Kelli sat there in disbelief as everyone started talking at once.

“What the fuck just happened?”

“Did that statue move!?”

“Why am I so damned hard? I could hammer a nail with it.”

At the cross, Isa had uncuffed Lucy and cradled her in her lap. She brushed a strand of dark hair out of Lucy’s face, then pulled the torn dress to cover her as best as it could. Isa met Kelli’s gaze and Kelli shuddered. There was something off in Isa’s eye. It wasn’t filled with hate or anger or disgust. The bitch looked serene, of all things. And so did Lucy, who had a small smile on her face.

“This is really uncomfortable,” Jenna said from beside her, cupping her breasts. “Does that mean it worked? The statue moved. I don’t think Razia’s capable of faking that.”

Kelli didn’t know what she believed. She didn’t know what her bosses would believe either. It was there inside her, the sound of the entire ritual. The voices at least. The cracks of the whip and the horrible sound of grinding metal wouldn’t carry through. That was a relief, at least. It was a sound she never wanted to hear again and would never forget. Like the world itself was cracking open as the statue looked to the heavens.

Worst of all, she was uncomfortably turned on. That was something she didn’t think would ever happen working there. Mentally she was disgusted but her body was alive and seeking some relief. A quick look around the room told her she was far from alone. As best as she could tell, it was that unnatural pent up lust that kept everyone from freaking out over what they witnessed together. It didn’t stop the whispers going around.

“I don’t think Razia faked it,” Kelli agreed, trying to force her heart to slow down. “I don’t know what happened, but I don’t think it was fake.” She stood on shaky legs. Jonas, Samantha, and Bruce headed towards the garden while the chatter got louder and more heated. It continued until Tenchi broke through with a loud laugh.

“Well well well,” Tenchi said as dozens of heads turned towards him. He sat reclined on the couch, arms spread along the back and around Cullen’s shoulder. “That was EXCITING! Who needs a drink?”

It turned out everyone did. Little Tricia ran herself ragged, bringing drink after drink to muttering gladiators and whores. Eventually Lynne got up to help her. It was her who brought a couple of glasses to Jenna and Kelli. Alcohol was very much welcome after all of that. Kelli downed her wine fast, swallowing hard.

“Do you think Razia was telling the truth?” Jenna asked suddenly, “about Mr. Q being immortal?”

“Of course not,” Kelli scoffed. “If he was immortal, then why did we sit here and watch Isa whip Lucy and then fingerblast her while Razia begged for healing? I bet she was just desperate and didn’t know what else to do.”

Jenna choked on her drinked. Kelli bit back a laugh at the way she sputtered at first, then let go when Jenna started laughing. “Gods, that was kind of weird, wasn’t it? But how else do you explain what happened? It’s either real or it wasn’t.”

Kelli didn’t have an answer. Either this was good news or bad news. If Quentin was actually dead for good and this was fake, then maybe she’d be able to get out of this assignment and skip town for greener pastures. Or anything green. The endless browns and tans of the desert were starting to get to her. If he wasn’t dead, then things got complicated. A few seconds later, her heart fell.

From the garden came Jonas and Bruce, carrying Quentin between them. The bastard looked like death warmed over but his eyes were open and he almost walked on his own. The room fell into a hush as they helped Quentin into his big plush chair. He grunted and settled in, looking around. He raised one hand weakly. “Hey. What’d I miss?”

The Garden erupted with laughter, cheers, and incredulous demands to know what the hell happened. Kelli sat back down, listening as carefully as she could, trying to pick out the more important voices to know who to mimic later. It wasn’t easy. In all her time there, there had never been such a loud fuss about anything, not even when the mercenaries invaded for a night. Razia sat on the arm of his chair, hand on his shoulder for moral support. Tears were in her eyes, but she looked happy. Quentin raised a hand and everyone fell quiet.

“I’m sure you all have questions,” he said. His voice was weaker than usual. He sounded exhausted, but dead men didn’t talk. This was real. “I’m afraid my secret is out. I cannot die. Any harm done to me I will heal. I am Tsaba’s favored child. That is what it means to be moonkissed. It is not a curse, I was given life by death herself.”

Kelli couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wasn’t alone. “We saw you die,” someone said from the crowd. That got a chorus of agreements.

“You had a fucking sword in your stomach!” One of the gutter girls shouted.

Quentin smiled and pulled at the hole in his tunic. Almost as one the entire room leaned in to get a better look. Kelli saw a nasty scar just above his belly button. “And let me tell you, it really, really hurt. I don’t recommend being stabbed.” There were a couple uneasy laughs.

“I thought you didn’t like the term moonkissed,” said Razia, raising an eyebrow.

Quentin shrugged. “I don’t. But I can no longer deny who, or what, I am. I am moonkissed. If you kill me I will just come back again stronger. And I think I have some unfinished business with the Warlords. I owe Christophe a death.” He put his hand on Razia’s and squeezed.

