Rather than sit around and put up with Razia all day, Isa made the wise decision to get out of the Garden and treat herself. Things weren’t perfect but overall they were looking up, minus the impending violence. Isa had the strange thought that after today, there would be a chance she wouldn’t be able to easily go out by herself depending on how big the street war got. So she did what any sensible woman would do and went shopping.

It was frustrating sometimes, finding that she wanted for nothing and had all of her needs provided for. Isa worked hard for her shards, but she was increasingly aware of just how good she had it. Any money she had she stashed away for later, available to get anything she wanted. The problem was now that she had shelter, food, friends, and a community, everything else was just stuff.

That didn’t stop her from picking up a golden bracelet set with dark red gems, a new silk top, a new pair of sandals, and a wide brimmed hat made of a soft fabric that wouldn’t last long in the desert. She wore half her new purchases home, the rest stowed away in a wicker basket she brought with her. Briefly, she considered stopping for food, but Samantha was bound to have something in store for everyone, even if just a group order for someplace local.

All in all, her time away put Isa in a relatively good mood. She loved her home, but it wasn’t supposed to be a cage. It was too easy to sit in and enjoy the quiet and solitude and forget about the big, busy city outside. Isa wasn’t about to lose her edge. She wouldn’t let herself be complacent again. When she got back to the courtyard, the gate was wide open, and a lot of familiar faces hung out outside, talking quietly to one another.

Isa slowed to a stop. Some of them, including Jenna and Lynne, were crying, curled up on the ground and sobbing into each other’s arms. Next to them were a couple scuffed up gladiators who didn’t look happy either. Isa’s gut dropped. Rather than ask what happened she went into the main room, all but running until she saw the problem.

There was a dead man on the ground, face dark purple and locked forever in agony. It took Isa a second to recognize it as Rocco, the annoying charmer who was always there. Beside him was…Gods. She dropped her basket and covered her mouth. Samantha lay beside him covered in a blanket, face almost as purple as his. She wasn’t dead though. Her chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven hitches. Other than that, she was still.

“Isa,” Razia got her attention. Her eyes were red as well. Beside her was Quentin, holding her and looking grim. His eyes were locked on Samantha. “Samantha was poisoned,” she said, heading off Isa’s question. “Her and Rocco.”

“How did this happen?” Isa said, moving close. On the other side of Samantha was a middle aged man with his head against Samantha’s chest, listening in. The physician, she assumed.

“Someone tried to poison me,” said Quentin, turning to Isa. He looked about as miserable as he had when Maria died. A pang pierced Isa’s heart before she forced herself to calm down.

“We don’t know that,” said Razia.

Quentin shook his head. “It’s my favorite wine. You said she got it from my private collection. It could’ve been for you, but it was probably for me. Piro and Christophe know that I’m alive and they tried to take me out again.”

Isa’s mind raced. “How did they get in? This entire neighborhood is crawling with people at all times. Between the guards and the gladiators, no one should’ve been able to get into your house. Which means…” She saw by the look on Razia and Quentin’s faces that they’d arrived at the same conclusion. “Someone’s betrayed us.”

“We’re going to deal with it,” Razia said, fists clenching at her sides. “This will not go unpunished.”

“You know who it is,” Isa said, startled but the second she said it she knew it had to be true. “You knew we had a spy here and you did nothing and now Samantha is…Gods, is she going to die?”

The physician spoke up. “It’s going to be close,” he said in a gravelly voice. He stood up and dusted his knees off. “I’ve got some medicines that could help, but the poison did some damage. She may never be able to speak ever again.”

Tears pricked Isa’s eyes. This wasn’t fair. No one wanted to hurt Samantha. Who ever could? Only scum like Otho dared, and Razia had destroyed the Silk Lounge for it. Out of all of them, Samantha was the only one Isa truly believed didn’t have an ounce of cruelty to her. She was kind to everyone and enthusiastic about life. This wasn’t fair.

“We’ll take whatever you’ve got and will be mindful in our care for her,” Razia told the physician as Quentin got out his purse and pulled out a couple of purple aquilo pieces.

