27 – A New Life on Lease

“Wait… we can’t spend the ten million? What the fuck?”

Erika stared daggers at the duffel bag now sitting on the Walker rental home dining table. The whole ride back, Erika had been more excited about that than the whole deal with the devil, thinking it was their ticket to buying a real house again, not having to rob ATMs, and maybe slipping a few thousand to Rick until he could get the arcade up and making money—assuming it ever made money.

“The money belongs to Harriet Lavender,” The Fixer explained while preparing a modest Christmas Eve dinner. Or, rather, Leah prepared the meal—Erika noted the small mannerisms that indicated Leah’s actions—while The Fixer used her mouth to speak.

Real weirdos, Erika couldn’t help but think as she turned her glare on them.

“If we take the bag down to the bank and try to deposit it, we’re going to get the IRS, the FBI, and just about every other acronym organization breathing down our necks, investigating us for money laundering, suspicious activity, theft, and who knows what else. They’ll seize the funds while its provenance is investigated.”

Erika clicked her tongue in annoyance. “A few thousand won’t go missed, right?”

“It is best not to risk it,” The Fixer said as Leah pulled a small ham from the oven, drizzled in maple and brown sugar. “Eventually, perhaps, but at this moment, it belongs to Lavender. Were she to take it to the bank, it might raise a few eyebrows, but reality acknowledges that the funds belong to her. No alarms will be raised, all checks will pass, and no significant issues will arise from using it. Although I have not tested this exact scenario, likely, she won’t even be required to pay taxes on it.”

“But enough of that,” Leah cut in, her tone changing slightly as the corners of her lips twitched. “We’ve got hams and yams. Clear that bag off and dish up your food.”

Both before and after visiting the prison, Leah had not spoken regarding The Fixer’s newest guise. Now, with how abruptly she was changing the subject, Erika had to wonder what she thought of having a new… roommate—The Fixer promised that they would have no interactions between them, but… it was still weird to Erika, and had to be even weirder for Leah.

The idea of taking someone’s luscious hair, someone else’s memories of a childhood pet, and a history of broken bones from a rambunctious youth was strange enough, but cobbling all that together into an actual, physical disguise like what Mister Dice was did appeal to Erika. A guise like that sounded even safer than chopping up ID cards to break her link to her past. She could just turn off the disguise at will and return to normal, hiding away from anything hunting her without having to hide at all.

But taking all of someone, including the someone, did not appeal in the slightest. Maybe it was different for a real Outsider, but Erika felt like one person in her head was more than enough already.

Dinner went… as usual—it was almost too normal, considering everything that happened as of late. Leah kept asking about normal things, like school, friends, and whatever came to mind that didn’t involve anything supernatural. Considering that Leah hadn’t been too shy about discussing The Fixer before, it felt… awkward, like she perhaps had some realizations about just what it meant to be attached with The Fixer, and that those realizations weren’t exactly positive.

Erika didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, if anything could. She suspected that it was something Leah and The Fixer would have to work out between themselves. Hopefully, they would manage, or things would get really awkward.

The conversation, however, made Erika realize that she didn’t have much to discuss in this normal conversation. While she went to school, she didn’t do anything there that didn’t involve talking with Daniel or browsing her phone for things that might help with her current issues. She hadn’t been to a concert in months, she hadn’t gone to clubs, movies, or out to eat with her friends, and all of her evenings were typically spent at Varn’s with The Hunters.

Erika couldn’t decide if that was bad or not, but it did make the normal conversation much harder than it really needed to be. If Leah just wanted to prove to herself that she could still be a normal mother despite all the strangeness, it wasn’t helping.

Carter, at least, had a more normal life. He didn’t have many friends at school, Erika knew, but he did go; the teachers liked him. Daniel’s younger sister made friends with him, and, despite being related to The Hunters, it seemed like their friendship didn’t involve much supernatural business, just online games.

Dinner wound down with Erika having hardly spoken and Carter having filled most of the silence.

