“So, as I understand it, your kind can puppeteer the minds and bodies of the unclean?”
Lucia looked up from the carriage window into the face of Jedediah Cleft, the Scarlet Spindle. It had been a week since the day she first met him. He had personally paid a visit to Fallmire three nights previous to deliver a forged signet ring and discuss the promised payment.
It seemed Talia was not the only person with something she needed from the Marchesa. Cleft craved the demon’s expertise in dealing with the head of house Forteza.
Now, Lucia took carriage with him, readying herself to spin any deal he made with the woman to his benefit. She would, at the same time, play the tempter in service to Talia’s plan.
She was looking forward to it, but at the moment she had to contend with … well, the Spindle’s paranoid mind.
“No,” she said, wondering how mysterious she should keep her abilities. “It’s more complex than that.”
“More complex than holding the hearts of any mortal you desire in your grasp?”
He had, she surmised, been doing some reading since their last meeting. It was bad luck his sources were so poor.
“Yes, I suppose, but what does that even mean? Just that I can still someone’s heart, and in the next breath inflame it. That’s not exactly puppetry, though from the outside it might seem so. Your choices remain your own.”
“Well,” and she saw him reach into his coat, his fingers clutching something she couldn’t see. “You’ll see I’ve taken precautions against your influence.”
At this, Lucia actually laughed out loud. Then, at Cleft’s expression, she smirked. “Believe me, you’d need all the help you can get to ward me away.” A little fear in the man was not a bad thing, she mused.
“Anyway,” she said. “You’ve been a little cagey yourself. What exactly did you need me to do for you, once we meet with the Marchesa?”
At this, Cleft actually rolled his eyes. She sensed a calm descend on him, probably because his mind was moving back into familiar territory. “Dealing with her is always a nightmare,” he said. “She’s of the old guard, all royalist and what have you. And I get it! Back in her country, you need a firm hand to command the loyalty of a noble house. It’s hard enough to command respect among actual royalty, but in a city where gold is wielded as a deadly weapon by both noble and commoner, violence is what keeps people in line. Loyalty is cheap when dealing with thieves.”
He sighed. “But she holds the key to the commonwealth, to wit, the command of the finest professional muscle. She’s long since realized what I did, which is that with a little careful finesse you can make so much more money below the table than you ever could above it. But the Marchesa, she did not sell her old habits when she took ship to these isles. Once a pirate, always a pirate, or so the saying goes.”
Lucia shrugged, but her mind flew away at the mention of piracy. Her operation to discover if Talia had been a pirate had languished over the last several weeks due to a lack of any definitive clues, but she still liked to think of the woman as one. Particularly garbed in loose pirate clothing, a bit more open at the chest …
Cleft was still speaking, his spidery fingers whirring along with his words. “… which is absolutely correct, though I hate to admit it. Her bouncers, bodyguards, even small squads of thugs help keep my operations running smoothly. And the bitch knows it, if you’ll pardon my saying so.”
“She’s got you by the balls.” Lucia whistled.
“If I had any, yeah,” Cleft said. He winked. “The dead god did not bless me with that particular weakness. But to be plain, she knows how much she’s worth and she’s driving me out of business with her prices.”
“So,” Lucia said. “I’m here to make sure she’s not inclined to drive a harder bargain with you.”
“Yes. Or more specifically … ” Cleft trailed off as he reached below his seat, pulling out a long, black box without label or mark. Dramatically, as a magician on stage, he pulled off the lid, revealing a truly wicked-looking necklace. A ruby gleamed within, clutched possessively by silver thorns. A fine chain matched that delicate style.
Cleft closed the box again. “This is worth quite a lot, I assure you, but definitely not as much as she’s asking. But … well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and she likes to take her payment in kind. Perhaps you can inflate the value of this in her eyes.”
“No outright deception?”
“I mean, unless you should come up with something truly remarkable.”
“Ah.” Lucia frowned in thought. “Actually, I do have something. Let me wear it.”
“What?”
“The Marchesa fancies women, does she not?” Lucia had connected two very obvious dots in her mind. Not to mention, the cut of her dress was perfect to show off such a jewelry piece.
“She fancies practically everything that moves,” the Spindle said. “Well, almost everything.”
