of elves, dwarfs, orcs, and a slew of other exotic creatures finally dragging me out of my performance musings.
“Sasha,” says Ariel’s voice next to my ear.
I turn around.
Ariel is grinning at me, and she looks good—supermodel good.
Or more to the point—the cured kind of good.
“Hey, you,” I say, unsure how one talks to a friend in rehab.
“Don’t you ‘hey you’ me,” Ariel says, her grin widening. “Come give me a hug.”
I gladly comply, and hugging her makes some deep-seated anxiety in my chest melt away.
“You smell so good,” Ariel murmurs, her lips brushing sensually against my ear as she gives it a nibble. “I’ve missed you.”
“What?” Startled, I extricate myself from the hug. “I what?”
She cocks her head.
My thoughts spin at a thousand miles per hour. Is she still under mind control—but by a horny teenage boy who can see through her eyes and speak through her mouth, Baba Yaga style? Or is the vampire-blood withdrawal messing with her libido and sexual preferences? Will she become a sex addict now, like Kit?
Wait a minute.
“Kit?” I say sternly, narrowing my eyes at “Ariel.”
Sighing, the woman in front of me transforms into the mischievous Councilor.
“Ariel wasn’t herself these last few days, so I didn’t get a chance to interact with her and learn the proper behavior patterns,” she says apologetically in her anime-character voice.
“You think that’s the problem?”
“Sasha,” Felix says breathlessly from behind me, and I turn around, alerted by some strange note in his voice.
Sucking in a breath, he rattles out, “Ariel isn’t here.”
A wave of dread hits me.
“Explain,” Kit says imperiously, stepping toward Felix.
“They couldn’t find her this morning,” he says. “They pulled up the security footage, and it shows Ariel waltzing out of this place a few hours before we arrived.”
“They just let her leave?” I ask.
“This isn’t a prison,” Kit says. “Unless we explicitly agreed to be held here, we can leave whenever we want.”
“They should’ve had her under mind control longer.” Felix looks around the place with narrowed eyes.
“There’s a protocol for that too,” Kit says. “They have to let you exercise your will when they think you can handle it.”
“But she clearly couldn’t yet,” I say sharply.
Kit looks uncomfortable—an expression that seems foreign on her face. “I’m sorry about my unfortunate impersonation earlier,” she mutters. “I didn’t know she’d be missing and—”
I wave off her apologies, trying to analyze the implications of this development.
“She’s an addict,” I say to Felix. “So it’s logical to assume she’d go seeking a fix.”
“Gaius,” Felix says, his face twisting in very un-Felix-like hatred. “She’s probably looking for that asshat.”
“Gaius?” Kit’s left eyebrow rises impossibly high on her forehead—no doubt a trick of her shapeshifting abilities.
“He got Ariel hooked,” I explain.
“Or at least imbibing his blood is how Ariel got to this place,” Felix says.
I’m about to yell at Felix for defending Gaius, if that’s what he meant, but something about Kit’s expression stops me.
“He was here earlier today,” she says, her eyebrows furrowed so closely together they almost form a cross. “I thought he was here for me, but now I don’t feel so special anymore.” Her heart-shaped lips form into a pout.
“Gaius was here?” Felix and I say in unison.
“A few hours ago,” Kit says. “He told me he recently got back from Russia, and we flirted for a bit. I then reminded him that I’m planning to check myself out today, and we agreed to meet in Brooklyn.”
“Excuse me?” Felix manages to look even more confused than I feel.
“I had a whole week of celibacy,” Kit says defensively. “Vampires make voracious lovers, so when one as old as Gaius offers a dalliance—”
“We don’t care about your sex life,” I interrupt, then take a breath. “We want to locate Ariel, and they have a history.”
“Do you think Gaius could’ve gone to see Ariel after he saw you?” Felix asks Kit.
“Easily,” she says. “He could’ve gone either before talking to me or after.”
“What would it have been like for Ariel to see him?” I ask, frowning.
“Difficult.” Felix puts a hand on my shoulder. “Like seeing a lake of vodka would’ve been for an alcoholic.”
