Riders (12 page)

Moving was helping mellow me out. Not being trapped was helping too.

The cuff was buzzing. Noticeably more voltage now.

Kinda hard to ignore. Kinda wished I knew what it meant.

Daryn stopped in front of double glass doors with frosted letters. “He’s in here.”

“What—here?” I had to read the sign again. “Herald
Casting
?” I didn’t know what I’d expected from Famine. A guy who worked in a soup kitchen maybe, or a homeless man. But this? “He’s an
actor
?”

“Gideon.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine.” I wasn’t going to spin on this right now. As I quickly considered what I knew about entering potentially hostile situations, Daryn pulled the door open and strolled right in.

Inside it was a waiting area like at a dentist’s office only bigger and sexier, with photos of perfect people on the walls, plastic chairs around the perimeter. Lots of white and chrome.

And Samraels. Samraels sitting in every chair. My entire body went tight. Then I relaxed. The room was filled with guys who were around Samrael’s age and build. They had his same dark hair and general look. But he wasn’t here.

At twelve o’clock, the receptionist peered around her computer screen. “Hi there. Come on over and sign in.” She dropped the smile when she saw Daryn. “Sorry, hon. This is a closed audition.”

“But I’m a relative.” Daryn took a step my way. Half the guys in the room had stopped reading their stapled pages in favor of looking at her. “I’m his sister.”

“And?” the receptionist said. She had high penciled-in eyebrows already, but now they went even higher. “Were you planning to deliver his lines for him?”

“Well, no. It’s only that”—Daryn tipped her head my way—“he can’t read.”

Amazingly, I was able to keep from thoroughly losing it.

Okay, Blake. Options. Any other options? Negative.

“Actually I
can
read, it’s just—” What the hell was it just? I pointed at my face. “I had a minor equipment issue. Lost a contact on the way here.” Then I stood there and tried to look like a guy who could only see out of one eye.

The receptionist shook her head. “Ohhh, bummer. One of those days, isn’t it? I’m having one myself.” She looked back to Daryn. “But it doesn’t change anything. You still can’t stay.”

Daryn stepped closer, lowering her voice so only I could hear. “You’ll have to find him on your own. I’ll meet you at the Jeep in an hour.”

“No, Daryn. I can’t let you leave.”

“You have to. We need him. You’ll be fine.”

“That is not—”
Breathe. Try again.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“I know. I’ll be fine, too.”

Then she was pushing through the glass doors and I was standing there. Watching her go.

Nope. This wasn’t going to work for me.

I took two steps after her, and then stopped.

The cuff.

Magic metal was hitting me with a significant and striking flow of energy. Not just a buzz anymore. There was more to it. A kind of … knowing or presence … a signal that felt
here
.

I looked to my right and there he was, looking right back at me.

Famine.

C
HAPTER
17

There was one empty chair in the room and it was next to him, so. I took it.

“How’s it going?” I said. Having just watched Daryn leave, I wasn’t exactly calm but I tried to focus on the task of getting him on the team.

“Good.” He sat over his knees and rolled up the papers in his hands into a scroll.

My first impression was that he fit the bill. Even sitting I could tell he was tall. Over six feet. Lanky. He looked a touch underfed, but it gave him that model look more than anything else. Like he belonged on one of the photos on the wall. His brown hair reminded me of Wyatt’s—long and shaggy—except Famine’s was more natural, like it just was that way. He was my age or a little older, I guessed.

After a second of wringing the papers, he narrowed his eyes at me like he was trying to work something out. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied. “I’m Gideon Blake.”

“Sebastian. Sebastian Luna.”

We didn’t shake hands, which was awkward. We’d obviously avoided it. But considering all the insane stuff that’d been happening, it wouldn’t have surprised me to see lightning slice down from the ceiling if we had.

I glanced at his wrist. Sebastian’s cuff was different from mine. His looked like glass, smoky black, and was webbed in a way that reminded me randomly of tendons and Halloween. It was freaky looking. I liked mine better.

He lowered his head, his longish hair falling in front of his eyes. Probably secretly trying to spot my cuff. My sleeve was covering it but I realized it didn’t matter. Magic metal was still sending a steady hum into me. Judging by the way Sebastian kept strangling the script in his hands, I was pretty positive his cuff was providing him with the same feedback.

