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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Masks Amid Masks"  "I am nobody. I am nothing," Kendra Saunders. Her expression is empty but her gaze is alert, so that she seems to be drinking in the instructions, or feeding on them. "I made you from fire and ash," Michelle says. "What are you?" "I am nothing," Kendra firmly replies, "made from fire and ash." "Your purpose is to serve me. You have no other desire. You are my slave. What are you, and why are you here?" "I am your slave. I was made to serve you." Michelle's face is pale and haggard. Her voice trembles. From fear? From loathing? From desire? From a mix of all three? It's hard to tell. But she looks like a girl who is gobbling down a meal because she is starving, yet is nauseated by every bite. "Who are you?" she concludes in a harsh, croaking voice. "I am A-Three," says the new doppelganger, who looks exactly like the former Kendra Saunders. Michelle glances at the paper she's been reading from, and some of the sickness drains from her expression as she looks back up at A-Three. "I have given you Kendra Saunders' face and form and life, her memories and—" But though you have been watching a listening attentively to Michelle, missing no shade of detail or inflection, none of it really sticks. You feel the vacancy of your own mind as you stand, unmoving, beside Number Three. "—she had is now yours. Everything she was, you are. So, who are you?" "I am A-Three." "But what is your name?" The doppelganger smiles. "My name is Kendra Saunders." Her gaze turns smug. Michelle sighs, and most of the tension seems to evaporate off her. But there is still a quaver in her voice as she turns to you and Number Three. "This is Number One and Number Three," she tells the new Kendra. "They are doppelgangers like you, and they serve me like you serve me. You will help them, and they will help you." A-Three's nose seems to quiver a little as she regards you with calm speculation. "When we are all together, don't act like Kendra, act like yourself, like, um, A-Three. But when anyone else is around, you and Number One and Number Three will act like the people you are pretending to be." "I understand, boss." "Good. Do you have any questions?" Michelle looks like she's going to faint on her feet. A-Three glances between you and Number Three. "Is there a Number Two?" Michelle, panic in her eyes, looks at you. "Kim Walsh," you answer for her, "is Number Two. Christine Miles is A-Two." "Is there an A-One?" "The boss hasn't told me. I think she's keeping it a secret." Michelle nods when A-Three looks at her. "I'll tell you when it's time," she says, and sways on her feet.. "Okay, what are you going to do now?" "Whatever you order me to, boss," A-Three says. "I mean—" "Chelsea and Kendra, and Steve," you jump in, "were going to Sophie van den Berg's party tonight. If you want us to resume their lives ..." You trail off. "Yes, do that," Michelle says. For the first time, she seems to notice that Kendra is dressed like Storm from the X-Men movies. "When you leave here, just do whatever Kendra would have done—" "Except," you interrupt with a pointed smirk, "she shouldn't say anything about now being a doppelganger, or coming up here tonight. Right, boss?" "Right." Michelle is starting to look ill again. "You can all go now. Er, if you have any questions, um, A-Three—" She pauses. "You can ask Number One. She's the first, um, doppelganger I made. She knows how to do things." "Sure thing, boss," A-Three says. She casts a veiled but amused glance at you and Number Three. "I had something I wanted to talk to you about, boss," you tell Michelle. "But I think A-Three and Number Three can go ahead to the party," you add. Relief floods Michelle's face. "Okay. A-Three, Number Three, go on and go to the ... party." With a quick flick of the hand she shoos at them. A-Three strides off for the side door; Number Three looks at you, and doesn't follow until you give him a small nod. When they are gone, Michelle collapses onto a nearby bleacher. "Oh, God," she groans. "You did great," you tell her. "I'm so stressed out!" She puts her face between her knees. "What am I doing?" "You're helping make the school a better place." You gently stroke her hair. "Kendra is a rat and a snake, but she's smart. She hurt so many people. But now she'll help instead. A-Three will use her brain for good." "It still feels like—" "Shh. It's okay. It's only for a year. Not even year, just six or seven months." Michelle's expression is clouded with doubt. "Well," she mumbles, "I guess it could work." "Trust me. We'll talk about how we can use A-Two and A-Three to help you and your friends. We can do that tomorrow. Are you going to a party tonight?" "What? Oh." She winces. "I was going to, at