“More like walking, talking uncut heroin,” Kit says, her face exaggeratedly serious. “Her willpower would’ve been severely tested.”
I take a calming breath. “We need to find her. She probably left with Gaius, so we can start by locating him.” I pointedly stare at Kit.
She stares back, her expression turning sneaky.
“Where exactly is your date with him?” Felix asks. “When is it?”
“I could let you tag along when I go meet him later today.” Kit twirls her bleached hair around her finger. “We can all have an orgy, if you’d like.”
“No, thanks, but can you please take us there anyway?” I ask, though a sinking feeling that isn’t psychic tells me a “please” isn’t going to cut it.
Sure enough, she says, “I’m going to need a favor in return.”
“I don’t make deals for generic favors,” I say firmly, and Felix nods in approval. “Learning from my mistakes and all that.”
“So sad.” Kit lets go of her hair. “I’m not sure how you’ll locate Gaius without me.” She transforms into an old lady and in a raspy voice adds, “And if you’re thinking of following me when I leave this place, I hope you remember that I can look like anyone.”
The idea of following her did cross my mind, but she has a point. She can get lost in a crowd better than a trained spy.
“You can still get a favor,” I say. “We just need to agree upfront what it is.”
“That’s not as fun.” The old-lady Kit pouts.
“How about a seer vision at some point?” I suggest. “I can glean ten minutes of the future for you.”
She raises one silver eyebrow, and her forehead crisscrosses with deep lines.
“Or something computer related,” Felix graciously chimes in, and she crinkles her nose in disgust.
“Fine.” Kit turns back into her younger self. “A vision would work, plus another triviality. I need a place to crash for a few days.”
“You do?” Felix looks her up and down incredulously. “You’re a Councilor. Don’t you have a mansion somewhere?”
“It’s complicated.” Kit examines the futuristic tiles of the rehab floor. “Someone—let’s call them ‘the enabler’—is there, which would not be good for the addiction I’m trying to curb.”
“What about the dalliance with Gaius—isn’t that also bad for your addiction?” is what I don’t say. Nor do I ask her how she managed to find someone with a stronger sex drive than hers—assuming that’s what makes “the enabler” an enabler. Though, he/she could just be a succubus or something like that. Having met one, I can see how a person could become a sex addict if there’s a succubus around.
And speaking of Cognizant who might turn one into a sex addict… How come I still don’t know what Nero is?
“You can stay on the couch in our living room,” Felix tells Kit. “I think you’ll fit.”
“You won’t even know I’m there,” Kit says and shrinks her height by a foot—I guess to show us what she’d do if she didn’t fit on the couch.
“Right,” I say, unable to shake the feeling that we just got outmaneuvered in this negotiation. “When are you checking out?”
“How about now?” She grows back to her normal size. “I’m craving brick-oven pizza, and there’s the best place right next to our destination.”
Without waiting for our opinions, she heads for the door.
“I guess she doesn’t need to formally check out,” I whisper to Felix as we follow.
He just shrugs.
When we get outside, Kit already has a ride waiting for us, so we all get in and drive off.
Felix asks Kit about the rehab, and she raves about the place like an infomercial. After a minute, I tune her out because something occurs to me.
I have my own way of tracking Ariel—my power.
Evening out my breathing, I slip into the needed focus—and find myself in Headspace.
Floating among the shapes, I debate summoning Darian again, but decide that Ariel takes priority.
So how do I get a vision about Ariel?
I think about her, but nothing changes.
Crap. This seemed to work before.
Unless I have to think about her deeper than just her name?
I picture her flawless beauty. I recall her tenderness toward me and Felix, and the mama-bear fierceness when someone tries to harm us. I can almost relive the child-like excitement on her face when I finish one of my magic effects. A smile touches my nonexistent lips as I think about her Batman obsession. At the core, Ariel is decisive, spontaneous, and adventurous, but there’s a darker side to her too, like the addiction—
A new set of shapes appears in front of me.
Does that mean what I just did worked?
I zoom in to make sure the vision is short, then touch the nearest shape.
Spiraling into it, I get ready to figure out what kind of trouble Ariel got herself into this time.