Chapter 19: World-Saving Fashion
The sleek black shuttle melted back into the night sky, leaving Essie and Jez tangled in shadow and each other against the boutique’s worn doorframe. Jez’s mouth was still warm from their kiss, her red lipstick smudged just enough to make Essie smile. “Now,” Essie purred, tracing Jez’s jawline with a fingertip, “show me what you cobbled together for the garage.”
Jez pulled back, her icy eyes catching the distant glow of a neon sign. “I don’t want to.” The refusal was soft, final. She turned the key in the deadbolt, the click echoing in the quiet alley. “That collection was for a stranger. A concept.”
She pushed the door open, revealing the boutique’s interior humming with residual energy from their trip. Sequined dresses and velvet blazers on their racks shivered with a soft, internal light. “I look at you now,” Jez said, her voice low, “and I see the canvas. Not the sketch.”
Essie let out a short, breathy laugh and followed her inside. “Ain’t got time for artist’s block, darlin’.” She reached into the deep pocket of her jeans, her movements brisk. She pulled out a fist-sized object that seemed to swallow the shimmering light. It was a fractured, crystalline thing, pulsing with a sickly green rhythm. “We got work to do.”
She tossed it to Jez, who caught it on instinct. The transformer was cold and vibrated against her palm like a trapped insect. “A gift from Bambi,” Essie explained, leaning against a glass countertop. “An infiltrator model. Does the whole shape-shift song and dance without rewiring your brainmeats.”
Jez turned the angry crystal over, her professional curiosity battling a deep-seated dread. “You have more of these?”
“Half a dozen.” Essie pushed off the counter, her hips slicing through the charged air as she walked toward the back room. “They’re just drained, is all. Need a serious jolt. Your little shop here’s practically buzzin’ with leftover juice from that ship.”
She paused at the curtain separating the storefront from Jez’s workroom, looking back over her shoulder. Her expression was all fierce hunger, no playfulness left. “So let’s charge ‘em up and get started. The world ain’t gonna save itself, Jez. And I aim to be wearin’ somethin’ devastating when we kick its ass.”