I wondered what he knew. Did he know more about what was going on than I did? Wouldn’t have been tough, considering. But then he hadn’t met Daryn yet.

Daryn, who was Samrael’s target and currently alone.

I had to keep things moving. “Did they already start?”

“A little while ago,” Sebastian replied. “I heard what your sister said. I’ll run lines with you, if you want.”

“My sister? Oh, right. That wasn’t my sister. She just said that ’cause she was hoping to provide moral support. I’m new to this. First audition.”

“First one, really?” He cracked a smile. “You don’t seem that nervous.”

“Actually, I’m way out of my element.”

“You’ll do fine. First one’s the hardest.” He glanced at the receptionist. “I’ve been to a ton of these. I shouldn’t be nervous, but this one’s different. A big-budget cable series like this is a career maker. It can completely change your life.”

“Definitely,” I said. “Life. Changing.”

Sebastian stretched out his legs. He seemed to be relaxing. I got the feeling he’d talked himself out of worrying about me. Either that, or he really was a good actor.

I wasn’t relaxing. I needed to drop the horseman thing on him and get out of there, but I couldn’t find my way in.

“Don’t take this the wrong way or anything,” he said, “but you’re not exactly what they’re looking for, you know? Young Latino cop?”

I took another look around. He had a point. “Yeah, I guess I’m not a perfect fit.” I brushed a hand over my blond buzz cut like I wished it was different. “But I’m going for it anyway.”

“That’s the right attitude, man. Half the time, I don’t think
they
even know what they want. Sometimes I don’t know how anyone makes it in this business.”

“Exactly. It all just seems so arbitrary and political and”—
come on, Blake, finish strong, puritanical, pathological, perforated, Panamanian
—“weird.”

“You said it. This business
is
weird.”

Annnd that was enough small talk for me. “Hey, so.” I dropped my voice, trying to manufacture some privacy. “We should probably talk. I’m War.” I couldn’t think of a good follow-up comment after that—where’d you go from there?—so I pulled up my sleeve and showed him my cuff.

“You’re…” Sebastian had stopped blinking. “You’re
what
?”

“War. I know. It blew my mind too.” He was starting to go a little pale so I kept talking, using my calmest voice. “Look, it’d be better if we could talk confidentially. I don’t know how much you’ve figured out, but I think I can give you some answers. We need to bounce, though. Kinda now ’cause there’s a real possibility—”

“Next group,” the receptionist announced. “Head inside, please.”

Sebastian shot to his feet. The guys around us were a little slower to stand, but not by much. “You should get out of here,” he said, sounding almost sorry. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

He walked into the audition.

I got up and went right after him.

Five of us filed into a conference room, one wall of which was a floor-to-ceiling window that showed a hazy, sort of pretty view of the Hollywood Hills.

Two long tables were set up in front of it. Four women and three men sat behind an assortment of coffee cups, water bottles, and papers. They were talking and passing around head shots. Only one of them was paying attention to us—the man on the far right. He was backlit by the gloomy glow of the day, so his face was in shadow. All I could really see of him was a shiny bald head and round-framed glasses. The kind John Lennon wore.

“Form a line, please,” he said, in a pissy-bored voice. “When we call you forward, deliver the first lines on page three, up to ‘drowning in a sea of gray.’”

I took my place, then realized I was standing at parade rest and had to unsoldier my stance. Since I was on the end, I’d be either the first or the last guy to go.

“This is going to be interesting,” I muttered.

Sebastian’s head swiveled over and I saw genuine horror on his face. “
Get out of here
. I told you. I don’t want to get involved.”

“You’re involved. All I need’s five minutes.”

“Man,
please
. This is really important—”

He broke off as the guy on the opposite end of the line stepped forward.

Showtime.

Compared to the rest of us, the actor was on the short side. Stocky, with a starter paunch. He had spiked black hair and ink sleeves on both arms.

“I’m Luis Alvarez.” He took a huge breath, his chest expanding, expanding, expanding, then he blew it out, deflating himself.

Then detonation.

