Obsidian Eyes

by A. W. Exley

  She took a deep breath as his gaze slid over her, moved back and then he raised an eyebrow. Contact made and acknowledged with the barest gestures, they both continued on their paths.

  In her slow appraisal of the room and the many darkened alcoves, a scene at odds with the rest of the activity arrested her attention. A woman seated at the bar, still and contemplative amongst the frenetic bustle. She wore an ankle length black dress with a black velvet tabard over the top. Intricate silver embroidery ran along the edges. Long black hair fell around her face but when she moved the front lock was a vivid purple. What intrigued Allie most were the facial piercings. The woman had multiple rings in her eyebrow, a bar through the bridge of her nose and several more rings through her lip.

  The woman held a sketchpad which absorbed all her attention, her pencil paused over the cream paper. Allie tried to look over her shoulder to see what she drew, when the woman looked up.

  “Sorry,” Allie muttered.

  “You’re new. The new are usually either curious or terrified,” the woman said.

  “You’re Devi, aren’t you?” Allie realised why the woman was above events around her.

  “You’re smart, most people don’t notice,” Devi admitted.

  Allie’s gaze shot down to the hand holding the pencil and over the skin of her wrist. “You’re not marked.”

  “If I was aligned to one guild, how could I be neutral?”

  Allie frowned. Although her words made sense on one level, the mark was the price for admission to the underworld. Only the lowest, dwelling at the edges and deemed unworthy, remained pristine. Yet Devi held court.

  Devi gave a soft chuckle. “A puzzle isn’t it? How I can be part of this world, but not marked by it.”

  Something clicked in Allie’s brain, the tiniest chink of light fell on to her problem. She tried to grab the sliver of hope, when the other woman’s voice broke her concentration and it fluttered back to the recesses of her mind.

  “Where will you go tonight?” She gestured to the surroundings.

  Allie could see movement within many of the rooms. “I’m curious about the alcoves. What goes on in there?”

  “The Dark Garden has many rooms,” Devi said. “Some are invitation only, others are open. For novices we always advise: don’t enter if you’re not sure, or you may find yourself deeper than you are comfortable going.”

  The alcove rooms had stone walls to waist height. Some with curtains draped on the inside, so the interior was closed to view. The one in front of Allie was open and she wandered closer to see what happened inside. The interior of the stone room lined with plush red velvet and the floor covered in equally luxurious cushions of varying sizes and designs. In the middle of the room on a pile of deep purple cushions lay a semi-naked girl. Prone, her eyes closed, Allie didn’t know if she was asleep or in some sort of rapture. A mixture of men and women in black clothing knelt around her body, licking at small wounds in her arms and legs. Allie gave a start when she realised they were lapping at the girl’s blood.

  “Don’t mind my blood drinkers.” Devi moved off her bar stool to follow Allie as she explored. “We always ensure the provider is willing. And she is given a hearty meal when they have finished with her.”

  Allie turned her head slightly. “But, are they―” She didn’t want to say the word vampire out loud, in case she gave it any credence.

  Devi gave the hint of a smile. “If they were, do you think they would need a blade?”

  Allie turned to watch again, and saw one take up a tiny knife and make a nick in the girl’s arm before starting to drink. It still made her shudder. Taking in their black clothing and pallid complexions, she had an inkling of what Lord Hamilton probably got up to at night.

  “You’ll find many such activities here,” Devi explained. “Blood drinkers, arsenic eaters, opium smokers, suspension and more. All people exploring the many facets of their personalities, trying to find their true selves.”

  Allie thought the bar a retreat for the guilds and a place for them to conduct their business; the underworld equivalent of the nobles’ gentleman’s clubs. Now she realised the stone walls contained something altogether darker.

  “Why do you think people come here?” Devi asked, breaking her contemplation.

  Allie looked at the people around her, at those immersing themselves in the music or other actions. The question had an obvious answer, to conduct business, but there was a deeper reason hidden in the dark.