Lucia sensed an unspoken wound. A painful rejection, perhaps? She let it lie. “What if I gave myself as part of your price—for a single night alone? Not, you know, as part of our initial offer, but something that’s not quite on the table until you … convince me.”
“You’d be a really good salesman, you know.” Cleft whistled as he nodded in agreement. “And not just because of your … ehm, gifts.” He passed the box over to Lucia. She lifted the necklace out with two fingers, undid the clasp, and hung it about her neck. She posed it for the man.
“Yes,” he said, stroking his thin beard, then repeated, “yes, I think I like how it hangs on you. It’s certainly more striking on you than against the velvet of the box.”
Lucia closed the necklace clasp as she smirked at him.
“Oh … but your dearest wife is all right with this arrangement?” Cleft’s voice was a waver of uncertainty. “She will find out, you know. That woman’s information network is almost as extensive as my own.”
She suggested it, actually, Lucia almost said. She bit down on that revelation and said instead, “She’d be all right with it. So long as I can smooth things over with her afterward, we should be in the clear. I’ll be honest that it was my suggestion.”
“Oh, very good. Ah, this should be an exciting prospect!”
***
The den of thieves they walked into seemed of a piece with the Spindle’s world. Here were others who inhabited the secret places of the Black Harbor. It was not a little exciting.
These were closer to ‘her people’, anyway. As far as a succubus has any people she could call hers.
The tavern was named the Silver Serpent, and even before the sun had set a gloom drifted through it, small windows letting in little light, games of dice and cards and blood being played on tables in every corner. On the far end, the Marchesa held court as she languished in a chair far too cushioned for this establishment. Her throne, Lucia supposed.
Cleft and his lovely assistant for the evening made their way to her table.
A large, heavyset person—whose gender Lucia could not assess at a glance—interposed themself between the table and Cleft.
“Oh, I have business with your boss, you see,” Cleft began, before the bouncer put a thick finger on the Spindle’s chest. They pushed him back with only a single digit.
“What is this, Mistress Avarice?” the Spindle protested, in a single breath giving Forteza a name far more badass than she deserved. Lucia, for her part, was enjoying the show.
The Marchesa took this moment to look him over, setting down her hand of cards and sliding another coin into the small pile at the center of her table. Then, her eyes caught sight of Lucia, and the succubus felt a hunger stir there, drawn from a mere glance. This would be far too easy.
“Bolt, dearest, let him through.” The Marchesa’s fingers caressed a pistol beside her hand of cards. “If only so he could introduce his lovely,” she licked her lips at the word, “companion.”
Lucia reached out then, eyes sparking as she stoked the passion rising in the woman. My, but this was a whole bundle of pride, treachery, and lust, all burning beneath the surface. Her eyes did not leave Lucia’s … assets … as they sat down.
If the deal took longer than five whole minutes to arrange, Lucia would eat her own boot.
“So,” said Cleft, setting his hat down by his side.
Forteza raised a hand to silence him, her eyes turning to one of her companions. The man was looking at his hand of cards, then at the small amount of silver still stacked in front of him. Then, he rolled his eyes and tossed the cards in the center.
The Marchesa laughed, then pulled her winnings to herself. “There, now that I’ve won again, my dear Jedediah … or no. You’re a regular here, now. Should I start calling you Jed?”
The noise the Scarlet Spindle made indicated a strong aversion to this suggestion.
“Spindle, then? Your silly little uptown name? Oh, but I suppose I shouldn’t prick myself by accident,” she teased, her fingers still on her pistol. This woman was a piece of work, and Lucia was enjoying every minute watching her play.
“Enough grandstanding,” Cleft said. “I received your note, and I’m here to bargain.”
“Bargain? Whatever for? My increased prices are nothing out of the ordinary—you know how those dandies up the hill are cracking down on my people. My note merely indicated the rising cost of doing business here.”
“Of course, but I think there are certain considerations you’ve failed to take into account, especially concerning our relationship.”
Lucia was having too much fun watching Cleft wilt in front of this woman; she nearly forgot what she was there to do. Blinking, she felt a shimmering cruelty and gloaming pride rise within the woman—a dangerous combination. She dampened them slightly, keeping a steady hand on them. A little cruelty would still be in character, but she should be a bit more willing to deal.