All around the room, the people were divided. A few people less close to the Garden were uneasy, staring at Quentin like he was dangerous or insane. The others looked on in what Kelli recognized as adoration. She swallowed. This complicated everything. Christophe needed to know about this, but Razia knew she was a spy. Maybe she could use that to her advantage. But only after she got enough information.

Tricia came around with a bottle of wine and handed it to Quentin, who gratefully took it and drank deeply from the bottle. He made a face and grunted, but when he opened his eyes he looked mostly calm. “I need your help,” he said. “If we’re going to take on Christophe and the Warlords, I can’t do it alone. Together we can get justice for Demetrius. War is here, but together we can win it.”

Jonas let out a cheer and the other gladiators followed. “I’m with you!”

“And me,” said Bruce, a crooked smile on his face. “Things are way more interesting here than the Colosseum.” That got a couple of laughs and another, louder cheer followed by nearly all of that faction volunteering. Not all, but most, that was good to know.

“I’m assuming you don’t mean us,” one of the gutter girls piped up, laughing.

Razia answered this one. “You girls know the streets and the taverns better than anyone. You either know everyone or you know someone who knows someone. We’ve got Cicero’s assistance but we could use your help keeping an eye open for any incursions. Things are going to get ugly soon and by helping us, you help yourselves as well. Just think about it,” she smiled.

A murmur passed through the girls, but there was no common consensus. Razia didn’t look bothered by it. Ugh, she was making eyes at Quentin. She was far from the only one. All of them were looking at him, but her, Isa, and Jonas of all people seemed particularly interested in mooning over him.

“So does that mean the ritual worked?” Samantha asked.

“What ritual?” Quentin asked, looking around. His eyes stopped at the statue of the Pierced Heart, still looking upwards.

“Razia led us in prayer and Isa tortured Lucy as a sacrifice!” Samantha chirped.

Quentin made a face and turned to Lucy and Isa. Lucy shrugged, snuggling against Isa. Isa nodded at him. “Sensual torture, for whatever it’s worth. Lucy was a good subject. Razia suggested it and by the gods, I guess it worked. I’ve never felt something like that in my entire life. Felt…touched.”

“Huh,” he said, slumping into his chair. He wore a small smile. “Well, I’m incredibly grateful for all of you. It sped my return up. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us and I’m going to be honest with you all: I’m fucking exhausted. Talk tomorrow. For tonight, party here!”

He got another cheer before Jonas and Bruce helped him up again. Those three and Razia slipped out again, leaving the rest of the peons to themselves. This was probably the perfect time to skip out and have no one question it.

“This is weird,” said Jenna, wrinkling her nose. “Bossman was already scary enough, but everything that happened tonight is…I dunno. It’s weird.”

Kelli agreed with her. “He said it’s not a curse, but…”

Jenna nodded. “I don’t want any part in a war. Might be time to get out of here sometime if things get too hairy. What are you going to do?”

“I like it here,” Kelli lied. “I feel like things are going to get better around here now. Once word gets out about all of this, who’d be crazy enough to try to attack someone who’s just going to get back up?”

The background noise grew louder and louder as they talked and the room got more to drink. Now that the shock of the ritual and Quentin’s return had time to settle in and wear off, things quickly turned celebratory. The gladiators especially seemed happy for him to return, although the other girls of the Garden all seemed pretty happy, other than her and Jenna.

“I’m going to stretch my legs for a bit and wander,” said Kelli. “Do you want anything?”

Jenna relaxed in her seat, holding up a still mostly full goblet of wine. “I’m good. I think I just need to think for a while, you know? This is so huge. What if others think he’s cursed and clients stop coming here?”

Then Kelli would die of happiness. “I don’t see that happening. Things’ve been way too busy for them to just dry up now. I give it three days until things are back to normal.”

“Yeah?” Jenna thought about it. “Huh. Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”

Kelli left her there and wandered around the room. This was the easiest part of doing her job. All she had to do was get close to people and listen. Her power would collect everything she needed to give to her handlers and they’d pass it on to Christophe and Piro. Things were too tense for her to risk going across town now. She took another drink from Tricia and stopped near a couple of gladiators chatting animatedly.

“...shouldn’t be surprised,” one of them said to the other. “I remember seeing him take a spear to the stomach. Right in the guts, and not only did he not die, he was up in two weeks and right back at work.”

His friend shook his head, laughing breathlessly. “Guess he was perfect for his job, wasn’t he? Considering…” That’s when he noticed Kelli and clammed up immediately. “Can we help you?” he asked, turning to her.

Kelli just smiled and sippeda at her drink. “What was he doing that was so dangerous?” she asked brightly. “He doesn’t talk about his past often, but you all seem to know him pretty well!”