That just felt wrong.

Leah let out a long sigh, looking between her children. “I wish I could stay more, but…”

“Where have you got to be tonight?” Erika sat forward, frowning. “Not the hotel? You had tonight off.”

After a moment of pause, The Fixer’s posture took over from Leah’s light slouch. “The new guise requires maintenance. I’ll likely be out for the remainder of the night.”

“What, exactly, does maintenance mean?” Erika asked. “Because the first thing that popped into my mind is probably… is hopefully not what you mean.”

“I’m not taking a wrench to her,” The Fixer chuckled.

“That’s not quite… never mind. Explain.”

“While not out, guises are in a sort of stasis. You saw this with Leah following our rescue. I switched to Mister Dice to halt the strain on her body.”

Erika nodded to show that she was following along.

“Long periods of time in stasis will… disconnect the guise from reality, like a thread, fraying and falling apart,” The Fixer explained, rubbing the tips of their fingers together like they were pinching apart the end of a rope. “I must go live their life, maintain their relations, and otherwise reinforce to reality that they still exist. The bare minimum is about an hour a week, but as a fresh guise, there is a bit more work to be done.” They gave a pointed look to the side of the dining room where the bag of cash sat slumped against the wall. “That needs to be dealt with as well. It is an inconvenient time of the year, but I’ll manage. I’ve managed before.”

“So, you’re just going to go… huh.” A thought occurred to Erika, remembering just who The Fixer’s new guise was. “Are you going to have to seduce, marry, and murder random people for insurance money?”

“Certainly not,” The Fixer said, aghast that Erika would even suggest that. A bit of Leah might have bled into their disapproval. “Lavender will have had a change of heart as a result of her stint in prison.”

“And here I was thinking it would be cool to have a serial killer… aunt?”

The Fixer immediately shook their head, frowning all the while, though not in disapproval of the joke, as Erika first thought. “Aunt isn’t… the best way to think of this. Too much crossover weakens the guises; it blurs the lines between them. It is best if Lavender remain as separate from the rest of us as possible.”

“Wow. No money and no serial killer aunt. What a waste of a field trip,” Erika muttered, only half serious. It had been fascinating to watch, if nothing else, and as separate as The Fixer said they would have to be, they at least included Erika and Carter in the whole event. Now that she thought about him, she turned to Carter and asked, “Did you at least figure out how to do a devil deal?”

A puzzled expression crossed Carter’s face as he looked up from a slice of cranberry sauce. “Maybe, I haven’t thought about it.”

“You haven’t been thinking about it? That was half the point of the trip.”

“I was thinking about the gears.”

“That’s…” Erika rubbed her forehead, “That’s expected, I guess. Think more about the deal part.”

“I will. After I’m finished,” he said, scooping up a big spoonful of red jelly. Somehow, Erika doubted he was talking about the food.

Dinner fully ended with The Fixer standing, changing into Mister Dice, and departing with the duffel bag full of money. Erika was tempted to go along with them, despite the insistence on separation, if only to ask a few more questions about how living Lavender’s life would go, but decided that if ever there was a day to simply relax, today would be that day.

There were no ghosts to hunt, no body swapped parents unaccounted for, no maggots or ‘gas leaks’ accosting the city, no naked women barging into the house, and no issues with The Eclipse requiring immediate attention—though that last one would have to be dealt with as soon as The Adjustment or The Art showed up again. In short, there was nothing going on.

She kicked back on the couch and her phone immediately buzzed.

“Maybe I will be busy tonight after all,” Erika muttered before calling out a little louder. “You don’t mind if The Stalker comes over, do you?”

Carter, still seated at the table, now with a plate of marshmallow-topped yams, looked surprised to be addressed. “You want someone here?”

“She’s asking to meet up somewhere—The Warrior finished cursing some items for testing—and I figure that she already knows where we live, so no sense getting off my comfy ass to go meet her.”

