Chapter 26 The Artist and The Blade Suffer Through
The Artist and The Blade Suffer Through
RAFE
“Who are all these people?”
I smile at the House of Speed folks as they make their way toward the pool area, giving Michaela a small wave.
Once the bitch found Blade and me, she handed over some host duties.
According to her, it’s my damn party, and she will kill me if she wants to.
I think she may have misinterpreted that song, but I can’t say she’s not right.
“That’s Michaela. She and her droid, Preston, were two of the first people to move here when the woman opened the Community up.
Since then, Vic and the boys made Aiden and Shane for her. Didn’t Taurus tell you about her?”
“Shane doesn’t look like any double template I’ve ever seen. Who is he modeled after?”
“It’s a slight bone of contention. He’s made to look and behave like someone famous in the real place.
Victor and Caesar have made a few droids like that, but it’s been kept quiet.
Some community members have no issue with them; some are uncomfortable with them.
His template is obnoxious, so Hex tweaked his programming a little.
There are three others like him—Derek, Grayson, and Priscilla—but based on different templates. They resolved it before you came back.”
My wife growls and mutters under her breath as I chuckle. She’s not the ‘hostess’ type and now she has to reckon with an enormous community with a history that’s years in the making—in one night.
“You know, name-tags would have been hard to deal with on this attire—who the hell has an Eighties-looking dress as their fetish—but I would have been happy as hell to see them.”
I shrug. “That’s Michaela for you. I think Preston’s dressed like a guy from the big car racing movie series. I don’t see the other two now.”
“Rafe! How exquisite to see you! It’s been forever!”
The fire-engine red-haired Tamara, head of the House Tropics, leans in to kiss my cheek, and my wife’s ire rises. “Hello, Tamara. I see you brought the entire family with you. I’m so glad.”
Tamara’s lips curled into a flirty smile so expert I could practically hear the click of the hunting safety coming off.
There was a moment, the entire world pivoting around the angle of her painted chin, where I had the sense of standing in a well-lit showroom, every gesture and word a posed and deliberate reflection off some glossy, predestined surface.
She’s trying to bait Talia, I think, but I don’t know why.
My wife’s hand tenses against mine, and before Tamara can complete the loaded hello, I squeeze back—part warning, part reminder of what this party is meant to accomplish.
“Tamara,” I said, keeping my voice just above a purr, “I don’t think you’ve had the chance to meet my mate, Talia.
Talia, this is Tamara. She’s the brains behind the House of Tropics, and that’s not even counting the droids she runs with: Shea, Drake, and Grayson.
” I ticked off the names with a subtle nod.
“Their extended lineup includes Rita, JJ, Wally, and Priscilla. It’s a bustling household. ”
The brazen woman is unfazed by my words and extends a long-nailed hand, each digit capped in some perverse hybrid of tropical sea-glass and predator’s claw.
“A pleasure,” she said, holding Talia’s gaze with a challenge.
For a moment, the air between them shimmers with the strange, mutual recognition of two predators who both believe themselves at the top of the food chain.
I don’t think Tamara realizes how outmatched she is, but that’s not my job to say.
The surge of Talia’s confusion and wariness makes me chuckle internally.
Of all the people in this place, she and her little family kept to themselves, rarely extending the olive branch to their neighbors before now.
Talia had no idea the other households were this large, or that so many people she doesn’t know live here now.
Most of these folks placed droid orders with the express purpose of building out full houses, and have their own alliances, rivalries, and interlocking domains of social leverage.
Now she knows that Victor and Caesar, the architects of the Resistance, were very busy.
I watch as Tamara shoos her crew away with the ease of a circus ringmaster, each member falling into character as if a whistle was blown.
Grayson handled the leashes affixed to Rita and Priscilla, both of whom were dressed in some unholy marriage of schoolgirl and carnivorous plant—pleated skirts, vine-green lipstick, and enough exposed skin to make the air itself feel hotter.
Talia eyes their display with open suspicion, and I can practically read the words in her expression—how many more are like this?
“It’s nice to meet you, Tamara and Rita,” Talia says, her voice level but her fingers digging incrementally into my palm.
She’s making a show of ignoring the leashes and the outfits, but I could sense the internal recoil—she’d seen a lot of things, but ostentatious power plays and sex-cult pageantry weren’t her native language.
She’s already adapting, mapping out the unfamiliar territory, the way she always does because she’s actually a predator, unlike Tamara.
Rita’s face splits into a wide, glittering smile.
“We’ve heard all about you,” she said to Talia.
“Tamara says you’re the one who keeps Rafe from doing anything too…
risky.” There’s a purposeful implication there, and I know immediately that yet another person in this room had an eye on our family as a potential rival or prize.
This is why my primary was so eager to pull away from the crowds—we barely know Rita and her family, yet she thought we were an achievable goal.
“Rita,” Tamara said, half-chiding, half-proud, “don’t scare the poor woman.
She’s new to the expanded community.” The way she emphasized ‘community’ makes it clear she means not only the physical space but the web of relationships, hierarchies, and secret econometrics that undergird every gathering.
I step in to take back some control. “We’re all new until the first time something explodes,” I joke, and there’s just enough edge in my voice to remind everyone that my primary and I had a history of surviving detonations—social, literal, emotional—and coming out of them better than we went in.
“Anyway, you ladies and gentlemen should help yourselves to whatever food strikes your fancy. There’s a bar set up near the deep end, and the marked magic rooms are open for business, unless the door says otherwise.
You know the drill—respect our boundaries and those of the other attendees or be banished. ”
Tamara’s laugh is harsh. “Oh, cowboy, you know us too well. Maybe one day we’ll turn the tables and host you at our place for once.
” She lets her gaze linger on Talia, sizing her up before she moves off.