The physician pocketed them with a sharp nod. He pulled out several bottles from his bag and set them down beside Samantha. “The bottles are labeled with their use and dose. Come find me again if her condition worses, and be careful moving her. Have someone with her at all times and make sure you move her on occasion to avoid sores.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said, offering his hand. The physician looked at it, thought about it, then shook it before grabbing his bag and leaving out the garden gate.

Isa moved past them and knelt beside Samantha. Her eyes were closed and though it was troubled she seemed asleep for the moment. She didn’t like the sound of the rattle in her chest. The idea that she could die, or survive and be unable to speak…Isa wiped at her eyes, hating her weakness.

“You know who did this. What are your plans to deal with it?” Isa looked up, anger breaking through the grief.

It was Razia who answered. “We’re going to use her and then pay her back for this.”

She. There was only one person Isa could think of. It obviously wasn’t her, wasn’t Samantha, sure as hell wasn’t Lynne, probably not Jenna, Tenchi and Cullen were possibilities, but in the end she landed on… “Kelli,” Isa hissed.

The looks on their faces told her she was right. Isa stood and turned, ready to storm out where she had seen her and claw her eyes out. She made it all of three steps before a pair of very large arms wrapped around her middle and picked her up like she was nothing. Isa was slender but tall, and she immediately twisted and threw elbows trying to get Quentin off of her. She didn’t care about the gladiators in the distance watching. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you calm down,” Quentin hissed in her ear. “You think I don’t feel the same way? If Samantha dies, I will walk right up to her and wring the life out of her. Do you understand me?”

Razia moved in front of her, putting her hands on Isa’s arms. “We need to be smart about this,” she said. “We’ve got the start of a plan and we’re going to make use of her before we deal with her permanently. Trust us.”

Isa took a few long, deep breaths, willing her anger and hate to back the fuck down before it got her in trouble. She wanted nothing more than to go outside and unleash everything she had on the bitch. But Razia was right. They needed to be smart about it. She let herself go slack, and soon after Quentin put her back on the ground.

“But I want in on this,” she said, looking from one to the other. “I’m not stepping back and letting you two handle things while you tell me not to worry. Do you understand me?”

Quentin looked like he wanted to argue, but Razia met Isa’s eyes and considered her. As much as they’d been sniping at each other for the past week, there was a kinship there that wasn’t before. As much as Isa hated it, Razia had a better understanding of her now, and her weaknesses. But she also knew Isa’s conviction. In the end, she nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re in.”

“She’s in?” Quentin furrowed his brow.

“Yes, keep up,” Isa said, almost smiling. He just shrugged, looking helpless and unwilling to argue it.

“We need to move her first,” said Razia. “She can stay in my old room next door. We’re going to need a few people to move her.”

“I’ll handle this,” said Quentin, heading for outside where the others waited.

It left her and Razia alone, save for the few people standing guard. They weren’t in any hurry to get closer and looked distinctly uncomfortable after this turn of events. Isa leapt on the opportunity. “Okay. What’s your reason?”

Razia tore her attention away from Samantha’s unconscious form. She didn’t feign misunderstanding. “You’re a pain in the ass but you’ve been helpful the past while. You’re sharp and catch things we miss. You’re paranoid and don’t trust anything. And because I’m not going to try to keep you away.”

Isa’s face burned. “This is not about that. This has nothing to do with that and isn’t a factor. I’m not going to do anything. There’s nothing to be done, do you understand me? It’s a silly momentary issue that won’t last and isn’t worth talking about. This is about making sure the Garden is safe and that bitch gets what’s coming to her.”

Razia smiled sadly. “I know, Isa. But I thought it couldn’t hurt. We could use your help. At first it was just the two of us, but now there’s Jonas helping with the gladiators. We keep getting bigger, and there’s no one other than you I’d trust to help run things and have the best interests of the girls at heart.”

Of all the things said to her over the past week, endless jabs and teases over her one moment of weakness, this got to Isa more than all of them combined. Upon hearing genuine praise, something in her brain fluttered to a stop. She opened her mouth to argue on principle and found she couldn’t. Instead, she nodded, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Okay. I’ll make sure you two don’t fuck things up for the rest of us.”

