Tokens
More people filled the bar when Frankie trailed in behind Mambo. Her restaurant staff was there minus Joey and in addition there were Sebastian, Vanessa and Derek. Everyone turned to look at her as she came out.
Vanessa’s black hair was pulled up and pinned with little golden combs to keep it off her neck. She wore cut-off shorts and a white tank top with some equestrian logo stretched over the bust. She rushed Frankie and threw her arms around her for a fierce hug.
“Frankieeee!” she let out her happy cry as she crashed into her, almost knocking her off her feet.
“Stop Tiggering her, Vanny.” Derek snickered. He looked as pretty as Frankie remembered from the wake. From the product in his hair down to the sharp leather shoes, he looked polished, like he wanted to impress someone.
Vanessa giggled and kissed her soundly on the cheek. “Sorry.” She didn’t look apologetic as she stepped away. Frankie felt like she’d been pounced. It was actually a pleasant sensation, not being constantly afraid of hurting someone.
“Princess,” Mambo drawled as he wandered past them. “Exuberant as ever.”
“Mambo,” Vanessa huffed and put herself between Frankie and the little man. “What are you doing to our Frankie? I heard you did that chin thing to her. That is mean.”
“A quick education. I didn’t put those marks on her fucking face.”
“Language, Mambo!” Vanessa scolded.
Mambo smirked and pressed his fist to his chest. “Mercy. We need to go and speak with your Grammy.” To Frankie, he said, “Here.” He dug in his pocket and set something wrapped in a red kerchief on the bar.
She didn’t touch it until he snorted. The derision made her pull the bundle closer. Inside was a beautiful dagger. The antique weapon had a jeweled handle and the simple blade was honed to a fine edge. It vibrated so hard in her fingers, she had to set it down. Unlike the cold knives, this one was different. It sang. It sounded sweet, as though it too shared blood with her.
He met her gaze, his expression stone and steel as he gave a small nod. “I always have your back.” He turned and stalked out of the room taking the work crew with him.
They left their tokens on the bar on the way out. They were wood and stone, carved in variations of men riding motorcycles, except for Chaze. He placed the plastic toy and grinned down at her meaningfully. “Welton. I swear by the blood of my father and my father’s father, to watch over and protect you.” The words were a darkly snarled oath that did not match the ridiculous toy.
“Chaze, that’s cheating,” Vanessa called after him. “That’s from Lion King. That’s a plastic hyena. You jerk face.” But Chaze only cackled an ugly, raucous laugh as he sauntered out.
Sebastian chuckled and shook his head from where he remained working on installing the last shelf. He looked remarkably improved from the wake. His beard was trimmed, his hair braided in a long tail down his back. The haunted look no longer filled his green gaze. He too wore the jacket with matching patch across the broad shoulders.
Fallen Angels.
“What in the world?” Frankie whispered, and she picked up the little toy. It sparked hot at her touch and made her fingers tingle with the strength infused energies. Like the golden knight, she could feel the care and time spent investing on the little figurine. Silly as it was. “Have to admit, they have the same eyes,” she said. And teeth, she didn’t say.
“You have no idea,” Sebastian answered, shaking his head.
She opened her mouth to ask but then closed it. spirit-beast hyena? Could they even do that? Her skin prickled. Oh yes, they could. Thank God, he was on her side.
Sebastian smiled at her. “He’s good people.” When he got the shelf fastened, he walked over to her and set a box on the bar. “I should catch up with them. I’m really sorry for how I behaved at Amy’s celebration of life. It won’t happen again.” He inclined his head and pressed his knuckles to his chest. “I’m with you, Welton. For anything.”
He left before she could open the box to see what he’d given her. Inside she found a small figurine of a Harley, gleaming chrome and black with traditional orange accents.
“Well, since it’s gift-giving time, here is mine.” Juan chuckled and set his own small box down before her, tapping the top of it.
Inside was a colorful Aztec-style pyramid with an intricate inlay of turquoise and coral. She opened her mouth to protest but Juan shook his head.
“Just put it up by the Patron once we get these shelves stocked. It’ll be fine.” He winked and pointed from the token to Frankie and then laid his fist to his chest with a cheerful smile.
