A Game of Chess, Ch. 19 -- PG-13

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librarian_7
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A Game of Chess, Ch. 19 -- PG-13

Post by librarian_7 »

With thanks to Lilly for some lovely beta work! The next move in the game…

A Game of Chess

Chapter 19

The long summer twilight had arrived at last, veiling the harsh lines of the city with a dusky softness. Perched atop a building, Josef patiently watched the street below, with particular interest on the townhouse opposite him. The lamplighter had not yet come, and the sidewalks were falling into shadow. At this hour, most people with proper business in this quiet neighborhood were contentedly sitting down to their evening repast. Josef quirked his mouth into a smile. If the neighbors only knew the sort of feasts Rose Thorne offered her guests.

So far, he hadn't seen any suspicious looking characters in the street, although he doubted that Patrick Thornton would be so careless as to meet him without bodyguards. He supposed it was possible Thornton was banking on his mother for protection; not a bad choice, all in all, taking the circumstances into consideration.

The street was growing darker, and in the distance Josef could see the gas lamps springing one by one to life, as the old man tasked with lighting them worked his way along the far side of the street. A movement at the corner caught his eye, and Josef focused in that direction, seeing a large man in workingman's clothes lounge nonchalantly against the wall, deep in the shadows. Josef supposed the fellow thought himself well hidden under the cover of darkness. Seeing the same thing happen at the opposite end of the block, Josef surmised that Thornton had kept his mother’s secret well. His men knew nothing of the danger they might be facing.

He'd seen enough. It was time to put the cat amongst the pigeons. And he was feeling very feline this evening. He backed away from the edge, careful not to draw attention to his movements, and stood up slowly in the shadow of the wooden rooftop water tank, considering his next move. He thought it might be amusing to appear at Rose Thorne’s front door without either of the guards on the street seeing his approach. He’d scouted the alleyways around the building before choosing his vantage point; now it was a simple matter to drop from the roof of four-story house to a spot hidden from observation. He'd been doing things like it for centuries, but it was still a thrill to fall so quickly from such a height. As his feet touched the dirty irregular paving stones of the alley, he went into a crouch to cushion the shock of impact, touching the spread fingertips of his left hand to the ground for balance. It occurred to him that the habits of his youth were still with him. He missed the days when he would have had a sword in his hand ready for use. Coming out of his crouch, he brushed his left hand against the outer seam of his trousers, leaving a dusty smear. Adjusting his dark cloth cap to a jauntier angle, he came out of the mouth of the alley, and moved across the street quickly enough that he knew no human eyes would be able to track him.

A soft glow emanated from every window at the front of Rose’s birdcage, but the house was oddly silent. Josef could only make out a few heartbeats within. Either Rose expected the meeting to end in trouble, or Patrick had wanted to make sure of their privacy. Josef sniffed the air. He could catch faint whiffs of the distinctive aroma of a number of vampires, most of them unknown to him, but these were all old trails. Clients coming in and out of the establishment, on other nights. Only Rose’s scent was fresh.

That was good. That had been agreed on.

Before he could knock on the door, it was thrown wide open, Quince looming in the entrance looking more impassive than usual, which Josef would have thought impossible.

“Evening, Quince.” Josef nodded to him.

“Mr. Fitz. Madame Thorne requests that before you go up to her, you step over to the parlor for some refreshment.” He stepped aside so that Josef could enter, but Josef noticed that the birdcage guard subtly positioned himself so that the natural route for an entering guest would be toward the common room where the swallows normally congregated, and away from the staircase leading up to Rose’s office. He didn’t argue with Quince, but merely walked in, removing his cap, and placing it on the empty hall tree carelessly.

“Quiet tonight,” he remarked.

“Miz Thorne thought it was for the best.”

“She thinks of all the details, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, sir, that she does.” Quince wasn’t giving out much more than that, not that Josef had expected anything else.

There was only one young woman waiting in the parlor, the pretty one with light brown hair, what was her name? The faces, and the blood, tended to blend together in his mind, with so many to remember. But she was recent, and he ought to recall. Ah, yes. “Flora, you’re looking lovely tonight.”

She blushed, making her even prettier, to his mind. “Thank you, Mr. Fitzgerald,” she said, in an almost oddly formal tone, rising from the settee where she’d been so fetchingly posed. The light, lacey dress she wore seemed more suitable for a cotillion than a house of paid blood exchange. Still, he couldn’t argue that the bare shoulders above the creamy bodice were anything but enticing. And her gloves ended, coyly enough, just at her wrists. “Madame Rose hoped I would suit you this evening.”

Josef made a slight bow in her direction. “Madame Rose has exquisite taste, my dear. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He didn’t really need to focus much attention to passing light pleasantries with the girl, and concentrated instead on listening to her heart, taking in all the information the smell of her body and blood could provide. Everything seemed normal, although perhaps she was a trifle excited at the prospect of feeding him. He’d run across drugged swallows before, clumsy attempts at poisoning the well, as it were. And he was far too old to fall prey to such stupidity. Not that he thought Rose Thorne had any reason to attack him, but then again, he was about to enter into some delicate negotiations with her son, and he had to consider that she might wish to hedge her bet by whatever means she had at her disposal.