“That’s exactly what we want from you.”

Before too much longer, Quentin came in with two of the less injured men and one wiry woman. Between them they carried a thick blanket. They set it on the floor next to Samantha before they transferred her onto it and then picked that up. Together, they carefully moved her out of the atrium and into the other house. Isa helped by grabbing the medicines and bringing them over. She didn’t know what was going to be done about the dead regular, but that was a problem for later.

Once they got Samantha situated, Isa administered the first dose of a thick white goop, getting a fingerful and rubbing it along the outside of her throat until it absorbed into her skin. Samantha swallowed with some great trouble but otherwise lay there, still with that awful rattle to her breathing. Isa couldn’t bring herself to stay in the room too long and waited for them on the lounger.

It took them a while. They had things to say to the people and probably a speech to give. Isa wondered if Kelli would run or stick around. She wondered if she’d be able to hold in her anger and not make an attempt on her life. She was in the middle of a graphic fantasy of whipping the bitch’s back raw when Quentin and Razia returned.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Quentin said with a sigh. He looked exhausted and carried himself with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Where are we doing this?” Isa asked.

“We usually do it right here,” said Razia, pointing to where Isa was sitting.

Isa looked down. It was built for two people. She looked back up, raising her eyebrow as if to say ‘really?’. “You don’t have a table and chairs like regular people? With all of your money?”

Quentin looked away, embarrassed. “Look, I spent nearly ten years living alone and part of me is still used to that. I’ve never needed a table and chairs. I’ll get some tomorrow, but for now, does it really matter? We could go anywhere and it’d work so long as there was privacy.”

“We could use the bedroom,” said Razia, looking at Isa with a barely restrained smile. “The bed’s big enough for all of us.”

“That’s true,” said Quentin, missing it entirely. Isa glared daggers at the islander. “Unless you have an objection?”

“No…no objections,” Isa sighed, motioning for them to get on with it. She followed them to his…His and Razia’s bedroom. Quentin sat down on the side of the bed. Razia joined him, leaning in close. Isa chose to remain standing, leaning against the nearby dresser. “What are we going to do about Kelli?”

“First,” said Quentin, “we should talk about the raid today.”

“Yes,” said Razia, sighing. “So long as Samantha’s okay for now, might as well. I have Lucy sitting in with her right now. So, what happened? You all look a little beat up but nothing too bad.”

The supposedly immortal man smiled grimly. “It was a smashing success. Only a handful of people have anything worse than a few scrapes. We hit them hard and got away with nearly four hundred aquilos. It was payday, just like you said it was. We caught the payroll before they could leave.”

Isa blinked. “Four hundred?”

“Fantastic,” said Razia. “That’ll pay the men off. Cicero will be happy with his share and the rest should cover what it cost to equip everyone and set this up. We’re breaking even on this one but I think we succeeded in bloodying their nose and pissing them off. They’ll have to pay attention after this. Tomorrow I’ll check in with Cicero about how his men did.”

“We got some decent information out of the payroll worm,” Quentin said. “A few other places to hit, including a few businesses and another flophouse or two.”

This was more than Isa expected, but that wasn’t a bad thing. This was serious. They weren’t just a brothel anymore. Things were only bound to get more dangerous. Her thoughts raced, thinking through as much as she could. “They’ll be on high alert after this,” she said. “Obviously. Do you have a list of possible targets?”

Razia nodded. “Yeah. I know a lot of their businesses. I don’t remember everyone working for them but I remember the operations well enough to disrupt them. We’ve got options.”

That was good. It wasn’t enough. “And what about retaliation?” Isa demanded. “He hit us, we hit him, he hit us, we hit him again. They know exactly where we are and they have someone on the inside.” Realization hit her. “It was Kelli who let men know when to attack the Garden. She picked a night Quentin wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Razia confirmed.

Isa’s anger spiked once more. Her eyes drifted towards the door, contemplating throwing caution to the wind and going for her. “So what about retaliation and Kelli?”

