January
Lucy's Age: 18
"Happy birthday, Lucy. Do you want me to get the employees to sing to you while we're there tonight?"
I managed not to blush, mostly because I was getting used to Venice's sense of humor, but it was a close thing.
"No, thank you. I'd rather just have a quiet, peaceful dinner. Besides, this place you're taking me to is supposed to be pretty high-class. I doubt they'd go for that kind of thing."
Venice shrugged. "We'll never know unless we ask, but it's your birthday so if you want quiet, then quiet you'll get."
It was only a short, albeit bitingly cold, walk from our meet-up point to the restaurant, so almost before I knew it we'd arrived. Despite the frigid temperatures, Venice's only concession to the weather was the long, green coat that she promptly removed as soon as we were inside. Her pants were fairly conservative, black slacks like you'd see on a bank teller, but her top was as tight as usual and more low-cut even than was normal for her. She used it to her advantage, as she talked to the maître d'. I watched his eyes linger for an extra couple of heartbeats as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear.
Despite the impressive line of people still waiting to be seated, less than fifteen minutes later we were being led to our table. I looked back to check on the maître d and saw that he was following her with his eyes as we walked away.
I waited until we'd been seated to ask the question that was burning a hole in my mind. "So what exactly did you say to him?"
"Who? Oh, the maître d'? I told him it was your birthday, but that you'd be more than happy to give him a spanking if he'd be ever so kind as to get us a table off by ourselves."
This time she did make me blush. "I'm serious, Venice. It wasn't all just the clothes, was it?"
She shrugged. "It depends on the guy. He was apparently extra susceptible to my charms. I had a twenty ready to palm, but he didn't need it. It's mostly about providing the illusion that a small favor now on their part will result in an increased chance of a favor in return on your part at some future date. They don't actually expect to cash in, at least not most of them, but the illusion helps make everything go better."
Her answer was tossed off with complete nonchalance as she thumbed through the wine menu, but she flagged the waiter down less than ten seconds later and ordered two bottles of wine. I knew next to nothing about alcohol, but that seemed like a lot of wine for one person to drink.
My suspicion that something was wrong was confirmed when she handed our waiter a fifty-dollar bill and told him that there was another one waiting for him if he could get the wine here within the next three minutes.
Venice drummed her fingers on the elegant red table cloth. "Wine goes better with food, Lucy. Hurry and pick an appetizer, I want to order as soon as he gets back with my fun-juice."
Our waiter must have run as soon as he was out of sight, because he made it back less than a minute later. I was still looking through my menu, so Venice handed him the promised fifty and then took both bottles off of his hands.
"Fine, I'll just have to get drunk without the food."
Venice popped the cork on the first bottle and poured a generous amount of wine into one of the largest glasses I'd ever seen.
I decided what I wanted to eat and then set my menu down. Venice was already starting her second glass, hardly pausing to swirl it around the clear crystal of her glass before tossing it back.
"What's going on, Venice? This isn't normal for you."
It looked for a second like she was biting back a nasty retort, but then she sighed and looked around to confirm that we weren't close enough to anyone else to be overheard.
"Our psychotic little friend just torched a building."
It took me a second to realize who she was talking about. I felt myself go white as I realized that Geoffrey was the one who'd started the fire that had been all over the news for most of the day.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I suspected it was him, but when they released a partial list of people who were killed as a result of the fire an hour ago I knew my suspicions were right. Imastious assigned Geoffrey a target last week, but it wasn't just any target. This guy was a top-level arms dealer and he employs some of the best security around. Geoffrey and I went back and forth for a couple of days trying to come up with a plan of attack that would let us get in, kill the scumbag, and get back out without getting shot by his guards."
Venice started to pour herself a third glass, realized the bottle was empty, and popped open the second bottle.
"We couldn't come up with anything workable. I was starting to get worried because Imastious isn't the kind of guy to casually accept failure, but yesterday Geoffrey stopped by my apartment and told me that he had everything figured out."
The first half of the second bottle was now in her glass so she paused to drain the wine in one long draw.
"I was excited that he had a plan, right up until he told me that he didn't need my help. I should have known that he was up to something after that, but I couldn't get any kind of details out of him."
She looked down at the table. She'd been whispering so far, but the next sentence was so quiet that I almost couldn't make it out.
"He didn't tell me because he knew I wouldn't approve of a plan that involved waiting until our target was home and then torching the entire building."
I was still reeling, but had enough presence of mind to keep my voice down too. "He killed dozens of people just to take out one guy for Imastious? Are you really sure he's still worth saving, Venice?"
She refused to meet my gaze for nearly a minute, fiddling with her wine glass instead. When she finally looked up at me, I didn't see the raging drunk that I'd been expecting. Venice was stone-cold sober and the same worries I had were tearing her up too. It was bad enough for me, just knowing that I was enabling him in some small way. It would be even worse for her because of how much she loved him, or at least the man that he'd been.
"I think so."
"That's not a very strong response, not given what we're dealing with."
"I can lie to you if that's what you'd prefer, but the truth is I'm not certain right now. Each time Geoffrey does the scorched-earth bit on his emotions things get bad, but this is different. There was a pattern there before, but I refused to see it until now. He's getting worse. It's like the weight of all of the terrible things he's done makes it harder for him to come back to me each time and makes it easier for him to do even worse things."
Venice poured the rest of the second bottle into her glass, but she didn't drink it. "I know I'm not the most unbiased person right now, Lucy, but I still think he's worth saving. He didn't involve me in the operation because he was trying to spare me from doing something that bad. He could have started the fire at night, but he didn't. By nearly every measure I can think of, the fire would have been more effective at night, but he chose to do it during the day so that fewer people were around to be hurt. I know it may not seem like much, but there's still a core of goodness there that Imastious hasn't managed to completely corrupt yet."
I could feel a headache starting behind my eyes. I wanted to just put my head down on the table and wait for someone else to come deal with the mess that I'd jumped into feet first. Venice reached over and put a hand on my arm.
"I know I'm asking a lot, but I think this is my last chance. If we can't get him out this time I'm not sure that I'll get another opportunity. There are things you just can't come back from, and he's skirting around them already this time."
"What if he's already done something that he can't atone for, at least not all the way?"
"Then I guess I'll have to put him down and take my chances running away."
"Can you really do that?"
Venice shrugged, but I could tell that the motion cost her a lot more than she was willing to let on. "Not if he's expecting something like that, but maybe if I catch him by surprise. If he goes through another cycle like this and gets even worse before we manage to get him back to normal then I'll get him to trust me again. Once he's not expecting it, I'll stick a knife into him."
"That wasn't what I meant, and you know it."
Venice motioned with her head and I realized that the waiter's arrival meant that we were going to have to pause our conversation. The waiter introduced himself as Calum and flashed a very winning smile at each of us. Venice rattled off an order that included a bottle of vodka, I ordered with what I hoped was a bit more politeness, and then Calum disappeared back into the kitchen again in a flash of blond hair that was only a couple of shades darker than Venice's.
The silence between Venice and I stretched out for ten more minutes. Our appetizers arrived before Venice finally responded.
"I don't know, Lucy. I hope so though because if I can't then it means that I'm farther gone than I think I am. And not just where he is concerned."