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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Dirty Omens"  "Jailbait," Eva says with a tsk as she surveys herself critically in the mirror. She turns and stands on her tiptoes and studies her profile. "But fuckable jailbait, I guess. Yeah, I know some frat boys who'd like a snatch at this." "You can make her up to look older," you point out to Dylan, for it is Caleb's cousin who is inside the mask. He is taking his transformation into a high school cheerleader with remarkable aplomb. "Does she come with a wardrobe?" You shake your head. "In fact, we'll probably have to hit the thrift store to get something for you to wear." "Oh, I wasn't going to wear her home," says Eva. "Unlike you perverts I don't get off on having boobies to play with. But this'll work." She then turns to give you and Caleb a hard stare. "Where did you say you found this thing?" "In a dumpster?" Caleb's answer would sound more convincing if he hadn't stuck a question mark at the end of it. "Uh huh," Eva says dryly. "Don't bullshit me, man. I want in on whatever you guys are up to." "We're not up to anything!" you protest. "Then you don't have a lot of imagination, do you?" Eva turns back to the mirror. "Look, just rent the mask from us. Two hundred bucks and you can have it for tomorrow night and Saturday night," you say. "And we'll tell you if we find something else new and exciting," Caleb adds. You suppress the urge to kick him. "Two hundred is a lot for only two nights." "Think of what you're renting." "And I'd have to buy that wardrobe. Makeup. Shoes." "None of which mean anything if you haven't got the mask." "Mmm." She holds up four fingers. "Four weekends. Fifty bucks per weekend." "We need the two hundred now." "I'll give it to you in advance if—" She holds your eye. "If you tell me the truth about all this stuff." Her expression is very hard. * * * * * So you give up and tell Dylan all about the book and the masks that you made. He takes it all in with a minimum of questions—it's almost like this kind of thing is old news to him—and ends by asking you what the next spell, the one you need all that money for, does. "We don't know." You explain how the book doesn't describe a spell's effects until you've made and used the object. "Very convenient," she sneers, but shrugs. With your help, she rips the mask away, turning its wearer back into a skinny blonde guy who's only a few years older than Eva and almost as bitchy. "I'll be back in twenty minutes with your cash," he says as puts his clothes back on. "Then we'll talk about our new partnership." On that staggeringly presumptive note, he leaves you. Once he's gone, you and Caleb tear into each other. Your friend is defensive. "How did I know he'd figure everything out?" Caleb insists. "Because he's your cousin! And you heard him. He wants to be our partner!" "Yeah, but he's got money. And it's not like he can mess up any of our plans, not when we don't got any." "Why do I get the feeling he's going to be making plans?" Caleb shrugs. "It might be nice to have some idea of what to do with this stuff." "And what if he tells someone else?" "He wouldn't," Caleb says. "Unless that becomes part of his plan." "What do you mean?" Caleb glares at you. "Oh, nothing," you say. "Maybe he just rubs me the wrong way." * * * * * Whatever else, Caleb's cousin Dylan is true to his word and returns with ten twenty-dollar bills. You hand over the mask, but caution him about keeping away from any of Eva's known haunts. He sighs impatiently and tells you to unbunch your boxers. Money in hand, you and Caleb hit the supply stores the next day after school; it's a Friday, and you'll have all weekend to work on the new project. You're a little less than thrilled about part two of your plan, which involves sneaking into a graveyard in the middle of the night. It's hard, unpleasant, and slightly spooky work shoveling out four hundred pounds of earth into lots of bags and stowing them in your truck, but at least you're done before midnight. You drop off Caleb before swinging by the school, where you stack the sacks in a corner next to an outside wall. As you do so, your eye keeps wandering back to the basement door. You don't like Dylan. You don't trust him. He's going to do something, you're sure, something either very stupid or very unpleasant. When you look in his eyes you can see the gears whirring. He says that you and Caleb have no "imagination." The trouble is that you do; you just keep trying to ignore the possibilities even while digging deeper into the book. But now there's one possibility you just can't ignore. You've got some spare material in the basement; you could easily make up a new blank mask-and-strip. Such a thing might be useful as ... insurance ... in case something went wrong. Next: "The Buzzin' Cousin" |
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