12 #2
I dressed nice, but not too much. Something for the evening but not quite for a dinner.
It was a deep green again, the color beginning to nauseate me.
It felt nothing like something I’d wear, and my entire identity was in crisis at this point.
Perhaps being out of my own comforts meant it would be easier to embrace the changes thrust upon me. This was fine, I was fine.
We stood across from a nice brick building modeled after Tudor sensibilities.
Crosshatch windows and artificially aged stone, a castle-like aesthetic, and a large wooden door with iron details on the handle and window bars.
There was even a line of people stacked to get in. An exclusive club, a Guild.
“Why must I do it?” I turned to him. “I thought this was your spot?”
“Men aren’t allowed without bringing a lady.”
“So you’re using me to get in?” My shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to go anymore.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He stepped in front of me, holding his hands out to my arms as he walked backward. “Technically, I can’t get in anywhere. Not usually.”
“Why? Did you bring trouble with you, as usual? I don’t blame them.” I continued to walk, pushing against his hands as he continued to stumble.
“They don’t often check the guest! No one knows you.
” He dug his heel into the ground to fully stop me.
“Worst case, they ask my name and we are turned away. Best case, you get to enjoy your anonymity for a little longer. You can go anywhere, enjoy anything without people knowing your connection to our Nest.”
I nearly bumped into his chest, considering giving him a proper shove into the road. But first I considered it. It sounded nice in theory, but I wasn’t keen on being used as an entry piece.
“Why won’t they let you in?”
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the competitive nature of these Guilds.
” He tipped his head at me. “The formation of Chimera was sudden and successful. Because that’s what money can buy you, instant success.
But that doesn’t mean people don’t notice a new Nest in the same city.
They’ve barred us from using Guilds. There were makeshift Nests already here, for at least ten years before we showed up.
I’d feel a bit sour too if someone came and took a ten-year accomplishment and conquered them in only two. ”
The queue out the Guild doors was only getting longer.
“You said there are specimens in there?” I asked.
Luka smirked, his hands resting on either side of my head as he leaned down, now eye to eye with me. “At least one hundred on display, thousands in their archive with the museum.” It was like he was describing something sexual.
“How rare?” I whispered.
“Extinct, rare morphology, and mutations,” he whispered earnestly. “You may never be able to see them anywhere else in the world.”
It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
“Fine,” I sighed.
Luka let me go to punch the air in triumph, already walking toward the Guild.
We queued to wait our turn. Luka stood behind me, tipping his hat down as we approached the doorman.
There was a wall of a man guarding the door. His arms were thick as they crossed his chest. The lack of hair on his shiny head was made up for in the most pristine handlebar mustache I had ever laid eyes on.
“F-for two.” My words were unsure.
The doorman raised his bushy brow.
“Oh.” I shifted, clumsily flicking one fang forward to smile. I wasn’t sure if I had smiled wide enough for him to see, so I tried bigger, but my tooth stung and it snapped right back into my mouth. “Apologies—”
The man just waved us in hastily. More people had piled up behind us.
“You’re brilliant.” Luka wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we entered, shaking me in a fit of excitement.
“You’re just hungry.”
“Yes, indeed I am.” He grinned so wide, his canines were hard to hide. We both went up the stairs to the next floor. “Now, for you, my dear hatchling, you get to have a proper feeding.”
I glanced around, distracted by the sudden intricacies of my surroundings.
The walls were a deep red, every doorframe and wall lined with wooden trim details.
A giant stone fireplace was placed warmly in a parlor overlooking the street.
There were refreshments on the opposite end, and full staff.
Dozens of dark leather chairs and eclectic furniture to sit on, a good environment for conversation.
Men and women mingled, but the women outnumbered them entirely.
“It will be good for you to be away from people you know. Takes a bit of familiarity out of it. It’s a sensitive transition, I understand,” he assured me, then slapped me on the behind toward the parlor. “Now go talk to someone.”
“Excuse me—” I sneered, but he was already gone.
Of course he was gone.
The inside was expensive beyond what I could say is sensible, as if wealth and exploitation could be considered sensible at all.
Despite my disdain for the people who made this place, I was overwhelmed by the sense of awe for animals I couldn’t even name without the plaques.
The fear of touching anything breakable plagued my mind more than the urge to touch the specimens.