Alexis's. But I don't feel like—" "I think you should go. Hang out with your friends. Remember how much you love them, and how you're doing all this for them." Michelle gives you a shaky assurance that that's what she'll do, but even if she does go out—which you doubt—you're pretty sure she won't stay long. You tell her to call you tomorrow. "We'll meet, up here or someplace else," you say, and accompany her out. Patterson's car is still parked by the gym, but Number Three doesn't climb out until Michelle has driven away. "Tonight was kind of a surprise, boss," he says. "What was all that in there?" "Making things easy for Michelle. She's going to be another 'boss', like me. Except she's a junior partner. We need to make it easy for her and her team to ... coordinate ... with us. So around A-Two and A-Three, we are going to pretend that Michelle is our boss. Pretend," you repeat with emphasis. "Is Michelle a doppelganger too?" "Not yet, not technically." "Do you want me and A-Three to spend tomorrow night up in the loft? Or not?" The question jars you, and it takes you a moment find your footing. "Whatever," you reply, wondering why Number Three would even suggest such a thing. "Act like your originals when you're around other people. What you do when it's just you two ... That's up to you." "Understood. Am I going to see you out at Sophie's?" "Sure. I need to be fashionably late, of course. And I need to find Gordon." "It's going to be interesting, him and A-Three, considering what he was planning to do with Kendra after he dumped you." "That's why Kendra is one of us now." You smile. "See you at Sophie's, Steve." "See you at Sophie's, Chels," he replies, and his tone turns characteristically icy as he says it. * * * * * Maybe the cheerleader squad shakeup has changed Gordon's life plans—insofar as the fake Gordon can have "life plans"—but he doesn't buck when you call to remind him that you're supposed to go out together to Sophie's place. He isn't happy about it either, but he's always a mule when it comes to going out and doing things. He picks you up at your house at a little before nine. Like Steve, he didn't come to school in any kind of costume, and he's not wearing one now. (The letterman jacket doesn't count.) The van den Bergs are old city money and old city power, and though they seem to have fallen on hardish times lately, they still live in the ancestral house on Borman Road, just across the street from the college. It's a big, rambling, nineteenth-century monster with three stories, half a dozen gables, a couple of chimneys and cupolas, and a tower, all wrapped with a covered porch and spackled with gingerbread. Except for the yard and grounds being nicely tended behind a tall, wrought-iron fence, it would be a perfect haunted house. Which is maybe why the family has gone out of its way for as long as you've known Sophie to host a kick-ass Halloween party every year. The street is crammed up and down both sides with cars, and the party has spilled out into the yard with knots of kids hanging out drinking and eating and laughing and flirting. Inside, the house is dark and moody, with ceiling decorations lit with black light, and low, grinding, death metal music rumbling along under the buzz and chatter of conversation. You keep your arm tight around Gordon so as not to lose him as you push your way through the crowds, touching and screaming with delight each time you bump into someone that you know. It isn't long before you are drunk on an electric buzz of talk, snacks, wine coolers, and company. "—we're gonna kick so much ass since adding Jack to the squad," you're chattering at Catherine Muskov, who foreswore a party of her own to come to this one. "He's already showing us these new steps, they're—" You start to demonstrate, and almost fling your drink all over Catherine's boyfriend, who's squeezed up close to her. "Anyway, trust me, I—" You're interrupted by a touch at the elbow, and turn. It's Kendra, grinning meaningfully at you. "Be right back," you tell Catherine, whose smile is maybe one of relief. Kendra pulls you up the stairs and down a hallway and into a little nook lined with shelves where you can talk without being overheard. "Great party, huh?" she says. You nod impatiently. She lowers her voice. "I just saw Chris Love macking on Danielle Davis," she says. When you stare at her, she adds, a little uncertainly, "The boss wants us to act normal here, right?" "Oh. Right." "Okay." She looks relieved. "Well, so, you know that Chris'll fuck anything, right? "Well, he's not one of the wrestlers, but—" "Oh God, no." Kendra makes a face. "But I was thinking, if we set it up right, Chris and the boss could—" She grins. "Or at least we could say—" Next: "Of Fakes and Feelings" |
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