“Yes,” Forteza said. “I suppose I’ll hear you out. But only if you introduce me.” And she shifted her gaze back, eyefucking the succubus once again.
“This is Lucia, one of my associates,” Cleft said.
“Oh, I do recognize you. You’re the Duke of Fallmire’s piece, aren’t you? We met the day she was confirmed in Parliament house.”
Lucia rankled at that description, but clearly this woman was used to seeing those beneath her as little more than slabs of meat. Fun to play with, but still food.
“Miss Lucia was interested in meeting you. I think she had a few propositions of her own. And I thought, well.” Cleft smiled, rallying his own pride. “I thought it an apt opportunity to give her a little experience with the way we do business here.”
“She looks quite experienced already,” Forteza murmured.
“In any case,” Cleft said, “I thought to give you next month’s payment early, once we’ve negotiated a fairer price for both of us. This piece should go a long way towards covering it.” He lifted the pendent from Lucia’s generous cleavage with two fingers.
“Hmm.” The Marchesa put on a bored air, but Lucia was not fooled. The succubus stoked the Lion’s greed just a little. That golden hunger—too much and she might not budge on her new offer, but just a little more should incite a little possessiveness.
“Let me see it,” she said. “Come closer.”
Lucia obliged, slinking over to a seat beside Forteza, presenting the necklace and everything else she had on offer. Dead god, if she could turn these same moves on Talia …
That way held only pain.
“Mmm.” The Marchesa lifted the thorny necklace with her fingers. “Beautiful enough.” This woman wanted the necklace, Lucia sensed clearly—along with everything the necklace was hanging upon.
“In that light,” Cleft pulled out a tiny notebook from his front pocket, “I was thinking a monthly fee of seventeen thousand should suffice to cover your additional expenses going forward—”
“Nothing less than twenty.” Her eyes never left the necklace, nor what lay beneath it. She let it fall against Lucia’s chest, then turned eyes back to Cleft. “And this piece should be sufficient to pay for half, if my eyes are not mistaking its true value.”
Ten thousand pounds gulden? Lucia shivered pleasantly. It felt good to wear such wealth around her neck.
Cleft was examining one of the playing cards left on the table. It was of the rose suit. “Seventeen-fifty is what I am prepared to give, but not a farthing more.”
“You’re joking,” Forteza said. She lounged back in her throne, nodding to a few guards standing at attention at her side. “Escort my guests out, and don’t bother to be delicate.”
“Hold on,” said Lucia. Forteza’s eyes found hers again, the hunger in them making a meal on its own for the succubus. She stood up, and the Marchesa raised her hand to stay her goons. Lucia walked over to Cleft, pulling him from his seat and drawing him away to a private alcove.
“This is where we pretend to argue, yes?” Lucia was careful not to raise her voice above a whisper.
“No! Ridiculous,” Cleft said a little louder, getting right into character. “You belong to the Duke, not—”
“Don’t be possessive,” said Lucia, then in a lower voice, “She’s ready to give you everything you want. You can push a little bit.”
“Go back to the table, I’ll milk things a bit more,” Cleft said in a low voice. Lucia turned back and glided to her original seat—not beside Forteza, but teasing her all the same with every slink of her dress.
Cleft sighed dramatically as he put his weight on a wooden crossbeam. Then, he growled and stomped back to his spot.
“Fine,” he spat. “I am willing to give her to you for one night, with her consent.”
“Oho?” the Marchesa said. “And how much do you think that would be worth, for me?”
“Seventeen thousand and fifty pounds gulden, with this month’s payment partially covered by the jewelry piece—at ten thousand pounds gulden—and her night with you covering an additional two thousand.”
Forteza looked down at her hand of cards, still unrevealed. She fingered one of them, then flipped it over.
Ace of roses. Her eyes met Lucia’s.
“One thousand five hundred for the night, and you have a deal.”
“Then let us shake on it.” Cleft rose and held out his hand.
Forteza drew her pistol in half a heartbeat, training it on Cleft. “No funny business with the girl. Or I will kill you myself.”
Cleft blinked, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. “Y-yes, of course. Nothing untoward.”
The Marchesa tittered and holstered her pistol. “Well, I expect it should be somewhat untoward. But you know exactly what I mean, Jed.”
The Lion took Cleft’s hand and shook it firmly.