The Anathema (11 page)

“That is not helpful,” Alex complained. “I am trying to make the angry guy go away.”

“Sorry about that,” Katya said, still watching Grigori, her body tense and her hand hovering near the shining instruments. “Bad habit of mine.”

“What is wrong with you, Warner?” Grigori demanded, clearly dumbfounded. “I came to warn you about a threat to your life, based on the positive reports on your character I received from Emily Muir, and instead I find you cracking jokes with the threat? This is simply too much.”

“Wait, Emily gave positive reports about my character? What did she say?”

Katya moved on the balls of her feet, like a cat, walking circles around Grigori.

“I have never liked you, and your accent makes you sound like my grandmother,” Katya said deliberately, just out of his reach. “I spent a lot of time in Mr. Cole’s class thinking about what I would do to you, if you didn’t have a cartel to stand behind you. Well, I have a job now. You get close to him,” Katya said, pointing at Alex, “and then I’ll do what I have to do. It will be my obligation.”

“Ahem.” Rebecca cleared her throat, fingering the scalpels embedded in the wall with obvious trepidation. Behind her, a doctor and handful of nurses peered out in suspicion and hostility. “I’m just going to say it. Everyone in this room is in a whole lot of trouble.”

“Am I,” Eerie said slowly, searching for words, “in trouble?”

“That would be the gist of it, yes,” Gaul said patiently. “Quite a bit.”

He gave her a minute to let the news sink in. Eerie said nothing, a vacant smile on her face, her head cocked to the side and her eyes focused on nothing that he could see. The silence stretched out longer than he thought that he could stand.

“I don’t want to be,” Eerie concluded.

“Ah. Yes,” Gaul agreed slowly. “Yes, I would imagine so.”

Again, the silence stretched out until Gaul felt practically compelled to cough.

“Uh, I’m – I’m sorry?” Eerie said hopefully, her hands clasped between her knees. “For whatever?”

“You can’t rectify this situation simply by apologizing, Eerie. In this particular case, it might be more appropriate to…” Gaul trailed off when he realized that Eerie had her hand held up politely above her head, waiting to be called on as if she were in a classroom. “Yes, Eerie?”

“I am very sorry,” Eerie said firmly. “A lot sorrier than before.”

“Yes,” Gaul said, coughing. “I do understand. However, I think that…”

“Eerie,” Rebecca cut in, leaning over Gaul’s shoulder, from where she perched on top of one of his filing cabinets. “Why San Francisco?”

Gaul had to combat the urge to bury his head in his hands, to shout at either of the infuriating women who had occupied his office and turned this conversation into a farce, but he did not. Not the least because he was not entirely sure what he wanted to do about Eerie in the first place. If Rebecca had any kind of solution, it was worth tolerating her interruptions.

“You don’t like San Francisco?”

Eerie rubbed her temples and looked puzzled.

“No, why did
you
want to go to San Francisco?”

“Oh. I wanted to shop, and then to go dancing.”

“Right, but couldn’t you do that anywhere?” Rebecca persisted. “Why there specifically?”

“In San Francisco,” Eerie confided, “no one cares how I look, no matter where I go.”

“I see,” Rebecca said patiently. Gaul didn’t see at all, but he passed on speaking. He could feel the Ether ripple as Rebecca reached for Eerie, empathically, the probe both subtle and profound. His interest perked up – his understanding had always been that empathy worked poorly on changelings, due to their alien consciousness and neural chemistry. “Why did you want to bring Alex, Eerie?”

To his surprise, Eerie looked away suddenly.

“I, uh, I wanted to go dancing,” Eerie said evasively, scuffing her sneakers on the wooden floor of Gaul’s office. “You know. With him. But it didn’t work out.”

“You mean because the Weir…”

Eerie shook her head, and then was forced to push her unruly blue hair back behind her ears.

“No, because he wouldn’t dance,” Eerie said, pouting. “It’s hard. Alex is scared of lots and lots of things. He got two beds.”

“He what?” Gaul asked, trying very hard to follow along.

“At the hotel,” Eerie said, shrugging. “He didn’t even ask me first.”

“Really? Wow,” Rebecca said earnestly, looking mortified. “That’s pretty lame.”

“Rebecca!” Gaul snapped.

“Right, sorry,” Rebecca said, shaking her head and returning to the task. “Eerie, why did you ask Anastasia for help?”

“Oh. Easy one,” Eerie said, seeming pleased. “She said to.”

“She told you to ask her for help?”

“Yes.”

If Rebecca was trying to draw her out, it didn’t work. Eerie just waited patiently, tapping one foot alternately against the ground and her chair leg. Gaul poured himself a glass from the carafe of water his secretary had left on the desk to have something to do while Rebecca frowned furiously, trying to work something out.

“Why? Why would she do something like that?” Rebecca wondered.

“Ask her,” Eerie suggested. “When I want to know something, that’s what I do.”

Rebecca looked at Eerie hard, but she didn’t flinch. Gaul could feel the power in the room, every atom in the air energized, attracting and repelling in a frenzy of ozone and negatively charged ions. He couldn’t tell if it affected Eerie at all. Her eyes remained blank, wet and dilated, and her body language placid to the point of being slack.