Sophia smiled warmly at her. “Mine next.” She set the box before her. Frankie found a bright pink horse figurine tacked in lighter pink war armor. The chess piece even had twinkling pink gems for eyes. It looked like something Barbie might ride into battle.
Juan teased, “Why does yours look like My Little Pony?”
“Sh’up you,” Sophia answered and poked at his side until he drew back. “Pink is the only color that matters.”
Vivianne watched all of this with a tight-jawed expression. She didn’t offer any response or a token and she didn’t make any sort of excuse for it. Instead, she regarded Frankie as though daring her to comment.
What the fuck was Frankie supposed to do? The etiquette for this particular situation went right over her head. Should it matter? Frankie didn’t care but Sophia and Juan acted as though they expected Frankie to call the woman out on it.
Oliver was too busy talking to Vanessa, but it only took a glance for Frankie to see how uncomfortable the young woman was.
“Is that a new necklace?” Oliver asked quietly, reaching out to try to touch it. There was something unsavory about the way he leaned in close to the woman. The hungry look in his eyes and the way he wet his lips made Frankie’s jaw tighten.
“This was a gift from Amy.” Vanessa’s smile looked adorable with the dimples she shared with her brother. She put a hand over the necklace, which also covered her cleavage.
There was an awkward moment while Oliver stared at Vanessa like his black eyes wanted to consume her. His fingers traced over the back of her hand and Vanessa’s beautiful smile melted away.
Frankie knew that sensation all too well. It had been her constant reminder of her danger her whole life before coming here.
“It’s almost as lovely as you are, Vanny,” Oliver whispered, his smile more of a leer.
Derek interrupted his friend. “Hey, man. Are you going to the game next weekend?” He sounded so cheerful, as though he had not noticed his sister looked as though she wanted to vomit everywhere.
Frankie maneuvered the girl out of grope range and put her larger body between them. Vanessa tucked swiftly against her side. Her warm face pressed into her shoulder. A shiver of revulsion ran through the girl.
“Thank you,” Vanessa whispered when Derek had properly distracted his friend with sports.
“Yeah, been there. Nails on chalkboard, right?” Frankie guessed.
“Yeah.” Vanessa licked her lips, looking uncomfortable. “How did you—?” She blinked and squinted at her, looking into her eyes. But Frankie kept up her wall. This wasn’t the time or place for revelations.
“I used to feel like that with everyone who tried to touch me,” Frankie explained.
The girl let out a thoughtful murmur of sympathy and continued to regard Frankie and her barrier before finally giving up. Her smile returned with force. “Okay. Now you have my token, okay? Open it.” She thrust the little box at Frankie.
Inside, she found a cut-crystal figurine of a horse rearing up on hind legs. The facets glinted amber and gold in the light. When her fingers brushed against it she felt its warmth spread through her hand and along her palm. “Wow, this is amazing.”
Vanessa squeezed her in a tight hug. “Anything for you, sis,” she said brightly and offered a wink. “I’m so happy. We should go horseback riding soon, okay?”
“I don’t know how to ride.” At Vanessa’s expression of shock, she sighed. “I know. I was raised by savages.”
“But you need to learn. Okay? Please? Do you want to learn English or Western? Christopher, Alexander and I ride English, Derek and Kenneth ride Western because they think it’s so cool.”
“It is cool,” Derek shouted back and grinned over his shoulder. “And don’t forget you used to be into Western riding too, Miss Barrel Racer.”
“I kind of did.” Vanessa giggled to Frankie. “But it was a long time ago,” she called back at her brother, sticking out her tongue.
“You always looked sexy in the rodeo queen outfit,” Oliver said.
Vanessa’s smile was kind. “Thank you, Oli.” A blush warmed her cheeks as she nibbled against her lower lip. She ducked her attention away from the man’s hungry eyes.
Frankie was considering Derek, though. The young man cheerfully distracted his friend from his sister without making it seem awkward or obvious. Not discouraging him, but covertly angling the other man away. In his sharp, stylish clothes he looked as far from a cowboy as she could have imagined.
