Belladonna - Inbetween Books (Patreon)

The mists had dissipated and the bodies that had piled up could have formed a wall.  It wasn’t as if Belladonna cared. She had known the kind of show that Kavatti had run and suspected that what lay within her little fog filled domain was not going to be anything less than a horror show.  But, the sheer amount of it did surprise her.  Most were decaying by now, others crushed bones beneath the weight of the dead.  Belladonna looked at them all with the same kind of dispassionate gaze that one might give while picking up tea towels.  This wasn’t where she wanted to be, after all.

“Well this is a tad bit different.”

Belladonna’s eyes narrowed. The voice was unfamiliar and it was certainly one that she was not in the mood to welcome. She had suspended all meetings to this point.  Not wishing to deal with the petty plights of the Night Market citizens.

“My office hours are closed,” she said curtly, not even looking towards the man.

“From what I understand, they are always closed.”

She turned to look at the newcomer with an impassive gaze. He was a tall man with russet skin and dark eyes.  A long plum colored coat was swung across his shoulders, sitting in contrast to the black corset and skirt he wore, both accented in gold.

“Who are you?”

“Deucalion Gray,” he said with a bowed flourish. “At your service. Well, not your service precisely.  I more come with a message.”

“And that message being?”  She’d give him one minute. One minute and she’d either kill him or walk away entirely.

The man stared at her for a long beat, making sure he had her attention. “He’s not here.”

Belladonna’s gaze hardened.

“Now, before you pin me to the wall– oh, you’re going to just do that anyway.” Deucalion was slammed back against the cathedral, Belladonna’s long fingers a pale grip around his neck.  She flexed her grip on the man, a snarl curling her lip. “I can’t die, darling, so even if you rip my head off it will be a waste of time and only get your pretty clothes all a mess. Clothes, I might add, that are fabulous.”

“Where is he?” she demanded. Milo Next. The bane of her existence and the little shit that had somehow evaded her within the market. No one slipped beneath her gaze, so just how was a street rat like Milo managing to do so.

“Now that, I don’t know. He was smart enough to send the message through several channels. I take it he is a paranoid bastard? I have been paid handsomely to come tell you that he’s gone, however.”

“And if you value your life, you are going to tell me all about those channels,” Belladonna hissed, her eyes burning crimson.

“Again,” he said with a grimace. “Cannot die. It is why most hire me. A rather large bargaining chip gets taken away when you do not have the ability to cease to exist.”

“There are other ways to inflict pain, dear heart.”  Her fingers bruised his skin, just to make a point.  Deucalion nodded, looking as if he was rather impressed by the display, but still not moving to correct what she clearly saw as a faux pa.

“Look, you can keep doing what you’re doing. I get paid no matter what. But, what I am trying to tell you, is he isn’t even going to see your handiwork. Nor care, I suspect. So, you are kind of tipping over into that territory where you have no reason for your destruction other than throwing a bit of a temper tantrum.”

The way in which Deucalion’s body crumpled against the opposite side of the courtyard gave a satisfying crunch. One Belladonna would have once greatly appreciated.   Today, it all just felt hollow.  Deucalion groaned as he rose to his feet, staring at the vampire from across the way.  Belladonna could feel her bones cracking, her fingers curling into a mimicry of talons and her skin itching to burst from the form she often kept hidden beneath.

“I have a proposition for you,” he told her, stumbling to his feet. “See, you are the eyes and ears of the Night Market. The queen, really.  You have very little dealings with the outskirts, however. The Outlands are an untapped territory for you, yes?  Not for me.  If this Milo ran anywhere, it’s most likely out there.  Hire me and I’ll find him.”

“Why should I hire you for anything? You have just proven you are nothing more than an underhanded messenger who plays for the highest bid. Who is to say he won’t just offer you more for your silence?”

Deucalion grinned. “You could pay me more than he could ever afford to avoid that.  Or, you could simply trust that I will always see my job through. That’s what I’ve done here. I was hired to deliver the message. Now, you can hire me to track down where that message came from.”

Belladonna stared at him.  It was more than perhaps she had.  It was also the only lead that didn’t require her to continue just watching the market burn. Her heart would not be pleased when they returned.  That soft and gentle nature of theirs would look at the burnt remains of Belladonna’s anger and be displeased.  In the end, Belladonna was struggling to care, however.

Feeling her bones recede, and her body settle once more, Belladonna rolled her shoulders.  The night was cool and the courtyard dark aside for the light of the fake moon.  So much stock had been put into the moon once.  Then the lanterns. Belladonna was starting to wonder if she had slipped somewhere along the way. Began to trust that everything would work as it was supposed to.  The night of the ball had proven that not to be true.

With a sigh, she began walking towards the cathedral.  Her charges were watching, their eyes staring at her from the dark as she stepped over the brittle bones of bodies that had long ago departed. When she reached the double doors, she looked over her shoulder at the curious man. It was refreshing to have one not afraid of her.

“Are you coming?”

He feigned tipping a hat towards her before following her inside.  Belladonna would decide, after he was done with the job of course, whether she would destroy him or not for even trying to leverage his position.  While this Deucalion Gray may not be able to die, it did not mean he had the privilege of living.

“I think we will work well together,” Deucalion said.

“I think you should learn when to speak.”

He mimed zipping up his mouth, locking it and throwing away the key.

Belladonna rolled her eyes. Another con man. Joy.  As Baron, she wondered if she would be able to rid the market of them.

Tipping her gaze up to the lanternless sky, she wondered if there would even be a market to rule much longer.