I’m wearing a t-shirt with the club logo printed on it—the uniform known as soft colors—no cut needed.The t-shirt will give me a good excuse for my icy skin.
Black jeans and boots are a different kind of uniform; a code of dress the Riders have stuck to for over forty years.
Should I untie the sheathed hunting knife hanging from my belt and leave it outside?No need.Last time, Luna didn't get spooked by it, so she’s not likely to do so now.
Standing at the door, I knock three times, deliberately and slowly.
Muohta barks once, but it’s only to say hi.
Her bare feet patter down the stairs.Good to know her ankle is better.
There are no such things as peepholes or security cameras on Landslide.But she’s expecting me because she recognizes the sound of my bike.
Luna thinks that the old me, Dante, is waiting for her to open the door.I hate to ruin the surprise, but I have high hopes that Luna and I can pick up where we left off, and that she will want to be friends with the “son” as much as she was with the “father.”
Flinging the door open, Luna starts talking before she turns on the porch light.
“Oh my God!I was just having the weirdest dream about you?—”
As artificial light floods the entrance, she gasps, taking a step back.
Time for me to start talking.
“Hey, Luna.I thought I’d come by and introduce myself.”But I make sure to keep my hands by my side because I'm not wearing gloves.“I’m Shadow Sylva, Dante’s son.”
Her face tells me everything I need to know.I misjudged this woman.I must have made a deep impression on her as Dante, deep enough for her to question the story I want to tell her now.
Our bets were way off.When I see how intently Luna is looking into my eyes, I know what she’s about to say.
Stepping aside to make way for me to come in, Luna comes straight out and says it as I move to sit down on the same armchair from the night of our first meeting.
“Nice try, Dante.But I’m loving the makeover.”
For the first time in my life, I don’t know how to reply.I’ve never been second-guessed like this before.Never.
Bending down to pat Muohta, I get my story straight in case she has questions.I guess I’m going with her makeover theory.
I wait for her to sit on the couch opposite.We observe one another in speculative silence.Luna is slightly breathless; her topaz eyes glitter with anticipation.
I think I know how to dodge around the awkwardness we both feel at Luna being able to see through my pretense so easily.
“You said you were having the weirdest dream?”
Nervously shaking her head, Luna backtracks.
“I said too much.”A nervous laugh.“Oversharing is a problem for me.Blame it on the fact that large portions of my day are usually spent staring at a wall.So, when I see a face, I blurt out the first thing that comes into my mind.”
“Walls?”
“I’m an artist.I place tiny terracotta squares onto walls or floors to create mosaics.”Her fingers nervously pleat the hem of her shirt as she fixes her attention back on me.“Is that why you left?”Luna stares at me intently.“To get your hair cut?”
I guess I will have to get used to Luna shocking me to the core like this.I want to tell her the truth.
I left to find out how Tempest died.
I needed to know the awful truth about who her killer was.
And once all those pieces fell into place, I wanted to look more tempting for you.