“What if she’s followed by the tattoo woman?”

Erika opened her mouth… and did not have a good answer for that.

“I don’t think Mommy wants those kinds of friends over either,” Carter added. “She was… sad tonight.”

“Yeah… Hope she and The Fixer work things out, because that’ll be annoying.” That was another reason she didn’t insist on going; with a little alone time together, they might talk more than if she were hanging off their shoulders. Erika groaned like she was twenty years older as she stood. “Fine. I’ll go get my coat. You good on your own here?”

“I can’t come with you?”

Erika considered for a moment, suppressing her first reaction to deny him. It wasn’t guaranteed to be safe, especially not after what happened at the hotel, but at the same time, Carter saw things a little differently than she did. It was possible that he could figure something out where she was blind. In addition, he mucked with time on an entirely different scale and had learned from The Fixer. While her birthday watch worked like a charm, she didn’t know how much stuff she would be breaking, or how much that would drain her watch—if she went over, or otherwise screwed up, Carter could throw those ripples forward into the future.

He might not buy them ten years, but even ten minutes, plus a warning that it happened at all, could mean the difference between getting away or facing that naked chick again.

Erika did not think she was ready for that, not until she figured out how to break the woman properly.

“If you go wash your face,” Erika decided. “And keep it secret from Mom.”

“What about Daddy?”

“Same thing.”

Carter dutifully went and washed up, leaving Erika to coordinate a meeting place with The Stalker. She still had half a mind to invite the undead woman over, but the risk that The Eclipse was watching her was just slightly too great, so they arranged to meet at that same laundromat where Erika first met The Warrior. It wouldn’t be warm, but it wouldn’t be outdoors either.

“Alright,” Erika said, making sure Carter was bundled up. “Rules: you listen to me, no arguing, no complaining. If the situation looks dangerous, you use all your time powers to get away as fast as possible, then you hunker down, stay out of sight, and call The Fixer. You keep hidden until I or The Fixer comes to find you, understand?”

Only with Carter’s verbal assurance did Erika usher him into her truck. Thankfully, there was no snow this December, which made driving much easier for Erika. They made it to the laundromat just as the last rays of the early winter sunset vanished over the horizon.

The Stalker and Simone, the younger of The Stalker’s cultists, waited inside for them. Gone was the table and stylish rug, leaving just a sad, surprisingly clean abandoned building behind. They didn’t even have the fancy little light orbs this time, instead using a few flashlights. Simone wore a large, fluffy coat that looked like imitation fur, but was hard to tell for sure in the poor lighting—quite the contrast from The Stalker, who appeared in her usual style of a relatively thin dress with a strange leather harness with metal rings holding it tight to her body.

Did she not get cold?

“Merry Christmas, if you celebrate that kind of thing,” Erika said as she closed the door behind her and Carter. She didn’t bother introducing Carter—he wasn’t one to talk to others and, frankly, Erika didn’t really want them to talk to him in turn.

“Not really,” The Stalker grumbled. “Just another day.”

“I do!” Simone donned a cheerful grin. “Happy Christmas! Going back to The Stalker’s place after this to blare some Christmas music, slip a tray of cookies into the oven, and wrap a few presents for a few of the others.”

It felt a bit late to be wrapping presents, but judging by the look The Stalker gave her, Simone had said all that more to tease the woman than because it was true. “Well, let’s wrap this up quick so you can get back to your celebrations,” Erika said. “You have something for me?”

“Right here,” The Stalker said, knocking her foot against a small polymer crate that looked like it was for guns.

Simone popped open the two large latches, revealing a foam-padded interior. Instead of weaponry, there were six metal cubes nestled in the padding, each looking like solid steel. “These are all cursed objects,” she said as she produced a stapled set of printed papers. “The details are here, but, in short, don’t touch them with your bare hands if you don’t want to get cursed. They aren’t powerful or debilitating curses, but they might be annoying.”