  “To lose themselves,” she answered.

  “No,” Devi corrected her. “But it’s a common mistake. They come here to find themselves. To be who they really are. Here people can tear off the mask, drop the pretensions, and be the person who resides deep within. That’s what I draw. I capture the moment when the mask is peeled away, to reveal what is hidden underneath.”

  Duncan and Jared reappeared from within the crowd. Jared stood close to Allie and placed his hand on the small of her back. Goose bumps raced over her flesh from his warm touch. He stroked her spine with a finger, causing a slow heat to move up her body.

  “He has a lot to peel off,” Devi indicated Jared. She summed up Duncan with only a quick look. “Your other friend, nothing hidden there.”

  Allie made brief introductions by way of explanation, although silently she agreed with Devi’s assessment of both cousins.

  “Good,” Jared said. “We need your assistance. We have business with Gregor Illyich, we were told we would find him here.”

  “Gregor.” She rolled the rrrs, drawing his name out. “He holds court on the other side of the bar, he has his own alcove.”

  “Thank you.” Jared bowed and turned to leave.

  “One more thing.” Devi halted him before he left. “You won’t get close to him unless he wants you to, even if he is expecting you. He’s rather jaded these days and seeks new entertainment.”

  Jared nodded his thanks and took Allie’s hand, to lead her around to the other side of the Dark Garden.

  “I saw Christian earlier,” Allie murmured. “He is watching us.”

  One large alcove dominated the other half of the bar, bordered by two smaller recesses and a much more compact and intimate dance floor. Two formidable and robust bodyguards stood at the entrance to the large alcove. They snarled at anyone who got too close to their master. Jared could just make out a middle-aged blond man reclining on a pile of cushions within, accompanied by two nubile women.

  “So now what do we do?” Allie looked to Jared as they leaned against the bar, staring at the well-muscled bodyguards who stood between them and the man who held the answers they sought. “Even though the count is expecting me, we still need an invitation to his little sanctum.”

  Jared ran his gaze over the long, toned leg revealed by the parted folds of Allie’s skirt. “Then let’s attract his attention.”

  “How?” she asked.

  A smile tugged at the corners of Jared’s mouth. His heated stare ran from her thigh, up over her flat stomach and stopped on her face. “We give him something he probably hasn’t seen before. Something not long from Egypt.”

  Comprehension dawned on Allie. She held up her hands in protest. “No way. I’m not dancing here, in front of all these people.”

  “Got a better idea?” Jared asked.

  “Can’t Duncan amaze him with his powers of seduction?” Allie retorted.

  “Judging by his companions, I don’t think his appetite runs in that direction, otherwise he would be doing it.”

  Duncan remained silent but he held out his hand which dangled another full shot glass in front of Allie.

  Allie took the small glass and tossed the contents down her throat before handing the empty glass back. “I’m going to need another one. And I’m not doing this on my own.”

  Duncan gave her a suspicious look. “What do you mean by that?” He waved to the bartender and indicated he was to top up the glass, which he then handed to Allie.

  Once she had knocked bac
k the next shot, she grabbed Duncan by the open side of his vest.

  “You’re coming as my prop.”

  She smiled wickedly and dragged him out to the dance floor as the music changed.

  The beat thrummed through her body. She closed her eyes, shutting out the press of bodies, and remembered the hours of dancing in the harem. The blinded musicians sat on their raised dais, surrounded by silken pillows. The other women lounged on chaises or cushions, limbs draped in languid abandon.

  She danced with slow rhythmic steps as the girls were taught, in the hope of attracting the attention of the sultan. The dance was sinuous and fluid as she slid around Duncan. Arms above her head, her movement became beautiful and deadly, a cobra briefly tamed, swaying to the music of the snake charmer.

  With the last note of the music she collapsed to the floor on her knees, in a deep bow of submission to the observer in the alcove.

