Devil's Advocate (The X-Files: Origins #2)(45)

Angelo’s body language changed. He lost the cat grace and assurance and stood there almost meekly. He was twice as muscular as Sunlight, but he seemed to be less than half as powerful. Sunlight’s energy was very old, too, very adult, and Angelo seemed cowed by it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay,” said Dana. “Really.”

Sunlight patted Angelo’s shoulder. “That was gracious of you. Now go tell Corinda that Ms. Scully would like to speak with her.”

“How do you know my name?” asked Dana, surprised.

“How could I not?” he said with mild amusement. “One of the famous Scully sisters. Between you and Melissa, you may be Corinda’s biggest customers. I see you two holding court at the booth behind the counter quite often.”

“Oh.”

“And lately Corinda has become fascinated by you.” Sunlight gestured and Dana glanced over to see Corinda at the register chatting animatedly to a very fat, very rich-looking woman with blue hair and lots of jewelry.

Angelo went back to work, taking books from the open box and stacking them on a table. Sunlight lightly touched Dana’s arm and they moved a few yards away.

“I apologize for anything Angelo might have said to offend you,” said Sunlight. “He’s a little thin-skinned.”

“No, it’s totally fine. He wasn’t bothering me,” said Dana. “I knocked something over and he caught it. He grabbed it so fast, before it could fall. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.”

“Oh, yes, he’s quick,” agreed Sunlight. “But so is his temper. He’s used to being kicked around because of his skin color and his circumstance.”

“Circumstance?”

“He was brought over here as a ten-year-old by his mother, and she died when he was twelve. He went into an orphanage, but that was a particular kind of hell, so he ran away and lived on the streets. Imagine that, Miss Scully, a boy living in alleys and squatting in abandoned houses and yet going to school and getting his diploma. He’s doing his best with what life’s handed him.” Although he was probably less than ten years older than Dana, he spoke in a way that made him seem twenty or thirty years older. Mature, commanding, and self-assured. He had a lot of what Melissa called “personal power.”

“Poverty is an appalling thing,” continued Sunlight, shaking his head. “The fact that we, at our current level of modern civilized evolution, allow it, is unforgivable. Don’t you agree?”

“Y-yes, of course.”

“When I met Angelo, he was trying to live on some piecework at a garage, but it wasn’t enough to live on. Not really. I took him in and gave him a job here, and spoke for him at FSK so they would also offer employment. He’s putting away every dime he can to afford college. Community college, but that doesn’t matter. I offered to pay his tuition, but Angelo is very proud of the fact that he will pay his own way.”

“He should be,” said Dana. “And I feel like a total privileged white girl idiot.”

Sunlight nodded approvingly. “Self-awareness of one’s limitations is a rare and wonderful thing. Most people use pat replies and rely on culturally specific viewpoints, and they never become aware that these are not essential truths in their own experience. This is especially true of people born to some degree of wealth and comfort.”

“We’re not exactly rich.”

“Wealth is relative,” said Sunlight. He gestured toward the booth behind the café cash register, which was the only one open. “Let’s sit for a minute and talk about it.”

She went with him and slid into the booth. Corinda was ringing up a line of customers and said she’d be over as soon as she was free. Sunlight sat across from Dana. He was a strange man. Like someone who did not belong in this century. There was an air of otherworldliness to him. If he were in a Shakespeare movie, he’d be Oberon, king of the fairies, or maybe the sorcerer, Prospero. His bones were delicate, his features sharp except for his full lips, and Dana had never seen eyes of his smoky morning-mist gray hue before. She could understand why Corinda and Melissa were entranced with him. No doubt a lot of girls and women were under his spell. Dana felt it, too, despite the difference in their ages. A simple desire to be in his company and—as Melissa often put it—to “share in his energy.” Just looking into his eyes was hypnotic.

“Wealth,” said Sunlight after they’d ordered tea and a plate of fruit and cheeses from one of the staff. “We were talking about that. You say you’re not rich, but in many ways you are. You have two parents. You have two brothers and a sister. You live in a nice house on a good street. You have never wanted for food, for warmth, for clothes or books or anything material.”

It took Dana a few seconds to process that, and then she sat back, her brow knotting. “How do you know all that about my family? Oh … Melissa told you.”

Sunlight laughed. Soft and pleasant, with no trace of mockery. “Not at all, Miss Scully.”

“Then how—?”

“Corinda told me.”

“But she doesn’t know about my brothers or where we live, does she?”

“You’ve sat with Corinda. You tell me how she knows what she knows.”

Their food and drinks arrived. Dana took a fat red grape from the plate and ate it slowly, thinking about what Sunlight had said.