“He was state champion in high school. Oh, Christopher is going to be so jealous,” Vanessa teased and nudged Frankie, who found herself smiling back.
“Actually, I’m thinking of my friend in New York who has been hassling me for pictures of cowboys. She wants the traditional chaps and hat though.”
“And nothing else?” Vanessa asked innocently, eyes wide, her playful smile tugging her dimples deeper.
Frankie covered her eyes as she laughed. “Vanessa. Jeans at the very least.”
“And a big belt buckle?” Derek asked, grinning. Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he playfully swaggered back to the bar. “Vanny, what are you saying?”
“Frankie wants nudie pictures of you to send to her friend.”
“Frankie,” Derek playfully scolded. “I don’t send pictures of my junk to strangers.”
“Yes, but he will send it to anyone he knows,” Vanessa teased, using Frankie as a shield against her brother. She squealed when he came forward to get to her.
“All right you two.” Frankie started to edge away and found Oliver right there trying to wedge in close to Vanessa. His greedy eyes were focused on the beautiful woman.
“We should get going before I get talked into beefcake pictures. Here, Frankie.” Derek winked at her, blushing furiously. He offered the box matching the one his sister had given her.
“Oh, there will be beefcake pictures,” Vanessa whispered to Frankie. “You are selfish, Derek. Think of the joy you would be bringing someone.”
“Some stranger in New York? What’s in it for me?”
“Maybe she’s cute.”
“Oh, she’s cute all right,” Frankie assured Derek, which only fueled the teasing between sister and brother. They continued their playful banter while Frankie opened the box.
Inside was a hand carved, wooden horse. It was simple but beautiful, and the detailing every bit a Western horse. The strangest sensation prickled along her neck, and she could have sworn she heard Jen’s bright, clear laughter.
She jerked up her head and glanced at the door, half expecting her friend to come waltzing in. Derek did the same thing, twisting away as he looked toward the door as though he heard her, too.
“Derek?” Vanessa asked worriedly when her brother didn’t continue their banter but stared at the door.
“S-sorry,” he stammered, blushing even darker.
“Seriously, Derek, would you let me take a picture of you for my friend?” Frankie asked.
“This is crazy,” Oliver snorted but he was glaring at Frankie. “Derek, you don’t want to get involved with—”
“Sure, Frankie,” Derek said, ignoring his friend’s choked, furious protests. Then he ducked his head. “And you’ll show me a picture of her?”
“Derek.” Oliver’s glare darkened, but Frankie couldn’t fathom why.
“Oh, Oli, knock it off.” Vanessa’s tone was gentle but Oliver winced like she’d snapped at him.
Oliver’s black eyes narrowed as he looked from Derek to Vanessa, his handsome features tightening. “What did you say to me?” he asked Vanessa but then sliced a hand through the air. “You weren’t like this before, Vanny.” He shot Frankie a darker, accusing look. “You’re poisoning them all.”
“Oliver.” Derek’s soothing tone was like Vanessa’s but the manager wasn’t having any part of it.
“Don’t say she’s not. Tommy-Tom was right, she should get her ass back to New York and leave things to those who know what the fuck is going on.” Oliver glared around him and nodded to Vivianne before stomping out of the bar.
Derek looked torn between his friend and staying for the exchange of pictures. With obvious reluctance, he sighed. “I need to make sure he’s all right. Pictures later, Frankie.” Lightly he pressed knuckles to chest and then whirled and jogged out of the bar after Oliver.
“So close,” Vanessa groaned and then jerked a look at Frankie. “Don’t you dare think about leaving us.” She turned to glare at Vivianne. “And you should think about what you’re doing. There’s going to be a reckoning. What side of that do you want to be on?”
Vivianne returned the glare, looking smug. “I’m going to be on the winning side, of course.”
“Not at the rate you’re going,” Vanessa said, sounding like her mother. “Anyway, I have work.” She hugged Frankie tightly and kissed her cheek. “Come by Three Compasses, okay? I work until closing, we have the best shrimp pasta you’ll ever eat.”
“I can beat that pasta,” Juan teased her.
