"A year ago you were fucking your brains out with him." Her breath came in harsh pants. "He made me."
"Now I've heard everything. You are crazy." Tach threw himself through the sitting room, dragging Sara like a recalcitrant foal. Flung open the door. "Out, out, out, out."
She ran from him, and threw herself onto the bed. Curled up with a pillow clutched to her chest. "No, no, you can't make me. I won't leave. You've got to help me," she wailed as he bundled her into his arms, and staggered back to the door. "Read me! Go into my mind!" she hissed, clinging to his lapels. "I wouldn't touch that cesspool that you call a mind." Fire flared as her nails raked across his face. "WHEN I'M DEAD YOU'LL BE SORRY."
"I'm already sorry."
Tach slammed the door, brushed distastefully at his coat, and crossed to the bar. Seized the cognac and drank directly from the bottle. Spewed as the heat became too much for his throat. He drew a hand across his face, and yelped as the liquor entered the cuts left by her nails.
Help me.
You don't want to believe. When I'm dead you'll be sorry!
The bottle exploded against the far wall. "I'M TIRED OF FEELING SORRY!"
11:00 P.M.
Spector combed his hair up and went at the ends with the scissors. Lank brown strands fell into the dirty sink. The job was near barber standards. He'd cut hair on the side when working his way through school, and had gotten pretty good at it. He picked up the cracked hand mirror and checked the neckline in the back.
"Not bad, my man," he said to himself. He scooped up a fingerful of skin lotion, and rubbed it onto his reddened upper lip. Without the mustache and long hair he looked years younger, not much different from his old college self. Only the pained eyes were forever changed. With his hair washed and blown dry he'd be unrecognizable to anyone who'd met him since he became Demise. Except Tachyon. He'd know regardless.
The thought of the little alien knocked him from his normal sullen mood into a gnawing rage. Making the hit, that would hurt Tachyon. He nodded to the mirror and walked into the living room. The decor was nicer than his apartment in Jokertown. The walls were gray-green; the furnishings were mahogany or other dark woods. He even picked up occasionalIy. He'd made the move back to Teaneck after the Sleeper had roughed him up. Considering the hell that had broken loose not long after, it had been a good idea.
He flopped into the black futon and reached for the TV remote control. His flight wasn't until ten the next day. There would be plenty of time to pack in the morning. He punched up WABC. The set crackled to life and Ted Koppel came into view.
"...little was known about this woman with transparent skin who chose to create her own kingdom in the center of New York City's Jokertown." Koppel's brows were knit together even more tightly than usual. "While police are saying little about the apparent murder, it was seemingly a very brutal affair. There is the possibility that an ace with abnormal strength was involved. Before giving you what limited background we have on this woman named Chrysalis, here's what Angela Ellis, captain of the jokertown precinct, had to say earlier today."
The video cut to a drab press area. A short woman with dark hair and green eyes stood in front of a nest of microphones. She coughed, then paused, and placed her hands palms down on the podium. "The woman popularly known as Chrysalis was found dead at her place of business this morning. Should the medical examiner determine that a homicide has occurred, this office will of course conduct a thorough investigation. We have no further information to give at this time." Voices of questioning reporters immediately rose into a roar. Ellis raised one hand. "That's it. We'll keep you informed as facts become available."
Spector reached for the bottle of whiskey he always kept by the futon. He twisted off the cap and took several swallows. "Shit." He'd never cared one way or the other for the bitch, but something about her being dead made him uneasy. There was blood and death in the air already, and while that ordinarily made him feel right at home he had a gut feeling that he was really going to be putting it on the line to