The two shared a look. Then the first gladiator cleared his throat. “Training dummy, basically. We’d test ourselves against him and sometimes things got out of hand. That’s why we’re all pissed about Demetrius,” he said, looking at his friend.

“Yeah,” the second man said, “I was certain he was going to be the next head trainer after Demetrius retired. I guess that’s never going to happen now.”

That was some new information. Was he one of the trainers at the Colosseum when he wasn’t working for Cicero? Kelli guessed that made sense. Most people she knew worked a couple of jobs. Anything to scrape together enough shards to live in this hellhole of a city. It explained how deadly he was. Training with gladiators, killing for Cicero, and maybe immortal. This was already a lot of information, but she needed more.

They didn’t notice her leave. Kelli wove in and out of the crowd, stopping whenever she heard something that could be promising.

“...Screw Amicus, honor is more important.”

She had no idea who Amicus was, but it was another nugget of information that could be useful.

“...expanding soon, and I think it’s not a terrible idea. They’ve already got more girls than they have rooms and…”

She knew about this one. It seemed like idle talk, just daydreams of growing larger and larger. They joked about buying out the rest of the block and making a whore’s paradise. There was no way he had the shards to do that, right? Kelli added that info to the pile.

She crept behind Jonas, facing away from him to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping. “I think this is a good sign,” he said to Bruce. “Everything. I’ve never seen our guys so unified.”

“I think part of it’s overcompensating,” Bruce admitted quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the constant buzz of conversation. “We ignored him for years, treated him like a pariah. And I mean, obviously there’s a reason for that but I think a lot of us feel guilty. Shit, I do.”

“He doesn’t hold it against anyone, I think. Especially when we’re all on the same side and have a common goal. I hope we can venture south and crack some skulls. The Warlords picked a fight with us. Dumb bastards didn’t know we live for fighting!” Jonas laughed and Bruce joined him.

Kelli made herself scarce, circling the edges of the room, but the conversation was mostly the same. People talking about the Immortal Mr. Q and the future. Some people still talked about the ritual and the miracle they were all a part of, but surprisingly the emphasis was on Quentin’s claim of being god touched. It was something no one could refute, but they also couldn’t agree on what it meant.

After about twenty minutes of this Kelli returned to Jenna. “I think I’m going to go home,” she said. “I’ve got a killer headache and all this noise isn’t helping.”

Jenna made a sympathetic noise. “Get out of here then, and be safe. That ritual’s got me feeling all weird still.”

“Me too,” Kelli said honestly. “Gonna go sleep it off. Stay sexy, slut.”

Jenna laughed and toasted her. Kelli gathered her things and stepped out the front door. Someone was waiting there, looking at her hopefully. “Closed tonight,” she said. “Come back in a couple days.”

“Oh,” he said, turning around and walking off.

Kelli watched the man trudge off, taking a moment to catch her breath and think things through. The night was far from over, and she was going to be exhausted by the end of it. But first, she twisted the gem on her enchanted ring. That would give her handler time to meet up with her. All that remained was walking home.

The spring night was honestly nice, and even felt safe enough if she stuck to the more populated streets. It wasn’t yet late enough for only the degenerates to be out, and Kelli took her time, even stopping to get a snack at a street vendor. Anything to give her handler a bit more time to arrive and to shake off any possible tails. Ever since Razia confronted her, Kelli’s paranoia screamed at her whenever she left the Moonlit Garden.

The insula she stayed in was halfway down to the river, in a nondescript neighborhood that was safe enough. It was out of the way enough to be safe from accidental discovery, but still close enough to the river to get the fuck out in a hurry if she needed. Her handler was already there, waiting for Kelli. He motioned for her to sit on the bed while he was in the one good chair. She did as she was told, heart pounding.

Her handler didn’t look like he belonged in a gang. He was a middle aged man with a well trimmed dark beard and nice clothes. Byrne looked more like a fairly comfortable merchant than anything. “Report in,” he said.

And she did. Everything, from the week of waiting to the ritual to Quentin’s return from the dead and conversation. Byrne listened to her without interrupting, save to ask a question to clarify. Halfway through reciting overheard conversations, Kelli allowed herself to relax. This was better than dealing with Christophe and Piro directly. She didn’t feel as if her life was in jeopardy with Byrne.

“...so, I don’t know what else to say,” said Kelli, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know if he’s immortal or not, but we saw him die and then he was up and about again.”

“We’ll have to test it,” he said, fishing out a flask and taking a drink. “You’ll continue listening in and avoiding attention as best you can. But when you get a chance to strike, you’re going to poison his wine. We’ll kill him as many times as it takes for it to stick.”

Kelli blanched. She was afraid of that. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t see a way out of it. Best case scenario, it would prove he wasn’t immortal and then she could finally leave. Worst case scenario…Well, maybe it was better not to think of it.

“Understood,” she said. “I’ll do my best.” This job was getting worse every day.