Chapter 64: Spies Among Us

 

Overall, Razia was quite satisfied with how things were going. Nearly a month of being open and everything was going better than expected. Things weren’t perfect; there was the odd infighting among the girls. Mostly between Isa and Lynne. And Isa and Kelli. And Isa and Razia. But that was all minor and, honestly, familiar enough to hardly register as being problems.

 

They were making more money than she had since Razia first arrived in Orchrisus, though most of it went into her debt to Quentin. Or rather, three quarters of it went to him and Razia pocketed the last bit for personal spending. It wasn’t like Quentin made her pay for anything for their home or their business. It would be another few months before they were square, but Quentin either didn’t keep track or care. He seemed happy enough to just be there.

 

That was another thing. Spending every night together had honestly been great. Each night they spent drinking and laughing and playing games until the customers came in and they switched their attention. It became a simple dance of going in and out of conversations and bedrooms and coming back to a different combination of people. It rarely got dull, and Razia got to spend it with some of her favorite people in the world.

 

The closest thing she could think of a downside was in all that time, things between her and Quentin remained in an odd stalemate, where the two would orbit each other, neither getting closer or further away. When he sat on his throne, she’d sometimes sit in his lap to try to get a rise out of him. He’d support her with an arm around her waist and the other across her legs, and for a little while it would be nice. But much like the times a client picked her for their evening’s entertainment, his icy blue eyes would linger on her with a shadow of something deeper behind them, and he would do nothing.

 

Truthfully, Razia didn’t know what she was expecting, or even wanting. They were doing well, they were safe, and neither of them were denying their attraction to the other. It was starting to get a little frustrating, even knowing the cause behind Quentin’s hesitation. There was a big difference between work and play, between the attention she showed her clients and the attention she showed her lovers. Things were becoming frustrating indeed.

 

Which is why Razia reveled in her current task. She sat on the master bed in the Moonlit Garden, eyeing the applicant standing a few feet away. He was a slender, olive complexioned Mooran man with short dark hair and playful, secretive eyes. He had a soft, pleasing mouth that seemed locked to a permanent smirk that demanded her attention. The young man was pleasant to look at and he knew it, without the baggage of arrogance or smugness. He had the lazy, languid grace of a cat, even standing in place.

 

He’d introduced himself as Tenchi, and they’d disappeared into the room to conduct the interview. Since then, Razia had motioned for him to stand in the middle of the room, while she sat back on the bed, hands splayed out behind her, propping her up. They’d been like that for a few minutes now, neither one of them speaking. She’d thought to see how long it would be before his composure cracked, but Tenchi stood there, tranquil and serene.

 

“How long have you been fucking people for money?” Razia said, finally breaking the silence.

 

Tenchi inclined his head towards her and said, “Sex for money? A couple years now. My company for gifts and treats? Four years. If it was just about fucking, it would be boring, don’t you think?”

 

Ooh, she liked him. A smile spread across her face and the smirk on his grew. “Too true. And in that time, what all would you do for your clients?”

 

“Well,” he said, wetting his lips, “it depends what they wanted out of me. For most of them, it was to be romanced. Wined, dined, taken out for a nice time, made to feel like they were the only person in the world. And for those who treated me well and knew my worth, I’d do anything they asked. Within reason, of course.” He had a smooth, light tenor and an even tone that drew the listener in. “I served many men and women in my time. Few could complain, and even fewer would.”

 

Ah, that was important. The majority of their clients were men, and some had walked away disappointed when they found out there were no men working the garden other than Quentin, who was very much off the table for everyone. Razia didn’t think Tenchi would have any trouble attracting clients, but there were still certain things that were unfortunately important for male whores. “Show me what you’re working with,” Razia said, snapping a finger and pointing to the ground. “Strip.”

 

Tenchi didn’t hesitate. He peeled off the vest he wore, showing his bare chest underneath. He was lithe, with enough muscle definition to look intriguing and not be skin and bones, and just a light spattering of black chest hair. Slipping out of his sandals, he pulled his trousers down and stepped out of them, standing nude and proud of it, with his hands resting on his hips.

 

Razia’s gaze slid downwards, to his navel and the V shape pointing downwards to his cock. Even flaccid he had enough to look good on first sight, with most of the hair around him trimmed neatly. It was darker than the rest of him, and Razia wondered how big he would be when aroused. She motioned with her finger for him to turn around. “Bend over,” she said.

 

The smirk on his face only grew as he did what he was told. Tenchi made a show of turning around and putting his hand on his thighs. He spread his legs and bent over, showing a small, tightly muscled ass. She could see him peeking from between his legs, looking amused. “Do you see anything you think your customers will like?” he asked. “Anything you like?”

 

Razia chuckled. “Yes and yes. I think you’ve got something we can work with. You can get dressed now, if you want.”

 

“And if I don’t?”

 

She let out a soft, wistful sigh. It’d been a while since she’d done anything fun for herself. It was Quentin’s prerogative to not test out the new hires, but that didn’t mean it had to be hers. Still, one didn’t sate a craving for savory with something sweet. Razia could afford to be a little more patient. “If you don’t, then I have no problem with conducting the rest of this interview with you naked. My next question is, what are your hard limits?”

 

Tenchi straightened up and turned around. He stood with his legs apart, hands clasped behind his back and staring straight at her. “The usuals. I won’t have anything to do with piss or shit, nothing that will permanently harm me, and absolutely nothing involving children. Past that? I consider myself a trysexual.”

 

“You’ll try anything once?” Razia shook her head laughing. “Then we’re much alike. Honestly Tenchi, I think you’d be a good fit for the Moonlit Garden. Is there anything --” she was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Yes?” she called out.

 

Samantha opened the door. Right behind her was a tall, well muscled mercenary. He had the easy look of a wary predator and a dark edge in his eyes. His eyes slid between Razia and the naked Tenchi, darkening a bit. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” said Samantha. “This gentleman wants to see you. Says it’s urgent.”

 

“Urgent, huh?”

 

“I’m here on behalf of Mr. Cicero,” the man said in a low, oily voice. “Unless you’re too busy for him?”

 

Even knowing he was just testing her, Razia was alarmed. “No no, not at all. We’re always happy to help out Mr. Cicero and his associates. Tenchi, please go wait out in the atrium while I take care of this.”

 

The mooran man bowed to her and walked out, naked as the day he was born. Samantha and the merc got out of his way, with Samantha’s eyes lingering on him as he passed her. She followed him, while the man closed the door and took Tenchi’s spot. He kicked at the clothes on the floor and looked up at her, eyebrow raised.

 

“New employee,” Razia said, as if that explained anything. “How can I help you, and by extension, Mr. Cicero?” Inwardly, she hoped it was nothing big and he would leave quickly and quietly. She hadn’t forgotten her deal with the crime lord, but so far he hadn’t come to collect.

 

“We’re here for the information you promised him,” he said, snapping his fingers at her. “The details of your customers. You got it handy, or am I going to have to go back to him and explain?” He didn’t seem especially cruel, but he was curt and to the point.

 

“I have it, not a problem.” Razia fished a key out of her pocket and unlocked the drawer on the nightstand. This was her room to work in for the most part, even if she didn’t need to stay in it. It still seemed like the best place to hide the information. There was no chance Quentin would stumble on it, and if any of the girls did Razia would be the first to know about it and able to intercept it. She reached in and pulled out a couple of scrolls of paper, tightly wound up.

 

“Everything’s in here,” she said. “Every customer since we’ve opened, their occupations, and how much they’ve spent while here.” It had been easy enough to write the information down, saying it was good to keep records and notice trends in when people came and went. Quentin hadn’t questioned that logic, and it burned how easy it was to get away with it. “It’s everything he and I agreed on. Almost.”

 

The merc took it from her, eyeing it like he wanted to open it up and check it over. Eventually he just shrugged and said, “Almost?”

 

“Mr. Cicero said he’d be sending someone to work here as a spy,” she said. “Someone to collect more information for him so I wouldn’t have to.”

 

He just shrugged. “Wouldn’t know anything about that. The left hand doesn’t know what the right hand’s up to, and all that.” Without another word he walked out the door, leaving Razia alone with her thoughts.

 

The terms of their agreement were pretty simple, all things considered. Names and services rendered, and a plant to gather her own information. So far, they hadn’t really hired anyone extra, other than Kelli. But was she a spy? Razia went to the door and peeked out of it, looking out on the seating area beside the skylight and between the ring of rooms.

 

Tenchi stood there, still naked and chatting with Samantha. The plump woman had a light flush to her face and seemed to be enjoying herself. On the couches closest to Razia, Kelli and Jenna sat. They were spending more and more time together, and while she was glad for Jenna to have someone to finally replace Amy, she didn’t know where they stood with Kelli.

 

The girl was brash, opinionated, loud, and honestly kind of dim. Small minded. She asked a lot of questions and…Razia sighed. Yes, she was probably the spy, come to think of it. Who else could it be? Quentin was out now seeing about getting them some additional security to take some of the pressure off of him, and she was handling a couple of interviews before they opened for the night. There hadn’t been any other opportunities to plant someone among them, unless Cicero was biding his time and sent Tenchi along.

 

That was a possibility she wasn’t willing to rule out entirely, but her gut told her it was Kelli. It was the little things, the way that she needled all of them and then backed off, the times she would say something about one of them when they weren’t around, and the questions. So many questions about Razia herself, while she avoided speaking to her directly. She had a bad feeling about her from the start, but she’d written it off as false with how petty and kind of dumb the woman seemed. A perfect trait in a spy.

 

Heads turned as footsteps came from the direction of the garden. Quentin came trudging up, looking utterly haunted. The rest of the room greeted him but Quentin seemed to not hear much of it. He met Razia’s gaze and it was enough to make her feel cold and worried. She came up to him and whispered, “is everything okay?”

 

Quentin shook his head. “Not really. Things are…Well, there’s good news, at least.” He smiled sadly.

 

“Okay,” said Razia, putting a hand on his arm and letting it rest there. It was amazing what little touches could do to ease some of his tension. He leaned a little closer and said, “Demetrius is going to help us find a few people to look after the place. He says he thinks he can find someone who fits our criteria and will like our pay.”

 

“I’d hope so,” Razia scoffed. “For just a few hours of work it’s damned good pay.”

 

“And,” Quentin continued, “Three days from now he and Jonas will look after the Garden for me.”

 

“Well, good. That’ll…wait.” Razia realized what he was saying. “Why? Where will you be?”

 

The pain on his face deepened. He gently pulled on her hand and brought him into the bathroom, away from everyone else. Some of the girls’ clothes lay strewn there, forgotten after the morning’s bath. She’d need to remind them to clean up after themselves, especially if clients wanted to use it. Quentin stopped when he was sure there was no one else around. “They need me at the Colosseum for a night,” he said.

 

It took a few seconds for his words to truly register with her. Irritation bubbled up and boiled over. “What? After the shit they pulled with Maria? After the way they’ve treated you for years? Why the hell would you go back to them? You don’t need them anymore Quentin.” Heat flooded to her cheeks. It wasn’t that she thought there was a possibility of him losing so much as him losing himself if he had to go back to doing that. He was so much happier now.

 

“No,” he said, letting out a sigh. “I don’t need them, but they need me. If I don’t do it, Cervenka will. Amicus refused to let that happen, and I won’t either.”

 

“What’s so important about this job? Who is it that’s so important you have to be the one to kill them?”

 

His eyes dropped to the ground. “An eight year old girl.”

 

Silence.

 

All her anger faded away, replaced with shock and disgust. “Are you serious?” Razia gaped. “You can’t be. Who in their right minds would have you murder a fucking child?”

 

“The fair and impartial Orchrisus courts,” Quentin deadpanned. “She was found guilty of arson and the murder of nearly a dozen people due to the fire she started. It was…It was just some dumb kid, playing with a lantern. She dropped it and the inn caught fire. She ran away, and was too young and too scared to warn anyone about it.”

 

“How did they even know it was her?” Razia demanded.

 

“Because,” Quentin took a deep breath. When he spoke again his voice cracked a little. “When the inn burned down, her mother was inside. When the fire brigade came by she was sobbing about how sorry she was. They questioned her, found out what happened, and the courts decided they needed someone to blame and punish for it.”

 

“Quentin…” Razia swallowed a lump in her throat. “You can’t do this, Quentin. You can’t kill a child.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Quentin snapped, voice raising. “If I don’t do it, they’ll give her to Cervenka. He’ll torture her. She’ll spend her last moments alive in pain and scared out of her mind. If I do it, I can make it fast. She won’t suffer. Didn’t you say that could be my gift, Razia? That’s what I am. I’m a killer. And whether you like it or not, three days from now I’m going to leave for the night and murder a child so someone worse doesn’t do it.”

 

It was like being slapped in the face, hearing him say it like that. Her eyes burned and her next breath caught in her throat. She swallowed again, but it wasn’t doing anything. “What about you?” she asked. “How are you going to live with yourself after that?”

 

“I…I don’t know,” he croaked. Quentin stared at the floor, unwilling or unable to look at her. “Will you hate me?” he asked all of a sudden. “I don’t care about what anyone else thinks of me, but will you hate me for this?”

 

“Gods Quentin,” she said, heart breaking. “Of course not. I couldn’t.”

 

Quentin took a shuddering breath, and she realized he was near tears as well. She’d only seen him cry a couple of times, and he always tried to hide it. It was one of the first things that really showed her how different he was. Despite his years in the arena, he was still human. He was still a person who felt things deeply and he carried it all, hidden away from the world. “I’m going to hate me for this,” he said. “But I’d hate myself more if I don’t do it.”

 

Razia carefully closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. A second later, he hugged her back, squeezing her tight while he struggled to control his breathing and not break down. She held him there, saying nothing for a few minutes. Razia let him be the one to choose when it ended, when they spoke. It was the best way she had to help him.

 

“I might need you,” he said. “When I return.”

 

“Whatever you need of me, you’ll have it,” Razia whispered, her cheek against his. “We can close up for the night when you get home. It’ll just be me, you, a couple bottles of wine, and we’ll just hurt together if we have to. For as long as you need.”

 

Quentin pulled back and finally looked at her. He blinked away unshed tears and was stable. There was a look in his eyes there, something like gratitude and…and longing. Razia offered him her best, gentle, reassuring smile. His hand went up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it, keeping her eyes on his. This was it. She knew the look on his face, and had seen it countless times. He was finally going to make a move.

 

He angled his head forward, resting his forehead against hers. Razia let out a sigh and tilted her head up, closing most of the distance between the two of them. All he had to do was reach out and kiss her. It wouldn’t be the best circumstances for it, but maybe it would bring him some comfort, some joy, some feeling of being connected and accepted. Proof that even if he killed a child, she understood and wouldn’t blame him.

 

A loud squeak of sandals on tile startled them. Kelli stood there, looking at the two of them with her mouth in a silent O. “Shit, is this a bad time?”

 

“Yes,” Razia said through clenched teeth. “A really bad time.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll come back later.” Kelli backed up until she was out of sight. Razia was about ready to fire her on the spot, Cicero be damned, when she realized there was no way of knowing how much the girl overheard, if any. Whatever, it didn’t matter. Mr. Cicero knew what Quentin did before meeting her, and he had no reason to hold that information over their heads. Razia would give it a few days and then confront Kelli about it. After the…after the execution.

 

Quentin pulled away from her and Razia knew the moment was lost. It was closer than they’d come in quite a while, but she knew from the neutral mask he wore that he’d be too embarrassed, too stuck in his head to try again and it wouldn’t count if she was the one who did it. “I might want to keep to myself tonight,” he said quietly.

 

Razia forced a smile on her face. She cupped his cheek much like he had hers and said, “Do what you need to do to be okay, Quentin. I’ll take care of everything else tonight, and when…when you do it, I’ll be here to share that burden.”

 

When it came down to it, that was what she did. She provided comfort and companionship, and even if Quentin wasn’t ready for anything else, she would have all of her that he would accept. It was the least, and the most, she could do for him for now.