“He was like a brother to me!” He pounded his fist against his chest. “Like
my own blood
! But I’m a
cop
. I wear
a badge
. I swore an
oath
. What was I supposed to
do
? I had to shoot him!” He threw his hands out, then made a gun with his fingers and pretend-shot the casting people.
Pop, pop, pop.
Blew fake smoke off his finger. Holstered his hand. “The law is bigger than me. It’s words written in black ink on white paper, but sometimes this world is gray. That’s where I am. I lost my brother and I’m
drowning
! I’m drowning in a sea of
gray
.” Blink. “Thank you.”

He stepped back in line, linked his hands behind his back and dropped his head like
that, my friends, is how you crush it
.

A flutter in my gut came up, shooting into my throat. I clenched my jaw but the battle was already over. I went from zero to howling. Big, big laughing. The insanity of everything was too much. And the embarrassment. It hurt me. I was drowning in a sea of cheese.

“
Please,
” Sebastian said.
“Shut up.”

I was trying.

“Do you have a problem with something?” Lennon Glasses asked me.

“No, sir. I apologize for that.” I was still on shaky ground, but remembering my manners, my mission. “Just a bad case of nerves.” This needed to end. I stepped forward. “Can I go next?”

“He can’t,” Sebastian said. “He’d be out of turn.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would.”

“Then we’ll go in random order.”

“If it’s random, then I’ll go next since I’m not on the end.”

“Dude, do you even know what random means?”

“Yes. In this case it means I get to go first.” He took two steps forward and looked at the casting table. “I’m ready.”

It’d gotten pretty quiet in the room. Then suddenly it wasn’t.

Lennon Glasses shuffled some papers and the other casting people huddled around him. They had a hushed but animated discussion. We’d woken them up.

Lennon Glasses cleared his throat and looked up. “We’ll take Mr. Luna first since we don’t seem to have your headshot, Mr.…?”

“Blake. Gideon Blake.”

Total silence again. I couldn’t have felt less Latino. Maybe if I’d started belting out “Danny Boy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blake. Mr. Luna, go ahead.”

Sebastian shot me a little victory smile as I made myself fall back into line. Then I watched him deliver the same exact lines, except totally differently.

He took his time to start. Almost a full minute, so everyone in the room was anticipating it, focused on him, waiting for him to speak. When he did, his voice was heavy and breaking—a sound I recognized. Grief had a particular weight in a person’s voice that was too heavy for words. He knew that weight. Or if he didn’t, he could communicate it.

He used the silence between the lines too, which I’d never realized was part of acting until that moment. But he filled the pauses somehow. Even his breathing said something about pain. The way he bowed his head, the look on his face. The crushing, shitty, heart-killing truth of losing someone you love was in every part of him. And when he lifted his hands and stared at his open palms with the final line, the one about drowning in the sea of gray? Chills. I got actual chills from the amount of feeling the guy put into those crap lines. Sebastian made them real. He filled the room with agony and I wasn’t the only one who felt it. When he was done, the entire room was in full clench.

Awesome. Awesome stuff. But it’d been at least fifteen minutes since Daryn had walked out of there, and that was way past my limit.

I dropped my hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Well, that was amazing,” I said, tugging him toward the door. “I know I don’t need to audition anymore. I give my votes to him. Unfortunately we have to run. You know how it is during audition season.”

Audition season? Was that even a thing?

“Let go of me,” Sebastian said, trying to break free. “I don’t even know you.”

“Can you believe this guy? Still in character.” I had him at the door by then. Almost out of there. “Thanks a lot, everybody. Break a leg.”

I pushed the door open and shoved him into the hallway.

“Okay, okay! Take it easy!” He put his hands up. “Just
let go
of me, and we’ll talk.”

I let him go.

He lurched out of my reach, and bolted.

C
HAPTER
18

I should’ve caught him right away. He’d only gotten a small jump on me, but as I barreled through the door into the waiting room, I ran smack into the receptionist coming the other way. I managed to catch her and keep us both on our feet; then I took a second to make sure she was okay because I’d really given her a shot. That put Sebastian a few steps ahead of me as I chased him out of the casting office into the main hallway.