“Eerie, I have to ask. Did you know that Alex was coming here? Before he actually showed up?”

“I heard stories,” she said, nodding in confirmation.

“No… before that. Before anyone had heard of Alex here at the Academy. You knew about him, didn’t you?” Rebecca said, leaning forward, so caught up that she hadn’t even touched the cigarette that burned in the ashtray that Gaul kept specifically for her. There was no one else, after all, that he would have tolerated smoking in his office.

Eerie looked away again. Gaul and Rebecca exchanged glances. This, he thought, sipping his water, was something.

“I don’t have to talk about it,” Eerie said, the music disappearing from her voice abruptly, which was instead flat and miserable.

“How did you know that, Eerie? Precognition?” Rebecca pressed on. “Was that how you knew about Alex?”

“I don’t have to talk about it and I don’t want to talk about it,” Eerie said, suddenly animated. Gaul blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, but it looked the same no matter what he did – around the changeling, and the air seemed filled with translucent golden motes, moving in lazy, counter-clockwise circles, trailing golden dust behind them that slowly dissipated into thin air. Despite Rebecca’s cigarette, he could smell a distinct odor of sandalwood. “And if you don’t stop leaning on me, Rebecca, then I am going to have to leave, and I am going to cry, and then I am going to complain, because you cannot do this to me, because I am not the same as you, and because I have always done my best, since I was little, and because you don’t have a right to try and peak inside my head, and it is wrong that you are trying to make me okay with telling you things that I am not okay with telling you, and it is wrong because there are two of you and I am all alone, and I am trying to make friends because you told me that I had to make friends, and now that I am trying you are angry with me, and this is not fair and – ”

Gaul stood up and clapped his hands together. Both women snapped their attention to him, and after a moment, the charged atmosphere receded, both of them returning to their respective corners.

“Enough. Rebecca, Eerie is right. She has made the request, and she does have a right to her privacy. There will be no further attempts to influence you, Eerie.”

“But it isn’t right that she – oh. Uh,” Eerie hesitated, flustered. “Well, good then. Can I go now?”

“No, Eerie,” Gaul said gently. “You are still very much in trouble.”

“Oh.” She hesitated, tugging at the hem of her skirt the same way she had when she was a child. “I’d rather not be, if that’s okay.”

Gaul sighed deeply; wishing that a deity he didn’t believe in would note his suffering and take appropriate action to alleviate it. Possibly via lightning. However, nothing happened, so he was left to muddle along in his own way.

“Eerie, would you mind waiting outside with Mrs. Barrett until I call you? Rebecca and I have some things we need to talk about…”

“Yes, please,” Eerie said eagerly, jumping from her chair and heading for the door.

He waited until she was out of the room before he turned to Rebecca, which gave him time to get his temper under control. Gaul wasn’t opposed to his subordinates showing initiative - as long as they were successful.

“I am your boss,” he reminded her sternly. “You are supposed to ask me before you do crazy things.”

“Sorry,” Rebecca said, realizing her cigarette had burnt to ash in the tray and lighting a fresh one. “I blew it. I thought I could influence her, maybe figure out whether she was telling the truth. I had no idea she would be able to sense it, I thought I had that whole part of her brain shut down. Fuck, Gaul, what does that kid use for a mind? I can’t begin to describe what it is like in there. Poor thing.”

“Hold off on Eerie for a moment,” Gaul said, wishing that he didn’t have to discuss this, but circumstances were what they would be. He had seen the situation coming this morning, in the shower, but that didn’t make the reality of it any more pleasant. He preferred not to get involved in the personal lives of his subordinates, but sometimes, the barrier between personal and professional inevitably became altogether too thin for his tastes. “What exactly is going on with you?”

If Rebecca’s surprise wasn’t genuine, then he was no judge of her emotions at all. She looked bowled over by the change in direction the conversation had taken.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what you just attempted with our resident Changeling, or the stunt you pulled with Alex in front of Gerald Windsor a few months ago – yes, of course, he told me about it. In addition, three days ago, you attempted to erase the part of my memory that tracks your sick days. You have accrued a hefty deficit, I might add.”

Rebecca swore profusely and then kicked one of his filing cabinets, paining him. She didn’t seem to notice or care about his disapproval, but eventually her histrionics became hysterics, and she laughed herself back down.

“I’m sorry, guilty as charged,” Rebecca admitted, wiping her eyes. “I got a swelled head. Started messing around in Alistair’s backyard. No need to ask, boss, I swear off unauthorized telepathy in the future.”

“Did you really think I would let it drop that easily? I see patterns, Rebecca, the overall fabric of events; you know that. Do I need to spell things out for you? How many times have you had individual sessions with Alex?”

“Once a week for the last couple months,” Rebecca said, fidgeting and tapping her cigarette against the desk more than was necessary. “Once a week, when he first came here. The kid is all kinds of fucked up, Gaul. Keeping him functioning is half of my job around here.”

“Then the scope of your responsibilities has diminished greatly. How often do you use his catalytic abilities? How often is the feedback effect part of the therapy?”

“Every time,” Rebecca admitted hollowly, then added in an even quieter voice. “Pretty much.”