“No, you can’t,” Vanessa demurred and curtsied before pressing her knuckles over her heart. Then she went bounding out into the heat of the afternoon.
That left the four of them—Sophia, Juan, Vivianne and herself.
“I hope you know what you’re going to do if Oliver doesn’t bother showing back up,” Vivianne said, voice tart.
Frankie did know. She was going to speed dial Jen and Beth and make them an offer neither could refuse. “Oh, I have a plan.” When she smiled at Vivianne, the assistant manager’s confidence wavered. Yes, Beth and Jen would make the work environment much more enjoyable. She had a huge house that could fit them all until they got settled. Again, she heard the phantom echo of Jen’s delighted laughter.
Oh, yes. Frankie had a plan.
“Let’s just finish getting this place in order before we worry about it, huh? Don’t give her a reason to fire you, Viv,” Juan suggested, as though he could read Frankie’s thoughts.
Viviane’s mouth fell open, and she whispered, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, but I do dare,” Frankie replied. “You aren’t obligated to stay. If you think I need your charming personality today or any day, you’re wrong.” She motioned to the door. “That’s the way out. If you want to stay and be part of my team, you’re welcome to, but the attitude has got to go. I have work to do.”
“I’ve got work too,” Juan said. “Viv, you want to help in the kitchen or are you going to go?”
Vivianne looked like she might get sick. Clearly, she assumed her job was secure and she could do and say anything she pleased. Including insult her boss repeatedly. “I…yes, I want to stay and help. Kitchen sounds great.”
Sophia nodded and agreed, “I’m staying too. Maybe get these shelves filled and you can place tokens. Amy used to keep hers between the bottles.” She glanced after Vivianne with a sigh. “Just give her some time to adjust. Change has never been easy for her.”
Frankie nodded. “This isn’t easy for me either.” She swept a hand at the tokens standing in neat formation on the bar, ready to be tucked away.
She just started exploring the boxes of various alcohols when Barbara and Anthony showed up.
“He wasn’t kidding when he said he had the perfect mirror,” Anthony said as he regarded the new fixture. He carried a box in both arms and hefted it onto the end of the bar.
“We’re bringing a little something special for your whiskey collection since you lost yours,” Barbara said.
“Oh, I can’t accept that,” Frankie said, as Anthony started removing various bottles from the box. “Of course, you bring the scotch.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “Don’t waste your Welton stubbornness on us. It won’t do you any good.” Anthony was as calm and unflappable as Frankie remembered him from the wake.
“This is so awkward. You’ve done so much for me already.”
“Not nearly as much as you’ve done for us,” Barbara said firmly. Her tone suggested she knew the danger Christopher had been in the night before.
“Just smile and say ‘thank you’,” Anthony suggested.
“Thank you,” Frankie whispered, throat tight.
“We wanted to make sure you have our tokens as well,” Barbara said, pulling a pair of figurines from the box. Carved in pale wood, they were about the height of a pint glass. King and Queen, crowned and robed.
She reached out to touch them. The polished surface was smooth and, deeper, she sensed the steady pulse from them like she sensed with the dagger Mambo gifted her with.
“We’ve been waiting a long time for you to have these,” Barbara said and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Welcome home, Lady Welton.”
Frankie returned the hug without her usual hesitation. “They are beautiful.”
King and Queen. Leaders. Was that why Mambo was calling Vanessa Princess? Dozens of questions tangled in her throat but she couldn’t ask here while she was still in hiding.
She set the king and queen at the center of the bar, in the middle of the new pieces, and felt everything click neatly into place. Right. Chess. Amy’s desire to always play the game with Frankie made more sense in this context. Learning to see moves ahead.
“We’ll explain later,” Anthony promised in a whisper as he took his turn at giving a tight hug.
“Hate to drop these things and leave but no rest for the wicked.” Barbara put her fist to her chest, so respectful, her eyes gleaming with emotion.
Anthony echoed the motion. “We will answer all the questions you have, Frankie. Call us if you need anything while you’re setting up. Sophia. Juan. Viv,” he called back to the kitchen. Arm in arm, the pair turned and departed, and there was no denying the regal elegance. They really were the king and queen.