Zillah (

Zillah took the offered hand, letting his fingernails run lightly over the other man's wrist, a gesture probably far too intimate for meeting someone for the first time. "Oh, I don't handle boredom well. And rock stars are good company."

The house had been done up in dark wood and tapestries when Zillah had arrived, and he hadn't bothered to take them down. It looked so deliciously like an undertaker's home that he couldn't be bothered to change a thing.

Bowie was on the stereo and Zillah had already filled a pipe with opium and left it on the bar. After pouring himself a glass of Chartruse, he went back to the sofa and laid down, watching his guest.

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