“Mr. Cicero’s got a lot of his forces on the defensive,” said Quentin, fiddling with the bedspread. “It’s tricky. Christophe directly commands men. Mr. Cicero holds together a lot of otherwise feuding groups together like glue by keeping them out of each other’s hair and making sure grudges are dealt with fairly. He has a lot of people answering to him, and defense is going to be a lot easier to deal with as we plan where to hit them hard.

“The Garden isn’t an easy target. It’s now headquarters for a lot of dangerous armed men and it’s in a rich neighborhood surrounded by private security and full of fairly rich people who would absolutely strike back if it affects them at all. We’re lucky they haven’t given us more trouble after the invasion, honestly. We think that they’re more likely to hit Cicero’s allies and underlings and try to undermine him and make the war unpopular to continue.”

Isa understood immediately. “The Warlords are focused on getting you two. They might hit Cicero’s places but you’re the goal. That’s one unified vision, versus a bunch of allied gangs. That’s tricky. How many people does Piro have? How much territory?”

“Hundreds of men,” said Razia with a wince. “A few hundred fighters, and plenty more people who pay tribute and can contribute resources to a war machine. Merchants, coppers in his pocket, and Piro has a few friends in high places who can help pull strings and flex some real power on the south side. They’re dangerous men, but they control about 70% of the criminal activity down south. They’ve got some serious rivals.”

“That’s what we need,” Isa said. “If we can get them to overextend coming after us and reach out to their rivals, maybe we can get them from both sides. Spitroast the motherfuckers.”

Quentin and Razia looked at each other, smiling slightly. They looked to have a silent conversation that Isa couldn’t help but find annoying. They were gross together now. “I’m really glad to have you aboard,” said Quentin. “But if you’re going to be with us, I need to know you’re committed. No more acting like you’re going to constantly leave, and no more holding my identity over my head.”

A pang of guilt stabbed her in the side. “I think right about now we could use a good Butcher to put an end to this,” she said. “Now, about Kelli…”

Quentin said, “We’re going to use her to hurt them back. We don’t have anything specific in mind yet, but we’re thinking about putting her on Samantha duty.”

Isa bared her teeth in a silent snarl at the very idea until she really thought about it. “You want to keep her busy and out of the way,” she said. “If Samantha dies under her, it’s an excuse to kill her. If she was going after you, she fucked up and she’ll be off balance. Okay. And then what?”

Quentin slowly slid his arm over Razia’s shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “We use her to get some information we want to Piro and company,” said Razia, getting comfortable. “That’s why we can’t do anything to her yet. We need to keep her around just long enough to make it count.”

She understood. Isa didn’t like it, but it made sense. As long as Kelli was around she was a risk, but keeping her around Samantha would possibly help. Her heart sank again at the mental image of Samantha’s purple face and uneven breathing.

“I’m going to go spend some time with Samantha,” Isa said. “You two look like you could use some private time anyway.” She couldn’t help but sneer a little. It just made Razia smile at her.

“You can come get us whenever you need us,” said Razia. “No matter the time.”

Quentin grunted. “You’re one of us now, I guess. You’re in the thick of it. Don’t worry, I won’t disappoint you.”

Isa stood. “You will, but I’ll try not to hold it against you.” She bit back the smile while Quentin shook his head at her in a way that could’ve been fondness. There was a warmth to his icy blue eyes that made Isa stop where she was for an embarrassingly long time. She looked away and nodded and headed out of the room. She went to Razia’s old room, where Lucy sat with Samantha.

Lucy was actively crying and holding Samantha’s hand. Isa joined her there, putting a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. The younger woman turned and buried herself in Isa’s middle and hugged her tight, sobbing. Tears of her own fell down Isa’s face seeing her.

Maybe this should’ve been the thing that made her run for good. She couldn’t. Isa was, as Quentin said, in the thick of it. She had too many ties to leave, too many reasons to stay, and too much hatred for Kelli to let things lie. “We’ll get the people who did this,” she whispered to Lucy and Samantha. “No matter what it takes.”