  With shallow breaths, Duncan managed to put out a hand to help her rise, before stalking back to the bar.

  One of the large guards approached Allie, who stood alone in the middle of the floor.

  “The count would like to talk to you.” He waved a hand in the direction of the alcove and indicated for her to follow him. She gave a quick glance back at Jared, before crossing the floor with the bodyguard. He resumed his place by the entrance and gestured for Allie to continue inside. She hesitated for a second, before stepping over the threshold and onto the lush Persian carpet spread on the slate floor.

  The Reaper agent patted the velvet cushions next to him and Allie sunk down into the welcoming comfort, her breath still fast from the dance.

  He stretched out his hand and dangled a bunch of green grapes at her. The inside of his wrist bore a death’s head within an intricate circle.

  Allie noted the level of design around his mark. High in the guild, just below the lieutenants.

  She took the offered fruit. “Grapes,” she sighed with longing, before pulling one plump sphere from the stalk and popping it into her mouth.

  “Tell me cherié, in what bordello did you learn to dance?” he said in heavily accented English as he ran hungry eyes over her reclining body.

  “None, I learned in Egypt,” she replied, sucking the juice from a grape and letting the tang slide down her throat before chewing on the tasty pulp.

  She hid her surprise when he made his next comment in rusty Arabic. “Do you expect me to believe you were taught in the harems?”

  Arabic flowed naturally from her lips, taught to her by her mother and grandmother. “I am one of many daughters. It would take a brave man to criticise the teachings of Muhammad Ali’s harem.”

  He gave a short loud bark of laughter and switched back to English. “Well, well, well. You are a surprise package aren’t you?” He poured vodka into two shot glasses and handed one to Allie before downing the other.

  “I do try.” She gave an impish grin, took the glass and tipped back her head swallowing the vodka in one hit. “You sound as far from home as I am,” she commented on his accent. “What part of Russia are you from?”

  “I doubt you would know it, cherié,” he said, a wistful look in his brown eyes. “I have been away from home for over a year now, on business in these Isles. I was told to expect an exotic bird, do you know from whose hand?”

  “Le Foy,” she whispered.

  He picked up her hand and drew a thumb over her wrist in an unspoken question.

  “Being unmarked allows you a greater level of discretion,” she explained.

  He nodded and placed her hand back on the red silk cushion. “And what message will my song bird sing for me?”

  She could see Jared pacing back and forth in front of the alcove. “My friend and I are in possession of something that will interest you. Will you discuss business now that I have entertained you?” She rolled over onto her stomach to fix the count with her black eyes. “Otherwise I will have to leave, to reassure my friend I am not in danger.”

  He looked her over once more. “If it will make you stay with me for a while longer, cherié.”

  Allie nodded and Gregor gestured for the bodyguard to allow Jared entry.

  The young man stepped through and gave a slight bow of greeting before seating himself opposite the count.

  “My canary here tells me you have something which may interest me?” Gregor said.

  Jared got straight to the point. “Yes, something which will greatly assist your manufacturing endeavour.”

  Interest and greed sparked in the older man’s eyes. “Really, and you definitely hold the item? It would be most fortuitous if you do indeed have it. Matched sets work so much better than a solo piece.” He tapped his fingers against his knee.

  Jared nodded. “We have it.”

  “I want to see it. I have been disappointed before.” The count leaned back and reached for his drink. “Tomorrow at the Gardens, meet me at 2pm by the Glasshouses. I need to see proof before we discuss the finer details.”

  “Very well, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Jared replied.

  “Do bring my little treasure here.” Gregor indicated Allie. “I find her quite intriguing and would like to know her better.”

  Jared arched an eyebrow and shot a look at Allie. “Of course,” he said.

  Gregor clapped his hands. “Good. Show me the package tomorrow and then we can discuss our business further.”

  “We’ll be there.” He stood and held out a hand to help Allie to her feet.

  “You’ll not take my new friend so soon?” The count stuck out his lower lip, a petulant child on the brink of a tantrum.

  Jared tried to placate him. “I’m afraid I must, or I might not get her back at all.”

  Allie took Jared’s hand and rose to her feet with feline grace. She blew a kiss to the count, who made an exaggerated catch of it. She let Jared escort her out of the room and back around the bar to the main part of the Dark Garden.

  Christian stood at the end of the bar, a woman draped around his torso. The single eyebrow arched as she approached. Allie gave the barest nod, before continuing to where Duncan waited.

  “Are we successful?” Duncan asked as soon as they were close.

  “We’re nearly there. He wants to see Zeb first, and then we discuss the business arrangements, which hopefully nets us the location we need.” Jared replied.

  Duncan gave a nod and handed another glass to Allie. “Job well done,” he commented as she knocked the drink back.

  Jared frowned as Allie gave a slight sway from the effect of all the shot glasses people kept handing her.

  “I think she’s had enough for the evening, she hasn’t got the same mass as you to soak all that up.” He put out a hand to steady her.

  Duncan laughed. “She’ll be fine, I doubt you’ll let her come to any harm and Allie’s enjoying herself. Let her live a little.”

  Two women appeared wearing little more than corsets and strategically placed feathers. They took a hand each and dragged him off to the dance floor.

  Jared watched Duncan, led out to the dance floor and soon surrounded by a group of women. “How does he do it?” he mused out loud.

  “He’s irresistible.” Allie replied on following his line of sight. “Duncan is like a giant puppy, he’s so cuddly and tactile and just… sweet. He draws you in, there’s a generosity about his soul.”

  “Thanks,” Jared said. “That makes me feel infinitely better about myself.”

  Allie laughed. “You’re irresistible in a different way. You’re as closed as Duncan is open. Duncan is so playful but not you. You’re so serious, there’s an air of danger about you. You draw girls like moths to a flame, we know we’ll get burnt but occasionally one will risk the fire, just to try to get close. It would be worth the pain just to feel the heat, even if it consumes us.”

  The vodka and whisky combination racing through her veins made Allie rash. She did something she had been longing to do for months; she reached up a hand and gently brushed Jared’s
hair out of his eye and smoothed it off to the side. She tilted her head and regarded him. “I think that’s why you wear your hair like that.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Your eyes, they’re so intense. That gaze goes right through you as if you are looking at our very souls and laying us bare before you. It must make girls do mad, rash things. If you leave them covered, slightly obscured, we have a fighting chance of keeping our sanity around you and of staying out of the fire.” The mood between the two of them changed, awakening desire lay at the edge.

  He moved closer to her, leaned in and then whispered in her ear. “What mad rash thing could I make you do?”

  He pulled back and their eyes met again. She reached up, placed her hand on the side of his face and tipped her head. She leaned in and kissed him, so gently at first, her lips a whisper against his. Jared’s left hand snaked out, spanned the bare flesh of the small of her back and pulled her close to him, hard against his chest. His fingers caressed her spine. His lips were firm and his tongue insistent as he probed against her teeth.

  When she parted them, he could taste the whisky in her mouth. The knuckles of his right hand gripped the rail of the bar, turning white with pressure as he tried to keep himself from overwhelming her. He used the feel of the cold metal to distract part of his mind, when every instinct and hormone in his body commanded him to grab her tight and crush her mouth with his hunger.

  The buzz running over his limbs grew and then a bolt of electricity shot through his body, the raw intensity stealing his breath.

  Allie gasped in his arms. Jared drew back, his pulse racing and a frown on his face. “Did you feel that too?”

  “Yes. What was it?” She searched his gaze for an answer.

  “An added bonus,” he murmured. Thanks to the Stone of Coulags.

  She took a deep breath and her midnight gaze rose to meet his. Her heart pounded against his bare torso in unison with his, as he drew a shuddering lungful of air. Over her shoulder, Duncan watched them from the dance floor.