Bound by Fire and Ink

6 0 0
                                    

In an epic battle between chilaquiles and my gut, the chilaquiles were ahead a dozen to one. Appa insisted on a last brunch at our favorite place to celebrate the Lourdes victory. The restaurant comped the meal and we left filled to bursting with spicy iced chocolate and tacos dripping in vibrant green salsa.

Inez and I had only a few hours together before I had to leave for the party. I hated thinking that it was the last time I'd watch her game, the last time I'd feel her tongue dip between my legs, the last time I'd listen to her laugh. Instead, I put all those feelings in a box and locked it up tight, savoring every moment like precious sunlight.

Now, I was regretting my choice of food, taste buds be damned. My stomach had been complaining all day, probably because I was about to do the stupidest thing I had ever done in my entire life. But I had no other choice. I could handle a little anxiety, but not the shame of failing the people I loved.

The party started earlier than any typical Nostras party. Dominic just won the biggest competition in all of Pardahna so he could've started the party at midnight and no one would have told him no. That was the way of Dominic Sforza.

Tonight, the Abascal mansion was lit up like a flame on a moonless night. Music and laughter poured out of the windows, promising at the delights of joy and merriment. But that illusion, like so many others, was deceptive. The party was invitation only, and security was tighter than I'd ever seen it. Dominic was taking no chances tonight, the most pivotal night of his entire life.

The partygoers had no such qualms. Tonight they were here to celebrate the turning of the city's tide. Tigris no longer ruled Pardahna with an iron fist and it showed. Bare skin, glitter, the thumping of bass that rang out like a heartbeat, it was finally time for the people to enjoy themselves. The grand finale in a month full of revelry and promise.

The scene reminded me of my first time at a Lourdes party, the recruiting ball, where I met Chiara. Instead of dancing the night away with a beautiful girl, I faked someone's death and watched Cedric take his last breaths. The small details of that night; the pink lace of Chiara's gown, the fizz of Orion's pink drink, the ringing of shoes on marble, felt years and years away. None of them belonged here. Distractedly, I returned back to Chiara. I hoped she'd ended up finding a nice, normal girl to settle down with, someone who wasn't entangled in fury and revenge. She was a moment of softness in a night of horrors.

Whatever atmosphere had been created by the Lunar Ball was completely transformed tonight. Shades of neon were replaced by mirror and glass, the shimmering of gold and metallic black sparkling everywhere you turned. The outfits too, worn just as much to intimidate as to impress. But there was still an undercurrent of celebration. We were Lourdes, the most powerful gang in the city. We deserved to walk free tonight. I couldn't deny that I much preferred the rush of power to the quiet, ever present fear of being a trainee. I was the Horned Architect. My name carried whispers on the wind, my footsteps carried fear. The rumors of my blade shone as brightly as my blade itself. I was untouchable, almost.

The irony didn't escape me as I moved through the crowd. The Lourdes parted for me, their right hand over their hearts as a show of respect. Some of the older Lourdes inclined their head in a half bow, triumphant smiles playing on their faces. My actions weren't only my own. By bearing that ink, my victories were theirs. They would claim me as much as I claimed them. My debt to Harabeoji was one thing, but now I held a debt to thousands. Every Lourde across the city was my kin now. Their well being, their safety, rest squarely upon my shoulders. Which meant that I had no choice in what I had to do next.

I kept my mask of humble triumph as I made my way to the food table. A marker of generations of weath and privilege distilled into a piece of preserved wood. My stomach was still giving me trouble. The logical thing to do would have been to find some ginger water or a cup of tea, but I'd always been a stress eater and I wasn't going to die without sampling some of the best food in the city first.

City of Fire and InkWhere stories live. Discover now