Chapter 65: Voice of Treason

It hadn’t been too hard to slip away from Jenna, but she still had to wait. Even Jenna, as dumb as she could be, would notice if Kelli took off after Quentin and Razia as soon as they passed. She waited until Jenna took a breath and then blurted out her need to pee. Razia had been right about one thing and wrong about another; Kelli was definitely a spy, but she didn’t work for Mr. Cicero.

The unfortunate part was coming in halfway through the conversation. Maybe with time Kelli could piece together what she had missed, but it wouldn’t help with her unique gift. She had to hear it directly from them in order to make use of it. Still, she had her ears open and mouth shut as she hid around the corner and listened.

“Quentin…You can’t do this. You can’t kill a child.”

Oh jackpot. Kelli fought to keep from giggling. It seemed like she got there at the perfect time. It only got better when the thick headed moonkissed bastard continued on.

“You don’t understand,” Quentin snapped, voice raising. “If I don’t do it, they’ll give her to Cervenka. He’ll torture her. She’ll spend her last moments alive in pain and scared out of her mind. If I do it, I can make it fast. She won’t suffer. Didn’t you say that could be my gift, Razia? This is what I am. I’m a killer. And whether you like it or not, three days from now I’m going to leave for the night and murder a child so someone worse doesn’t do it.”

Oh boy, it looked like someone wasn’t as retired as he thought. This was juicy, this was delicious, this was perfect. Two weeks of having to play the role of a whore was going to be worth it when she reported back in with this. It had been frustrating at first, looking for weaknesses and finding little. The garden and courtyard were no good for her purposes, and the only remaining entrance in or out of the villa would severely limit a crew from entering inside. When they did, they’d contend with the pimp, who if the other girls were to be believed, was more than capable of handling a group of men.

Not unlike the sluts here. Kelli bit her lip, breathing hard with excitement. Maybe this would finally be over and she could put her talents to better use elsewhere. Someplace where she didn’t have to fight to avoid falling asleep while sweaty merchants fucked her.

“What about you?” Razia asked. “How are you going to live with yourself after that?”

“I…I don’t know,” he croaked. “Will you hate me? I don’t care about what anyone else thinks of me, but will you hate me for this?”

Oh, gag. In all her time of spying, she’d only run across murderers with a heart on a handful of occasions. Some of them were just in denial about who and what they were, others acted like feeling bad about it made them better than those who just shrugged it off and did their job. Some were honestly just saps and Kelli was willing to believe that Quentin was the latter. It lined up with what all the other girls said about him, and what she was hearing now.

Their voices dropped to just a whisper. Kelli strained to hear what was being said, but in the end it didn’t matter. She had what she needed. Three days from now, the Moonlit Garden would be undefended. Three days from now, they could strike and be done with this mess. Then it would be time for a nice, long, comfortable vacation doing as little as possible. Maybe she’d hustle some rubes in a tavern for some money by pretending to sing. Not like anyone would know the difference. She peeked her head around the corner.

Aww, how cute. The killer and the whore were staring at each other tenderly, ready to kiss. Kelli shifted and her sandal squeaked on the tile. She froze in place as both of them whirled around to face her. She didn’t have to fake the surprise she felt. “Shit. Is this a bad time?”

“Yes,” Razia said through clenched teeth. “A really bad time.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll come back later.” Kelli backed up slowly, like she was moving away from dangerous animals she didn’t want to provoke. When she slipped out of sight she let out a sigh of relief. That was probably suspicious, but in three days it wouldn’t matter. All she had to do was make it through tonight and deliver the information and everything would be great. She fingered the ring on her right hand and twisted the gem in place. The ring in her hand warmed, letting her know it was working and the wearer of the other ring would know she needed to talk.

“Whew, much better,” she said, sliding back onto the couch with Jenna. The gossip-monger smiled at her return, and Kelli didn’t have to fake her own giddy smile. The only girl in there who seemed to like her, and she was an annoying twit who wouldn’t stop talking once you got her started. Everyone had given her some information, but Jenna had offered it all up on a silver platter. “Where were we?”

“We were talking about going to see a play in a few days,” Jenna said brightly. “Maybe before the Garden opens. Since it’s spring, it’s comedy and romance season. What do you think we should go for?”

“Oh, easy,” said Kelli. “Comedy for sure. I’ve had all I can take of romance.”

The rest of the night passed without incident. For a split second Kelli had worried that being spotted was going to cost her when Razia came out and stared at her long and hard for a few seconds, but that had passed and it was easy enough to just ignore the bald bitch for the last couple of hours before Quentin declared that they were done for the night early and it was time to divvy up pay.

“Four castura to you,” said Razia, dumping a big handful of shards into Kelli’s purse. “Not a very big night for you, was it?”

Kelli took the money with a shrug. “It’s not so bad. Easiest money of my life.” Maybe it would be laying it on a bit thick, but she added, “I wanted to thank you for this opportunity. I know I can be a bit much, but I’ve learned so much while I’m here and I think it’s changed my life.”

