Hell's Ten

This is part 4 in a series. Part 3 is available here. However, if you'd like to read in chronological order (which I highly suggest!), the story starts here, with a man named Kace Lowry.

. . . Marko was racking his brains, trying to find something to say to make things right, when the door opened. Jules came wearily towards them, with Aria trailing behind. He still wore the black and white uniform of a Duchess waiter, the dark smudges under his eyes betraying that he had been up all night. He dropped heavily into a chair. Aria joined them too, leaning against the bar a few paces from where the others sat.

“We seem to have chosen the same place tonight,” Marko said with a laugh, eager to make conversation. “Long shift?” Jules nodded, and when Marko offered him a drink he did not refuse. He had told himself he would go straight home after work, like he always told himself, but after meeting Aria outside the Duchess his feet had somehow found their way to a pub after all. He had to save his money, the voice in his head always nagged, but it was hard to resist a cheap drink after a night of scraping and bowing to the Duchess’s guests, who came and went through the hotel doors in a never-ending stream of silk and fur.

“Kace Lowry stopped by the Duchess tonight,” he remarked, as he accepted Marko's offer.

Toby scowled at the name and muttered something under his breath.

“Kace? The second son of old Lowry, isn’t it?” Marko asked. “I thought he never went to the Duchess.”

“Almost never.” Jules nodded. “That’s why it was strange. He was talking to Rafi.”

“Rafi?” Now Toby was listening, and Marko grabbed his arm.

“He’s the buyer! Rafi must have sold your goods to Lowry!”

“What goods?” Unnoticed by the others, Aria had sidled up and leaned in to listen.

“It’s not safe to talk,” Toby muttered quickly in her ear.

“Was your business at Rafi’s docks?” she asked carelessly, as understanding flickered across her face.

“Yes.”

“I saw a group of Lowry’s men down there last night about ten.” Her voice remained low and conversational.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, one of them was Lowry’s, I’ve seen him before.”

“That’s dirty of Rafi!” Marko exclaimed. “He could have saved the goods for you instead of turning around and handing them to a man who wants you dead.”

Toby pursed his lips and shook his head wearily. “No, it’s just his job. I don’t blame him. He couldn’t have kept them on his hands any longer, not with the cops breathing down his neck like they were. Lowry’ll probably sell them to the next buyer anyway, I doubt he’ll go after us.”

They fell silent, each pursuing his own thoughts. Aria reached down to adjust one of her boots. From across the bar, a patron came swaying towards them, clearly having had a bit too much to drink. Aria’s grey eyes latched onto him with an icy stare even before he came right up to her, leaning against the bar, too close for comfort.

“Ay, you’re a pretty girl,” he slurred, although Aria’s appearance could hardly be called pretty tonight. Murderous, might have been a better word. Or I've been up too long to deal with this kind of bullshit.

“I like your eyes," the man drawled. "How about we get a drink?”

“No.” Aria had turned her body to face him, and Jules could feel the anger crackling just below her skin. He put down his glass and half stood, feeling as if he should do something, step in front of her maybe, send the man packing. But if he was honest, he knew she was better equipped to send someone packing than he was.

“Come on.” The man grinned. “It’ll be fun.” He reached for her elbow to steer her away from the others. Aria brought her boot down on the man’s ankle, and Jules winced at the sound, as the man yelped in pain and staggered backwards. Aria advanced on him, something almost like eagerness in her quick movements.

Toby got to his feet and stepped towards them. “Shove off,” he growled at the man and nudged Aria’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and save the trouble for another night. It’s late.”

Luckily, Aria agreed with him on this. She wasn’t looking for a fight, she just needed to be sure the man was properly scared. No one touched her without her permission. Better a fight than people losing their respect. The four of them filed silently out the door, leaving the man to stumble into a corner, cursing wretchedly under his breath.

They parted ways on the corner outside, to go home and sleep away the remaining hours of the early morning. Toby would go to his small apartment, taking back alleys to avoid the coppers who had half a dozen warrants out for him. Marko would call one of the small, two-wheeled cabs to take him home, knowing his expensive coat made him too much of a target to walk. Jules would go to his boarding room and carefully stow away his night’s pay in the closely knotted handkerchief under his pillow, and Aria—well, Aria would go wherever she always went when she wasn’t working. No one ever knew exactly where that was or when she’d turn up next. Jules couldn’t help thinking that things were usually more exciting when she did turn up.