The trailing tendrils of her perfume and pheromones seem to linger in the air, and I wave my hand to dispel them.
For a moment, Talia stands in the wake of their passage, the low thrum of the party rising around us.
Splashes of water, shouts, the radiating heat of so many bodies crowded together surround us as I wait for her to speak again.
I feel the pulse of her muted fury at being caught off-balance even for a minute.
She’s not, nor has she ever been, the ‘hostess with the mostest’ type, and I sense her resentment at being forced into the role.
More than that, I sense a deep, gnawing unease at what the rest of the night might bring.
The sheer density of intrigue is enough to make anyone’s head spin, and even I feel the beginnings of a migraine blooming at the base of my skull.
I tried to lighten the mood. “If you’d asked me what my life would look like outside of The Company, I never would have said ‘suburban key party with droids and horny humans for neighbors.’ But here we are.” I keep my voice low, the joke for her ears only as I grin a bit.
She gives me a tight smile. “You’re braver than I am,” she said.
“Most days I feel like I’m barely keeping up.
” She scanned the crowd again, eyes landing on twins—identical, down to the exact shade of lipstick and the crescent-shaped scar on their chins—arguing in high, whiplash voices over which sex toys are more likely to survive an accidental dunking.
“Did you know these people would come in mini-alliances?” She asks suddenly, the question sharp enough to draw blood.
I shake my head. “I knew the Houses were a thing, but I didn’t know how far they’ve all taken it.
” I gesture at the crowd, the way it separated neatly into clusters and cliques and rival factions, each staking their claim with subtle territory markers.
“The cat and I have been busy since your bird showed up, and we haven’t been interacting as much.
It’s obviously become a bigger problem than we knew. ”
A flicker of amusement cuts through her skepticism. “They’re like little kingdoms,” she said, “and you’re the only one who didn’t get the memo.” She squeezes my hand as if to reassure herself that some things are unchanged. “Is it going to make life worse for Deli?”
“Probably,” I admit, looking at the way she squares her shoulders when I reply. “You want to leave?” I asked her, voice gentle. “We can hide somewhere instead of playing host. Say the word and I’ll force it on one of my family members, no matter how rude it is.”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I’d rather know what we’re up against. Besides,” she adds, “I want to see how long it takes for someone to force me to cut them.”
I laugh, and then dip my head to kiss her lightly. “Tamara won’t be the worst one, you know.”
Hissing a bit, she frowns. “That one, we should all watch out for. She’s looking for a way to the top, and it doesn’t matter who she goes through to get there. The tag-along is an accessory to her. Hell, the entire family is.”
“Amen to that,” I mutter. “She drags them along like dogs in purses.”
“Why does every single family here live in a named house like in a sci-fi novel and have a brood of droids like they’re building an army?” Talia says as she looks around. “That’s how this bullshit is happening, you know.”
“Because my family is extensive, and we had a house name given to our house, so now everyone else has to do it, too.”
Rolling her eyes, she hisses again and pulls out Baby, spinning the blade.
“Perhaps I see why Storm was so exhausted when she came to find Taurus. It has to be draining to watch these people all the time, making sure no one steps on anyone else’s toes but everyone feels like they belong and are having a good life. ”
“It’s exhausting watching her. She’s got some kind of—I don’t know—superpower for that shit. At least, she did until the shit with the exes. Now, she struggles a little.”
Her arms wrap around my waist, and she grins a little. “She wants to run off with the big bird and steal things from museums and get left alone.”
I roll my eyes and kiss her forehead. “Something like that, though I think she wouldn’t mind having us along.”
“You think?” Her cheeks flush, and I’m reminded for a moment that as much as my wife exudes confidence and mystique to others, the cat and I get to see a very different side of her.
“I do love.” I peck her cheek, turning when I see another group coming. I smile, happy to see this one.
The tiny dark-haired Canadian and her quirky court jester-like mate come up, looking around the room with smirks on their faces. They stop for a moment and whisper something, then head over.
“Oi, Monet, this is a wild scene,” Mercury says, brows bobbing.
Chuckling, I nod. “It is at that. No bad news yet, but the clouds haven’t hit the seaboard yet.”
Talia blinks owlishly, looking at the droid and me, then at his mate. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”
“I do. I’m Lily, and this is Mercury. That is how he thinks.” The co-mayor of this little burg is an unassuming lady, and she sticks her hand out to shake.
“Peaches, Tricks, this is my mate, Talia. I’m not sure if you’ve met yet, but figure I should introduce you.”
“Simple part, that, since she did it first. Where’s my first mate, eh?” Mercury looks around, eyes squinting into the crowd.
Talia’s eyes narrow, and I sigh, knowing I’ll be correcting assumptions all night since everyone here is so used to all the nicknames and jargon of long-time acquaintances.
“The cat’s off catching a canary. Your ship’s docked tonight, Captain.
You didn’t even bring the parrot, I see. Her furry crew’s off near the pool.”
He nods and tugs on Lily’s hand. “Come on, love. I have to see the boys, and I bet I know where they’re all hiding.”
“Bye, Rafe. Nice to meet you,” she calls as he tugs her off, a font of unchecked energy as always.
“First mate?” she gives me a narrow gaze.
“It’s not what you think. Mercury has fun by playing games.
Like a trickster, he’s all clever words and games and fun—never too serious.
He and the cat went to see the pirates movie, and they’ve been playing pirates ever since.
They haven’t been involved like that for a long time. It’s only friends.”
“Huh. What stopped—no, wait. I don’t want to know tonight. We have enough to worry about tonight. I have no idea what side all these people will fall on. The pack hasn’t even arrived yet, and that does not bode well.”
“Agreed. There are still more families to show, but I’m hoping the cat and bird wander back out of that room beforehand.”
“Even if we have to drag them out.”