He seated himself, inviting the girl to his lap. “Did you have a good dinner, Flora?”
She was careful, spreading her skirts artfully as she sat, without a trace of fear or nervousness. “Madame Rose always feeds us well,” she replied, “although she says it’s not good to eat heavily before we—serve. And we’re always fed, after.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Do you prefer wrist, or throat, sir?” He could feel her shift, sense her anticipation.

“Depends on my mood, Flora,” he said, running a hand down the length of her arm. Her scent was enticing, and her arousal lent a layer of appeal to her other attractions. Josef smiled a little to himself. He did love a good, uncomplicated swallow. One who not only knew her business, but honestly enjoyed the process. He suspected she’d provide a good romp in the sheets, as well, if he requested it. Not this time, however. He had business to attend to, and it wouldn’t do to keep Patrick Thornton and his loving mama waiting. “Another time, Flora, we’ll spend a good long time together, and I’ll bite you somewhere you’ve never been bitten before. But tonight, my sweet, I think I’ll take a wrist.”

If Flora was at all disappointed, she didn’t let it show. “Why, Mr. Fitz, you’re going to make me blush,” she said, raising her wrist to his mouth. “But I’ll take your promise for another time.”

When he lifted his lips from her skin, her eyes were shining, and she had that sated look he liked to see. It was true, he’d have preferred a girl without quite so many fang marks in the fine grain of her skin, but she made a tolerable meal, all the same. He gave her a lavish tip, a five dollar gold piece, and prepared to take his leave. A thought struck him, and he turned back to the girl, who half-sat, half-lay on the divan.

“Flora?” he asked, “Did Madame Thorne give you any instructions for—after?”

The swallow smiled, drowsily. “She said Cook would leave me a tray.”

Concentrating on Flora, Josef heard the rustle of Rose’s skirts only as she entered the parlor. “Fitz, I’m surprised at you,” she chided, crossing over to help Flora stand, and draping a casual arm around the girl’s neck. “Why would you suspect me of –duplicity?”

Josef tensed. He realized, even if Flora seemed insensible of it, that in that position, Rose could snap the girl’s neck in an instant. A rise of temper flared in him. There was no need to waste a perfectly good swallow over some fiddling business deal. Money was important, but this girl’s lifeblood was still warm on his lips. He didn’t care to see her mistreated. Keeping his face carefully impassive, he shrugged. “Now what makes you think that, Rose?”

She took hold of Flora’s chin, a firm grasp the girl had no hope of escaping. Flora’s eyes went wide, realizing at last that she was in danger. She looked at Josef with an unspoken plea. “Why, I don’t know, Fitz. Perhaps I’m just naturally suspicious.”

“Then we are a good pair, my dear. Perhaps you’ll put down that…human…you’re playing with, and come welcome me to your house?” For Flora’s sake, he couldn’t afford even to seem concerned about her fate. He buffed his nails absently against the lapel of his coat, examining them as though they had taken on a sudden, great importance.

Rose laughed, and turned her grip on Flora’s chin to a caress. “Really, Fitz,” she said. “You know you’re always welcome here.” She cast a fond look down at the swallow she’d been ready to kill, to make a point. “And I may be many things, but I am never wasteful. Flora, dear, perhaps you should run on and see what Esther has left you in the kitchen. I smelled sugar cookies, earlier, I believe.”

Flora executed a shaky curtsey. “Madame Rose, Mr. Fitz.”

Josef caught her eye. “I’ll see you again, Flora.”

Rose watched her go, only turning back to Josef when the pocket door at the end of the parlor slid closed. “Well,” she said, cocking her head to one side, “if the preliminaries are done, perhaps you’d care to come up to my office? Patrick has been waiting very patiently.”
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Re: A Game of Chess, Ch. 19 -- PG-13

Post by jen »

Lucky

This was wonderful! I had forgotten the delightful touch of giving another name to those who feed vampires in this other time. Swallows.

And so the dance continues.

Rose Thorne scares me. She is, perhaps, more like Josef than either of them would like to admit in that she is capable of being kind or cruel.

Looking forward to the next chapter.

Thank you!

Jenna

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Re: A Game of Chess, Ch. 19 -- PG-13

Post by allegrita »

Wow... Rose has multiple loyalties. But I have to say, it makes me a little sad that she'd kill one of her swallows, just to make a point. I'm glad Josef kept his cool... and that Flora will live to see another day, or rather night.

What a prelude to negotiations! :gasp:
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Re: A Game of Chess, Ch. 19 -- PG-13

Post by darkstarrising »

Wow, Lucky, this story has so many complex characters, each with their own agenda. I wonder what Rose's agenda is and whether Josef will suffer for it. Either Rose is up to no good, or she is just making sure that Josef understands the lengths she'll go to to ensure her son's safety. Like Josef, she is a shrewd businesswoman, but unlike Josef, she has her child to protect.
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Re: A Game of Chess, Ch. 19 -- PG-13

Post by francis »

I enjoyed the description of Josef crouching on that roof and seeing through his eyes. He's on dangerous territory with Rose, I fear she's a match to him and they both will have a battle of wills. Can't wait to read more.
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