That was quite a setback. He had to be born anew. Had to grow up all over again.
He looked down at the gloved hand resting in his lap and sent impulses from his brain to the circuitry there to wiggle his fingers.
Born without an arm.
But now he was back. Fiona seemed willing to rejoin him. The world could be controlled through a computer screen. Through a phone. Together, they could find a way to amplify their influence one hundred fold. Hollywood...social media...all they had to do was influence the right people and the world would collapse on itself.
On its own miserable sniveling, selfish self. Only the strongest would survive.
Survival of the fittest.
Rune caught movement through his windshield and looked up to watch a bearded man wave at the security guard as he walked through the gate and out of Parasol Pictures, headed for his car.
Ryft.
Rune pressed the ignition button and shifted into drive.
Chapter Eight
Catriona tossed the VHS tape on Sean’s desk with a clattering of plastic.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a video of an unconscious Tyler Bash being thrown into the trunk of a black Mercedes and driven away.”
Sean cocked an eyebrow. “Please tell me this is some kind of new actor prank.”
“No such luck. It happened outside Jay’s last night. I don’t know the guy carrying his shoulders, but the girl at his feet is Dez.”
“Alain’s Dez?”
“Yep. Tyler’s girlfriend confirmed he has gambling issues. He left to play and never came home. Robert Williams says Tyler was at the game and he was losing.”
Sean chuckled. “Bob Williams. That old fox is still playing, huh?”
“He said to say hi.”
“Hm.” Sean sighed. “So the kid owes Alain money. You’ve run into Dez before?”
“Once or twice.”
“Careful. That little girl packs a punch. I once watched her beat a man twice her size unconscious.”
“You didn’t stop her?”
Sean shrugged. “He didn’t work for us and her bloodlust faded pretty quickly with me nearby.”
It took Catriona a moment before she realized what Sean was telling her. “You influenced Dez to be a better person? Just by being there?”
He nodded. “Though it works better if you concentrate on it.”
“Hm. I’ll have to give that a shot.”
Sean rocked in his chair. “We need Tyler back by Monday or this is going to be a real problem. I’ll call Alain. In the meantime, you two pack for Vegas. Even if I convince Alain to let him go, he isn’t going to deliver him.”
“You think he took the kid to Las Vegas?”
“More than likely. That’s his home base.”
Sean found his phone and Catriona turned to leave.
“Where’s Broch?” asked Sean as he searched for the number to dial.
Catriona opened the door.
“I left him talking to half a horse.”
Sean nodded. “Tell him not to lend him any money. Go pack.”
Catriona stepped outside to find Broch pulling a twenty dollar bill out of the leather sporran she liked to call his man purse.
She hastened her pace and caught his hand before he could pass the money to a man leaning against the wall of Studio Three, smoking a cigar. The man wore the back-end of a sparkling pink pony costume.
“Rick needs money,” said Broch.
“No. Rick knows because he works on a kid show, people don’t immediately realize what an asshole he is.” She scowled at the half-man, half-sparkly pony. “Shame on you. Quit taking advantage of the new employees.”
Rick frowned. “You’re no fun.”
Catriona motioned to the cigar. “And you know Gustav hates the smell of those things.”
Gustav was the magical pony’s head.
Rick rolled his eyes and muttered a profanity to show how little he cared about the preferences of his better half.
Catriona tapped Broch’s arm. “Come on. We have to pack for Vegas.”
Broch shrugged at Rick and followed Catriona away.
“Rick said his hoose burned down,” he said as they headed for their apartments above the payroll office.
“He lied.”
“He said he lost everything.”
“He lied twice. If you’d given him that twenty, next week his parakeet would have contracted bird flu.”
“Whit’s Vegas?”
Catriona turned to him. “That’s a good question. I’m not sure I can explain Vegas to you. You sort of have to see it.”
“Try.”
Catriona hooked a thumb back towards Rick. “Picture that guy in half a sparkling pink pony costume as the most normal person here.”
Broch frowned. “Whit?”
“Okay, picture the Parasol studio lot, only everything is three times as big, three times as weird, and covered with lights, boobs and glitter.”
Broch frowned.
“I cannae. Yer tairible at this.”
Catriona shrugged. “It’s not my fault. I told you you wouldn’t be able to picture it. You’ll understand when we get there.”
The phone in Catriona’s pocket dinged and she retrieved it to find a new text message from Sean.
Can’t reach Alain but you’ll find him at the penthouse of the golden tower.
“The golden tower?” She winced. “That’s a terrible name.”
Her phone dinged again.
Get a blank check from Jeanie. Tell her I okayed it.
Catriona grinned.
Loose in Vegas with a blank check?
“We’re going shopping,” she said aloud.
“We are?”
“No. Just kidding. Joke to myself.”
“Och. Hilarious. Be sure tae shaur yer next private joke wi’ me tae.”
She glanced at him. “You know, you’ve gotten a lot more sarcastic since you showed up here.”
Broch muttered under his breath. “Ah wonder how come.”
Her phone dinged again.
Take the jet.
“Really? This is like Christmas. We get to take the jet.”
Broch paled. “Ah don’t lik’ planes.”
“It beats driving four hours.”
“Nae it doesnae.”
They entered the payroll office and Catriona smiled as she approached Jeanie. The payroll clerk sat behind her desk in a turquoise scoop-neck tee and a necklace adorned with
