(It was not the first time a story of ill-matched lovers had been told, of course, but more often than not it was the couple who suffered and died, perhaps because people wanted the perfect pair snuffed out before their love could lose its perfection. Better a murdered ideal, which at least kept hope alive, than one'that withered with time.)

While making her notes for this story Tesla had several times wondered what happened to the golden lovers of Palomo Grove. Here, in room six, she had her answer.

Despite the warning Grillo had given, she was not prepared to find the couple so changed: both gray-faced, their speech and action devoid of any spark of vitality. When, after some wan greetings had been exchanged, Howie began to describe for Tesla the events that had brought them to this sorry place and condition, the pair scarcely glanced at each other.

"Just help me kill the sonofabitch," Howie said to Tesla, the subject of the Death-Boy's dispatch rousing a passion in him absent until now. She told him she didn't have any answers. Perhaps the Nuncio had bestowed some form of invulnerability upon him (after all, he'd escaped the conflagration in the Loop).

"You think he's beyond death, right?" Grillo said.

"It's possible, yes-"

"And that's from the Nuncio?"

"I don't know," Tesla said, staring down at her palms. "I have a taste of the Nuncio myself, and I'm damn sure I'm still mortal."

When she looked up at Grillo again, she saw such despair in his eyes she could only hold his gaze for a moment before looking away.

It was Jo-Beth, who had added little to the exchange so far, who broke the silence. "I want you to stop talking about him now," she said.

Howie threw his wife a sour, sideways glance. "We're not done yet," he said.

"Well, I am," Jo-Beth said a little more forcibly, and crossing to the bed she picked up the baby and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" Howie said to her.

"I'm going to get some air."

"Not with the baby you're not."

There was a litany of suspicions in these few words.

"I'm not going far-2'

"You're not going a-a-a-anywhere!" Howie shouted. "Now put Amy back on the bed and sit down!"

Before this escalated any further, Grillo stood up, "We all need some food in our stomachs," he said. "Why don't we go get some pizza?"

"You go," Jo-Beth said. "I'll be fine here."

"Better still," Tesla said to Grillo, "you and Howie go. Let me and Jo-Beth sit and talk for a few minutes."

There was some debate about this, but not much. Both men seemed relieved to have a chance to escape the confines of the motel for a few minutes, and from Tesla's point of view it offered an opportunity to speak to Jo-Beth alone.

"You don't seem very afraid that Tommy-Ray's coming to find you," she said to Jo-Beth when the men had left.

The girl looked across at the baby on the bed. "No," she said, her voice as pale as her face. "Why should I be?"

"Well... because of what might have happened to him since you saw him last," Tesla replied, trying to put her point as delicately as possible.

"He's not the brother you had in Palomo Grove."

"I know that," Jo-Beth said with a tinge of contempt in her voice. "He's killed some people. And he's not sorry. But... he's never hurt me. He wouldn't ever do that."

"He might not know his own mind," Tesla replied. "He might hurt you, or the baby, without being able to help himself."

Jo-Beth simply shook her head. "He loves me," she said.

"That was a long time ago. People change. And Tommy-Ray's changed more than most."

"I know," Jo-Beth replied. Tesia didn't reply. She just waited in silence, hoping that Jo-Beth would talk about the Death-Boy a little. After a few moments, she did just that.

"He s been all over," she said, "seeing the world... now he's getting tired-"

"He told you that?"

She nodded. "He wants to be quiet for a little while.... He says he's seen some things that he needs to think over-"

"Did he say what?"

"Just things," she said. "He's been traveling around, working for a friend of his."

Tesla hazarded a guess. "Kissoon?" she said.

Jo-Beth actually smiled. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"It's not important."

Jo-Beth raked her fingers through her long-unwashed hair, and said again, "He loves me."

"So does Howie," Tesla pointed out.

"Howie belongs to Fletcher," Jo-Beth said.

"Nobody belongs to anybody," Tesla replied.

Jo-Beth looked at her, saying nothing. But the look of utter abjection in her eyes was chilling.

Would nothing be saved? Tesla thought. There was Grillo, playing his endgame, thinking of the Nuncio as some last reprieve (but not truly believing it); D'Amour climbing the mountain to spend his last hours where the crosses stood; and this poor girl, who had been so blithe and so effortlessly beautiful, ready to be taken by the Death-Boy because love had failed to save her.

The world was turning off its lights, one by one.... A gust of wind shook the windowpane. Jo-Beth, who had turned from Tesla to tend to the baby, looked round. "What is it?" Tesia said softly.

There was another gust now, this time at the door, as though the wind was systematically looking for some way in.

"It's him, isn't it?" Tesla said. The girl's eyes were glued to the door. "Jo-Beth, you have to help me here@' Tesla crossed to the door as she spoke, and gingerly turned the key in the lock. It was a pitiful defense, she knew (this was a force that brought down houses), but it might earn them a second or two's grace, and that might be the difference between saving a life or losing it. "Tommy-Ray's not going to solve anything," Tesla said. "You understand me? He's not."

Jo-Beth was bending to pick up little Amy. "He's all we've got," she said.

JOL, EVEP.VILLE 471

The wind was rattling both the window and the door now. Tesla could smell it as it gusted through the keyhole and the cracks. Death was here, no doubt of that.

Amy had begun to sob quietly in her mother's arms. Tesla glanced down at the child's tiny, knotted face, and thought of what such innocence might rouse in the DeathBoy. He'd probably be proud of infanticide.

The floor was shaking so hard the key was rattled from its slot. And somewhere in the gusts there were voices, or the fragments of same, some speaking in Spanish, some, Tesia' thought, in Russian, one of them nearly hysterical, one of them sobbing. She caught only a smattering of their words, but the gist of it was plain enough. Come outside, they were saying. He's waiting for you...

"Doesn't sound all that inviting," Tesia whispered to JoBeth.

The girl said nothing. She just stared at the door, gently rocking the troubled baby, while the voices of dead pined and moaned and muttered on. Tesla let them speak for themselves. to judge by the look on Jo-Beth's face they were doing a far better job of dissuading her from stepping over the threshold than Tesla could have done.

"Where's Tommy-Ray?" Jo-Beth said at last.

"Maybe he didn't come," Tesla replied. "Do you... maybe want to slip out the bathroom window?"

Jo-Beth listened for a few second longer. Then she nodded. "Good," Tesla said. "Make it fast. I'll keep them busy."

She watched Jo-Beth retreat to the bathroom, then she turned and went to the door. The ghosts on the other side seemed to sense her approach, because their voices dropped to a murmur.

"Where's Tommy-Ray?" Tesia said.

There was no coherent response, just more distressing din, and a further rattling of the door. Tesia glanced over her shoulder. Jo-Beth and Amy were out of sight, which was something. At least now if the ghosts tried to break in "Open... " they were murmuring, "open... open,"and while they murmured they escalated their assault on the door. The wood around the hinges began to splinter, and around the lock too. "It's okay," Tesia said, fearful that their frustration would make them more dangerous than ever. "I'll unlock the door. Just give me a moment."