Muffins and Mass Murder

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amante: someone who works at the pleasure houses

amante gran: a leader of a pleasure house 

***

It was time. And everyone was freaking out.

First the meeting room was too small. We only invited a few people from the Nostras and about as many Lourdes, but the Nostras each insisted on bringing their own security detail. Then it was too large. Too many places to hide, too many places to plant a surprise attack. Then the location was too public. Then it was too remote. I was on my third matcha latte that day and I didn't know whether I needed a nap or more caffeine.

Orion was just as frazzled as I was. He'd been running around the perimeter, not even stopping for water, checking security posts, digital shields, metal detectors embedded in walls. I'd tried to get him some coffee, but he'd taken the cup and promptly forgot about it a few minutes later when one of the windows was messing with the security cams.

And if that wasn't enough, we'd spent the entire morning de boobytrapping the place. This meeting room sat directly on the border between Nostra and Lourde territory. It was owned by the Nostras, but they let us rent it out sometimes. As far as the two gangs went, Lourdes and Nostras actually got along fairly well.

We'd been sharing this particular meeting house for over a hundred years. Nostras could make whatever renovations they wanted, but that meant we all had to get an extended tour before we could set up for the meeting. It was pretty bad form to have one of your guests fall through the floor because some Nostra got bored and designed a false floor. But hijinks aside, Nostras might be willing to help. There were mini alliances within the gangs- the Lourdes and the Nostras, and Thornwood and Cobras. For a stealth operation like this, the gang that traded in information were some pretty good allies. Ideally, Thornwood and Cobras wouldn't know until it was too late, but for that to happen, we needed to make sure that the Nostras were all in. 

The meeting house in question was archaic- literally. We were standing inside a life size reconstructed Greek temple, built by a university that had long since disappeared. Golden pillars pushed up from the floor at regular intervals, supported a vaulted ceiling inlaid with intricate carvings. The marble floors echoed with every footstep. Water spilled from the fountain in the center- an arcing sculpture of three flipping golden fish. And yet the temple was immaculate. Nobody ever knew what the Nostras were doing at any given moment, but clearly somebody thought it was important enough to maintain the upkeep of this place. Inez would appreciate that.

Even with the limited attendance, the room was full. Delegates of all genders, shapes, colors and presentations from the different pleasure houses clustered in circles, clutching glasses of Lourdes wine or sipping discreetly from flasks hidden in their feathered purses. Dominic was playing the role of the benevolent host, providing free food and liquor. Not that that was any sort of convincing. All of the pleasure houses came with private chefs. Amantes gran were accustomed to living lives of luxury. But it helped our image.

Halmeoni on the other hand was doing wonders. Her reputation was making her the life of the party. I had yet to see her alone, she was always in a knot of people, charming them with her smile, reassurance, or when all else failed, a filthy joke. I needed this to go right, not just for me, but for her. Her entire reputation was built on advocating for the amantes, so they trusted her. Which meant if we messed up, the blame fell on her and she lost her credibility. No matter what, I was going to make sure Halmeoni came out unscathed. I might have to pull a few strings, tell a few lies, but I'd roped her into this and I wasn't letting anyone tear her down for my mistakes.

Ha Kun was standing watch at the door, his ever present sucked on a lemon expression in full bloom. His presence was overkill. We had some of the best security in Pardahna, but even the best security didn't prevent us from screwing up utterly. I shot him a Dominic grin, all bright smiles and false promises and he chuckled, a low deep laugh that shook him from the toes up even though his posture stayed still. If anyone knew fake smile when he saw one, it would be Ha Kun. I couldn't imagine being under Dominic as long as he had, enduring those taunts, the names. I'd barely been doing it for a few months and already, I was plotting. Maybe Ha Kun had a plan, something years and years in the making. His insight would be invaluable. There was no one else that knew Dominic's weaknesses the way Ha Kun did. 

City of Fire and InkOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora