“His name is Dante?”

“The girls know—knew—him by that name.”

“And by what name d’you know him?”

“The same.”

“And Dante works for what private group?”

Seiran el-Habib hung his head. He was done; Charlie had wrung him nearly dry. “It calls itself the Alchemists.”

*   *   *

“I want to lean on your shoulder.”

Sydny’s cat’s eyes watched Julie in the apartment’s semi-darkness.

“On every level imaginable.”

Sydny smiled. “That’s why you’re here.”

“That’s the new thing you’re leading me toward.”

“One of the new things, but only one. Anyway, as you’ll soon learn, they’re all interconnected.”

Sydny’s one-bedroom apartment was unnaturally large, as if she had bought two apartments and made her one-bedroom out of them. The walls and ceiling were enameled black, the high gloss giving the optical illusion that the rooms were even larger than they actually were.

The bedroom surprised Julie. Though the room was super-sized, the bed was only a double; the rest of the room was furnished in High Spartan fashion: a carved armoire, a high-backed leather chair, a dressing table and stool before a theatrical makeup mirror. Nothing else. The wood floor was bare, as were the glossy aubergine walls. And not a speck of dirt to be seen anywhere.

“Where in the world do you keep your clothes?” Julie asked.

Striding ahead of her, Sydny touched a button and part of the rear wall slid back, revealing a walk-in closet the size of a Manhattan studio apartment. Julie stepped in and a light went on: racks of clothes, racks of shoes and boots. She stood stock-still as Sydny came up behind her.

“You like?”

Julie nodded, dumbstruck.

“Let’s have you try something on,” Sydny whispered in her ear. “What do you say?”

Julie’s eyes closed as she felt Sydny’s breath on her bare neck. “Pick an outfit for me,” she whispered in return.

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” Sydny said with a laugh.

Julie turned around to face her. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Sydny placed her palms against Julie’s cheeks. “Poor lamb, not knowing who you are.”

Their eyes locked.

“There’s nothing inside me, Sydny. Nothing at all.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“No? Then where is it? I can’t feel it.”

“Remember what you felt when I kissed you the other night?”

Yes, Julie mouthed, as if she were afraid to give voice to that feeling.

“Why are you so afraid of it?”

“It’s not me,” Julie said automatically.

“Kitten, do you hear yourself? You’re a walking oxymoron. Everything you say, everything you want cancels itself out. And what are you left with?”

“A vacuum.”

“But nature abhors a vacuum, so we’re going to fill the vacuum.”

“With what?”

Sydny took down a shimmering black bustier and tap pants set. “With everything you think is wrong.”

*   *   *