Dark Light

Chapter 8

SHE EMERGED FROM THE BEDROOM, AN OVERNIGHT CASE in her hand, and found Fontana studying the miniature star dressing room on the coffee table. He looked deeply intrigued.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"An ex-hunter named Jake Tanner built it for Elvis. Poor Jake is a juice addict who lives in an alley a few blocks from here. When he's not in a juice dream, he makes the most amazing miniatures out of discarded items and materials that he scrounges from garbage bins. Elvis's dressing room is his latest masterpiece."

"It's incredible."

She smiled. "Yes, it is."

The dressing room was a marvelously detailed work of art. The walls stood some ten inches high. There was no ceiling, so you looked straight down into it.

The room was complete, right down to the dressing table covered in red velvet and the mirror surrounded by tiny lights. There was also a little guitar. The walls were paneled and set with hooks designed to hold the costumes that Jake had made for Elvis. In addition to his sparkling white cape, there was a short-sleeved shirt printed with exotic tropical flowers. A tiny lei hung next to the tropical shirt.

Elvis popped into the dressing room using the little door. He puttered about briefly, checking to be sure that nothing had changed since he had left it. Satisfied, he came back out and chortled at Sierra.

"The guitar actually works," Sierra said. "Listen."

She reached down into the dressing room and used her fingertip to pluck one of the strings on the small instrument. There was a faint but distinct twang.

Fontana smiled. "Amazing."

She straightened and tightened her grip on the handle of the rolling suitcase.

"I'm ready," she said.

"You don't have to look as though you're going to a funeral."

"Sorry. It's been a long day. I'm exhausted."

He took the suitcase from her and went toward the door. She picked up Elvis and followed.

"So, are you going to work out or something?" she asked, trying to sound casually unconcerned.

"At this hour of the night? I don't think so."

If she had any sense, she would keep her mouth shut, she thought.

"I was under the impression that de-rezzing ghosts had some side effects," she said cautiously. "Or is it different when you manipulate dark light?"

"It's all dissonance energy," he said. He opened the door. "Same side effects."

"I see." She didn't know where to go with that.

Fontana closed the door and turned around to face her. She was forced to halt directly in front of him. He did not touch her, but she noticed that it was suddenly very hard to breathe.

"Something you should know," he said. He used the edge of his hand to tip up her chin.

She managed to rez up a bright, polite smile. "Yes?"

"A man doesn't get very far in the Guild if he can't handle a little afterburn."

Heat suffused her face. "I didn't mean to imply that you were, uh—"

"That I might be crazed with lust because I rezzed those five little ghosts?"

She blushed. "Never crossed my mind."

"Is that right? It crossed mine. The answer is yes, by the way."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'm crazed with lust. Doesn't mean I'm out of control."

"Oh. Good. Well, that's just great. Glad to hear it."

"I'll prove it," he said.

She was transfixed. "How?"

"Like this."

He bent his head and took her mouth. Heat flashed through her, just as it had in the registrar's office. Energy crackled in the atmosphere. Dazed from her own volatile response, she swayed a little, leaning into him. She felt Elvis scramble up onto Fontana's shoulder so that he wouldn't get crushed. It was a smart move. Fontana's chest was quartz-hard, and she was pressed very tightly against him.

She wanted the kiss to go on forever, but Fontana ended the reckless plunge into passion a moment later. He raised his head and set her gently away from him.

"Time to go home," he said.