The islander’s eyes narrowed. If she was suspicious she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she put on a false smile and said, “I’m glad we could be here for you.”

Then Kelli stepped away, and headed for the exit. Jenna intercepted her before she left. “Want to grab a couple of drinks?”

Kelli shook her head. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I was going to go for a walk. You remember that one guy who pinched my ass and I slapped him?” Jenna nodded that she did. “He met up with me and he’s actually not that bad. I thought I might see him again tonight.”

“Ooooh,” Jenna cooed, looking excited for her. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.” Kelli smiled and walked, not ran, out the front door. Gods, this was it. She was home free. None of them expected anything and no one was going to stop her from reporting in. It was time for the best payday of her life. Once the block of villas was out of sight, Kelli let out a giddy laugh and headed south, taking every turn she could and then going easy for a while to shake off any potential tails. Eventually satisfied that there was no one following her, she made her way for the great bridge that led to the south side.

It was still early in the night, and plenty safe to be a woman traveling alone. She kept to the more brightly lit areas and stayed near the Watch when she saw them, smiling at them and murmuring a greeting when one made eye contact with her. Before too long she was on the other side of the bridge, firmly in Warlord territory. It was only a few more minutes walking after that before she got too close to the tavern she agreed to meet at and was stopped.

“Hold it,” a mustachioed man with a line of glass daggers on his belt said, blocking her way. “This is a private club, and you don’t look like one of us.” From all around them, men watched, waiting for now but ready to pounce on her if she didn’t take the polite warning and leave.

Kelli just rolled her eyes and opened her mouth. When she spoke, it wasn’t with her voice. A high pitched, breathy, excitable man’s voice came out instead. “If any of my boys give you any trouble, let them know that Piro demanded that you be let in.”

The reaction, like usual, was as sudden as it was funny. The guy flinched at hearing his boss’ voice come from her. Just to add to it she added, in Christophe’s sulky, oily voice, “And if any of them give you trouble they’ll be answering to me for it. They know better.”

The men around them closed in until there was no way back and no way forward. They all looked surprised and on edge, like it was some kind of a trick. Kelli rolled her eyes and groaned. “Just take me to Piro and he’ll decide whether or not this is a good idea. You can do that, can’t you? C’mon, I’m in a hurry.”

The man in front of her flinched and then nodded. “Yeah, fine. But if they don’t know you, you and I are going to have a long, private conversation,” he leered.

She rolled her eyes and repeated what he said back to her in his own voice. The leer faltered. He motioned with his head for her to follow and he brought her the rest of the way to the tavern, with the other men following behind. He opened the swinging doors and ushered her inside.

The thing about gang taverns is they were often run down and in poor repair, but in a way that felt comfortably lived in and homey. At least, that’s what she thought they were going for. The place was filthy and its clientele mostly teens and men in their twenties and a handful of gutter trash women sucking up to them. All eyes were on her as she was led to the back room. A knock on the door and a quick muttered conversation later, she was ushered inside.

Sitting inside with his back to the wall was Piro Pentius and at his side was Christophe, taking up a couple of chairs and sitting as tall as most people were standing. His long hair and beard looked washed compared to last time she saw him. His dark, empty eyes met her as he brought a cup up to his mouth and drank. Piro stood up, hands spread out and said, “Look who it is! Kelli, Kelli, Kelli, please come in and tell me you have good news for me.”

“That depends,” she said, smirking. “Do you have good money for me? This job has sucked a fat one. Literally, in some cases.”

“I assume you were paid for the sucking,” said Christophe. “If so, why the fuck are you complaining about it? You knew what you were in for.”

“Christophe, please,” Piro said in an indulgent voice. “She’s just busting our balls, now aren’t you?”

Kelli nodded, shrugging. “Mostly. I do have good news, though. You’re finally going to get your chance to get your hands around Razia’s throat, and you’re going to do it without any resistance. Your main threat won’t be there.”

“The moonkissed mercenary?” said Christophe. “What’s going on with him?”

Before she answered, Kelli sat down across from Piro and leaned back on the chair, kicking her feet up. “Well for starters, Quentin won’t be there.” She cleared her throat and Quentin’s voice came out of her mouth, “And whether you like it or not, three days from now I’m leaving for the night and I’m going to murder a child.”

Piro let out a low whistle. “Wow, he just came right out and said it?” He shook his head. “This is excellent news. It won’t be any effort at all to plan a quick smash and grab, right brother?”

Christophe shook his head, smiling darkly. “No, the hardest part will be the trip from the whorehouse to the bridge. Once we’ve got her over the bridge, our people will be there to handle any problems that arise. We can arrange for a few of our Watchmen to be active around that time, just in case there’s trouble. Cicero won’t even know we were there until after we’re gone. When she gets here, I want first crack at her.”

Piro’s face twitched for a second. It was subtle, but Kelli was trained to look out for that sort of thing. He hated that idea. “How bad you going to hurt her?” she asked.

