Melody Rush tossed her waist-length ponytail over her shoulder as she squinted at the drawing board.
âThatâs not quite what Iâm looking for, Bass,â she told her friend, a hulking goth with bloodred streaks in his black hair. âCan you arch your back a little more?â
âIf I arch it any more, Iâm going to fall on my head. Iâm defying gravity as it is,â he moaned. Arms outstretched, head thrown back, Bass struggled to contort his spine as though reeling from a powerful blow.
Melody tried to sketch faster, realizing she was wearing out her modelâwhich is why she didnât typically rely on them to develop her comic-book characters. âIâm sorry, dude, but this was your idea, remember?â
For years, Bass had been begging to be the inspiration for a character in one of her graphic novels. Finally, Delilah, her flashy African-American heroineâsupermodel by day, electrically-charged crime fighter by nightâhad beaten up all the local villains and was in need of a fresh archenemy.
âI remember,â he paused to groan. âBut, I thought Iâd at least get in a few good licks. So far, in all these poses Delilah is kicking myââ
âBass, Iâve already told you, the Ambassadorâs power is primarily cerebral. After this colossal butt-kicking he concocts a mind-control spell to take over the world.â
âYeah, whatever. Canât I hit her just once?â
Melody shot him a look, pointedly ignoring the question. âOkay, you can relax. I think Iâve got what I need.â Her pencil flew over the sketch pad in rapid strokes that finally ended in a flourish.
The chains looped through his wide-leg jeans rattled as he straightened. âYou ever notice that Delilahâs enemies are always men?â he asked, cracking his neck. âIf youâre not careful, your fans will start to think youâre a man-hater.â
âHah, Iâm far from a man-hater,â she said, waving him off.
âI donât know, youâre much nicer now that weâre not dating. But, I still think youâre using Delilah to express your pent-up aggression toward men.â Bass was forced to take a hasty step back as Melody surged to her feet.
âI do not have pent-up aggression.â Sticking one hand on her hip, she waved the index finger of her other hand in the air. âFirst, Iâve always been niceâyou just didnât know how to stand up to me. Second, Delilah is not an extension of me. In fact, sheâs my polar opposite.â
âOpposite?â Bass snorted. âCome on, she has the same brown skin tone as you, the same unbelievably long hair, and sheâs tall and curvy, just like you.â
She answered the lascivious arching of his brow with a hard glare. âPhysical similarities mean nothing. Delilahâs a girly-girl. Iâm a tomboy. She wears Prada suits and Jimmy Choo shoes. I wear cargo pants and army boots. Iâm sick of people trying to draw a connection between Delilah and me. Sheâs completely fabricated.â
Except, maybe, for her hair. It was Melodyâs only true vanity. Sheâd given Delilah her trademark waist-length hair because she was so proud of it. Though she most often kept it in a braid or ponytail streaming down her back, she was meticulous when it came to grooming it.
âFine, donât blame me just because youâre bound by the dark chains of denial.â
She rolled her eyes, sitting back down at her desk. âDonât be so melodramatic.â
He took a step toward her. âNever mind. Can I see how I turned out?â
âNot yet,â she said, covering the drawing. âI need to play with it a bit more.â
âFine, but, for all my effort, youâve got to give me something.â Bass, topping six feet with the build of a heavyweight wrestler, rubbed his hands together like an eager little boy. âHow about giving the Ambassador X-ray vision? Iâm dying to see what Delilah wears under that catsuit.â
Melody started to quip that he wouldnât be able to handle it, but was interrupted by the telephone. She crossed the room and glanced at the caller IDâit was her sister.
As much as she loved her younger sibling, she wasnât in the mood to discuss fabric samples or cake flavors for Stephanieâs upcoming wedding.
After the fourth ring, she answered the line. âWhatâs up, Steph?â
âGet ready to buzz me in, Iâm a block away from your apartment, and Iâve got a present for you.â
Melody sighed, hanging up the phone. These days that could mean a lot of things, and none of them good.
âMy sisterâs on her way up here, Bass. You may want to hit the road.â Her sister and her best friend detested each other.