Every empty space on the walls was filled with busts; in each corner, a large taxidermied animal rather than the typical decorative plants.
In the middle, a juvenile albino giraffe.
A polar bear and a grizzly posed on two legs on either side of the fireplace.
A man in fine tailoring worked the bar, repurposed from a church or castle based on the carvings. Interestingly enough, I could smell whatever he was mixing from where I stood.
“Are you all right, miss?” The bartender tossed the cocktail shaker, the clamoring of cool ice within like an instrument.
“Overwhelmed,” I said politely.
“Let me know if I can be of service,” he said, pouring two drinks.
I leaned against the bar, not knowing how to word it.
He glanced at me, waiting for the request.
I lowered my voice. “How do I . . . I’m not sure how this works.”
He smiled kindly despite my ignorance. He leaned over the bar to point at the parlor. “Go in there, take a seat. Pay attention to the shoes”—he then placed a cold, short glass in my hand—“and drink this. It makes it easier.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, as he packed the cocktails on a plate and buzzed away as fast as a bee.
With my new literal handful of courage, I approached the parlor area.
As soon as I crossed into the threshold, the ringing began in my ears again.
Fine animals, finer people.
Everyone was dressed quite smart, quietly expensive.
If I’d learned anything from Phoebe and Mary, it was how to spot a nice fabric, despite slightly less flashy designs.
They were perfectly fit and draped, completely custom to each person.
And very clear that no one got dressed with fewer than four hands on them.
I sat in an empty chair along the wall directly next to a window. Somehow, this was a worse choice than standing by the wall; an irritatingly awkward choice for socializing. With one leg over the other, turning to my side to make friends with the gazelle standing to my right.
I would sit here for ten minutes, then leave. I was already beginning to get hot, embarrassingly so. Luka was cruel for bringing me along, only to abandon me.
The melodic ringing pierced my ears and pulled my head in the direction of a woman.
She sat by some other ladies, her posture relaxed yet still poised.
Her dress was baby blue, heavy pearls hung by her ears, her neck bare of any accessories.
The Scandinavian blonde brought her crystal-like eyes to life.
Her smile matched the melodic laugh. The sound rang in my ear almost as sharply as the song of her blood.
Tinnitus teemed, shooting itself through my body in the form of a shiver.
The woman’s shoe poked out from under her dress, a chalk number scrawled across the sole. A price.
This should be an easy venture. Easier than being the one selling, at least.
I took a deep inhale of the fumes of my drink, now realizing it was the signature green of absinthe.
A light tap on my shoulder.
“You look a bit lonely, darlin’.” The blue-shrouded woman’s voice was sweet like butterscotch, a southern charm. She held out her manicured hand. “Name’s Lucy.”
I could only manage a dry swallow as I shook it. Her skin was so soft, even a small iridescent quality to her palm lotion.
“Is this your first time here?” She walked her fingers up my shoulder before touching my face.
“It’s a first of everything, I’m afraid.
” For some reason, there was a flavor of shame to my words.
It wasn’t often I was so out of place, so inexperienced.
I felt much like a young woman trying to find my personality again.
I was wiped of my habits, most of my vices.
I wasn’t self-aware enough to know what my virtues may be aside from chemistry—which I may not be as good at as I’d thought, considering one of a few poisoning victims of mine was walking around this very Guild somewhere.
“Oh dear!” She held her laughter back behind a dainty fan. “It’s all right! You are in fantastic hands, if I do say so myself.” She perched herself on the arm of the chair.
“I think I will see myself out.”
“Don’t be silly.” She plucked the glass from me. “This is no good for a pleasant headspace, let me get you something else,” she teased with a wink, one of the staff already collecting the glass. “Gin,” she told him before turning to me, “you come off as a gin kind of girl.”
“Thank you.” I lowered my voice, but a bit more comfortable with company.
“Who are you with?” the woman asked.
“A friend brought me,” I said as I looked toward the entryway, “though I’m not sure where he went.”
“Well, now you’re here with me.” She smiled wide.
“Right.” I cleared my throat. I think conversation was harder than being hungry. “If you don’t mind me asking, do they pay well here?”
She raised a brow at the question.
“The . . . uhm. Working conditions. Are they fair?” I clarified.