“Why?” Christophe turned his glittery black eyes to her. It made her want to shiver. “You having qualms of conscience all of a sudden?”

“Not at all,” Kelli scoffed. “Whatever you do to her, I hope it lasts a while. She’s a smug, self righteous, pretentious bitch. You won’t believe the kind of shit we have to listen to before we open up for the night. Like…” Kelli screwed up her face for a second, and then put a horribly fake smile on her face and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Remember, what we do here is healing. It doesn’t matter if our clients are young, old, gross, handsome, we need to make them feel wanted and seen. That’s your real job, the sex is secondary.”

Their reaction to hearing Razia’s voice was interesting. Piro’s eyes lit up with excitement and a genuine, boyish look of jovial surprise spread across his face. Christophe, on the other hand, gripped his cup so hard it shattered, spilling the remains of his drink on the table. “That’s her,” he growled. He grabbed a rag and cleaned his hands off and snapped his fingers. One of their nearby sycophants gave him their cup. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she realizes there’s nowhere to go and no one coming for her.”

“Let’s discuss that later, at length,” said Piro. “There might be some useful information to extract from her before you get to have your fun. Better to be safer than sorry, and all that. The important thing is we’ll both get our pound of flesh from her and everything will go back to the way it should be.”

Kelli yawned. “I’m happy for you two, I really am,” she said. “But this is enough, right? You don’t need me there anymore, so I’d like to take my money and leave. If I have to have one more middle aged man on top of me I’m going to scream.”

Piro and Christophe shared a look. Oh, how Kelli hated that look. It was only for a second, but she knew a silent conversation when she saw one and this was something they had both expected and talked about without her. “Not so fast,” said Christophe. “You’re not done until we say you’re done.”

“That is to say,” Piro laughed, “you’re needed for just a little bit longer. If you were to leave now and not show up, it might spook them. Besides, we’re going to need you to be there in three days to give the signal that we’re good to move. When is the mercenary, this Quentin character, going to be gone?”

Kelli shrugged. “I don’t know, I figured for at least half the night. If he’s really going to be out killing some kid, I don’t think he’s going to rub elbows with people in a whorehouse and then step out for some light murder after. I expect he won’t be there when they open.”

“That’s another thing,” Piro said, snapping and pointing at her. “Why is he going to kill a kid? Who’s paying him to do that? Who is this guy?”

“I think he works for Mr. Cicero,” Jenna’s voice said. In her own, she added, “I got a bunch of rumors out of the girls and a couple of personal stories about him. The majority of them believe he’s a killer for hire that works or worked for Mr. Cicero. The Moonlit Garden was a gift to him as a reward for years of service. Word is, Razia is clinging to Cicero for protection and he put Quentin on the task. She’s got him by the balls and obedient to her.”

“Got him by the balls, huh?” Christophe looked pointedly at Piro. “Can’t imagine that happening. It’s almost like she’s good at charming weak willed -- “

“Yes yes, I was thinking with my dick and it got us in some trouble,” Piro waved him off, looking unbothered. “The important thing is we’re fixing it.”

“Says the guy who hasn’t been forced to live in a shack for three months,” Christophe growled.

“ANYWAY, what else can you tell us about him?”

“He’s a big guy,” said Kelli. She motioned towards Christophe, “Not as big as you, but big. He’s always frowning, even when he smiles, and he’s often quiet while the rest of them are talking, just watching. Honestly surprised he’s killing a kid given how he acts around the girls, but every single one of them believes he’s a killer. According to them, they’ve seen him fight entire groups of men on his own and win. I doubt it’s something your boys will have a problem with, but you probably shouldn’t underestimate him either. Now, about my money…”

Sighing, Piro pulled out his purse. He fished out ten aquilo pieces and slid them across the table. “For your services so far. You’ll get the rest when I have Razia back.”

Kelli glared at him. “That wasn’t the deal, Piro. You wanted information, I got you information. I got you more than you expected or could’ve dreamed. I’m practically gifting this bitch to you, and you -- hey!”

The two of them shared another look, then Christophe’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her forward until she was sprawled out across the table. Panic ate at her, sudden and uncontrolled as she was pinned down with her arm at a very unpleasant angle. “And now we’re changing the deal,” Christophe said. “You got a problem with that?”

Kelli shook her head.

“Good.” Christophe released her.

Piro poured her a cup of wine and slid it across the table. She took it in shaking hands and took a drink of it, recognizing it as the conciliatory gesture it was. “Yeah, sorry about that,” Piro said, sounding anything but. “We need more from you. Three days from now you’ll show up to work as if nothing is wrong and you’ll wait. When you’re absolutely sure Quentin won’t be there, you’re going to twist the ring and then my men will take care of it.”

“I understand,” she said quietly, looking anywhere but at them. “And then you’ll pay me the rest?”

“Cross our hearts and hope to die,” said Piro. “But for now, I want to hear everything you’ve got. Straight from the whores’ mouth. Tell us everything your new friends have said.”