“The Warrior said that she can break the curses if you are unable,” The Stalker said, the corners of her lips curling in a slight display of sadism. “Left unsaid was that she would be disappointed if she had to do so.”

“I doubt that will be necessary; I’m confident I can break curses, it’s just side effects or lingering magic I’m worried about.” Erika accepted the papers from Simone and started skimming through them. The Warrior tried a few old-style cursing techniques, aiming to curse the cubes similarly to Rick’s sword. Each cube was numbered, differentiating them, and each was cursed in a slightly different way.

One needed a drop of bodily fluid—the paper specified that saliva, mucous, blood, etc. would all work—before it could be let go, but did not have any lingering effects that would bind it to someone. Another would constantly teleport itself to the hand of the last person who touched it, requiring a heavy smack against a surface to get it to stop. Number three would ‘possess’ someone by singing a repetitive tune in the back of their mind until a verbal command to stop was given. Four combined the effects of the first three, but did not list any way of stopping the effects—presumably, it was something to test only after Erika made sure she could break the curses on the others.

Five and six were the real odd ones, having seemingly little to do with Rick’s cursed sword and with no way of stopping their effects. Five made anyone who came into contact with the cube unbearably itchy at a random point on their body, rapidly changing position, with no amount of scratching giving any relief. Six was titled Butterfingers, and made anything the victim touched feel slippery, as if coated in oil.

None of the cubes appeared to have any positive side, which Erika supposed made some sense, given that they were simple tests and The Warrior wouldn’t have wanted to expend resources into giving them an upside. Erika was going to break them anyway, making it a wasted effort.

Reaching into the crate, Erika plucked out cube three—the musical cube—since the way to end its curse seemed simplest. There was a slight film around the cube, just like all the other magic she had interacted with, but she didn’t get even a single second to think about it further.

The moment her fingers touched the cool metal, she heard the strum of a ukulele and a high falsetto voice.

I’m sooo happy, aha! Happy go lucky me! I just go my way, living every day. I don’t worry—

“Stop.”

It stopped, returning Erika to blissful mental silence… for about five seconds.

Things that bother you never bother me. I feel happy and fine! Haha! Living in the sunlight, loving—

“Stop,” Erika said again. This time, she quickly placed the cube back into the crate. Holding her breath, she waited, counting down the seconds. Passing five, hearing nothing, she let out a small sigh of relief. “That’s… wow. I don’t hate Tiny Tim or anything, but you chuck that at someone in the middle of a fight and they’ll be going insane in two minutes.”

“Tiny… Tim?” The Stalker looked confused, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a… unique musician,” Erika said, shaking her head like she wanted to be sure she got all that ukulele out of the back of her mind. “I wonder how you shove a whole song into a block of metal.”

“Magic,” Simone said, wiggling her fingers. “In any case, if you’re satisfied, we’ll be out of here.”

“Sure thing. Thanks for this.”

Simone clasped the crate closed again, sliding it over to Erika. She and The Stalker departed shortly after, delaying only long enough for The Stalker to scan around in a circle with her shimmering eyes.

Erika had planned on testing out a little curse breaking here and now—which was half the reason she brought Carter along—but now, she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know how much she could learn from these cubes, considering she wasn’t a mage, but that film felt important. If she could break it without destroying the cube, she would presumably destroy the curse. While she hadn’t touched Rick’s sword to know for sure, if it was covered in a film and that film wrapped around the handle, she might be able to break it without him drawing it at all, thus keeping them out of danger from it trying to defend itself.

Besides that, The Hunters might be interested in seeing them. Rick, especially, though he probably wouldn’t want to risk touching them, would certainly love creating a few pages in his little wiki for them.

Erika looked to Carter, offering a smile. “See? Nothing too exciting.”

“I’m happy I was included anyway.”

Erika ruffled through his hair, leading to a squawk of protest. Laughing, she said, “Let’s get home before Leah gets back and freaks out about us being gone.”