Naked City: Tales of Urban Fantasy

“Looking for St. Vier?” Rosalie said bluntly. She’d never liked Luxe that much.

Luxe grinned. He had good teeth. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“No reason. Everyone else is. But you just got lucky.”

In they came, St. Vier and Alec, walking close together. Alec’s head was up, and he was laughing. St. Vier had that half smile, listening to him.

Everyone got quiet, not even trying to pretend they hadn’t been talking about them.

St. Vier’s polite. He nodded to the room. Actually, he was checking it out—and as Alec stepped up to the counter and ordered a beer, St. Vier grabbed him by the elbow and steered him back.

“Again?” said Alec.

“Again,” his friend said.

Luxe smiled. “St. Vier.”

Steffi moved in, all tits and curls. “You remember my boy Luxe, Richard, right? Here he is, come to pay us a visit.”

Luxe didn’t even do her the courtesy of telling her to shut up. He just kept on talking. “Will you take my challenge?”

“On behalf of his lordship, here?” St. Vier asked. “Because if you’re just showing off, I’d rather not.”

Luxe straightened up, and you saw the nobleman’s house servant that he’d learned to be. “I bear challenge. To the Tremontaine heir.” He nodded at Alec, who was busy picking at a loose thread on his cuff. “That him?”

St. Vier shifted his weight, cutting Luxe off from Alec just a little more. “Don’t try.”

“Guard, then.” Luxe drew. There was sweat on his upper lip already. He had good form, though. People spread out, and the bets got going. I was taking as many as I could, so I missed some of the action. Then Steffi was moaning, “No no no no no no no,” and Rosalie had her arms wrapped around her. St. Vier had Luxe pinned to the floor, sweating, his blade at his throat. The throat, not the heart.

St. Vier said, “Alec?”

Alec was sweating, too, pushing hair back from his face. “What?”

“Ask him. Ask him who sent him.”

We couldn’t believe it. If there’s one thing swordsmen don’t do, it’s ask that question. The patron pays, the patron calls the shots and protects whoever’s working for him, so you keep your mouth shut. That’s the rules.

“I don’t care who sent him! They can all go to hell.”

“So do I kill him, then?”

Steffi screamed.

“Hell, no,” Alec said. “What for?” And turned away.

He walked on out of the tavern, and St. Vier followed him. We all stood staring at the man on the floor.

“Shit,” Luxe said. He was shaking and he wouldn’t get up. “Oh, shit.”

* * *

The next day, I had my great idea. I waited for Alec on the street, not in Rosalie’s, where everyone would see us. I waited til I saw him out with his basket to do his marketing, and I went up to him and I said, “Look, here’s the thing.”

He looked down his long nose at me. Way down. I can’t help if I’m short. “Yes,” he said, “I can see that.”

I ignored the dig. You just have to. I said, “You want a message to someone? Someone up on the Hill, maybe? Something you want to say but not write down?”

He just looked at me. But not in that sneery way. His chin went down a little, listening. He had the weirdest eyes.

“You can trust me.” I tried not to talk too fast, which is something people say I sometimes do. But it was hard with those eyes and him not saying anything back. “Say you make them an offer. A hundred royals, a thousand, I dunno; what’s it worth to them?” He snorted. “Look, you don’t want it; they do. So why not benefit? You save everyone a lot of grief and make a profit. Good for them, good for you, and everyone gets what they want.”

He said slowly, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Well, of course he hadn’t.

“Just say the word,” I told him. “I’m your man.”

“Are you?”

The way he looked at me then … If I’d ever doubted he was really one of them, I didn’t anymore. It wasn’t just his eyes, it was his voice. Something curious and measuring, like he was checking me out for position of third footman on the left or something. I’m your man.

That’s not how I’d meant it, either. I just meant it the regular way.

“I know you’re a fair-minded guy, so I won’t even name a price. I just—well, you know where to find me.”

He nodded, turned, and walked away.

* * *

Richard met Alec on the stairs coming up. It was too dark for Alec to see how bloody the swordsman’s shirt was, but he could smell it.

“Don’t go up,” Richard said. “There’s a dead man in there.”

“In there?” Alec pointed with his chin to their door at the top of the stairs. He was carrying a basket of fruit. The first cherries were in from the country, and he’d spent far too much on them.

“It’s a mess,” Richard said. He walked Alec back down the narrow stairs. “I’ll tell Marie to clean it up.”

Down in the courtyard, Alec could see the corners of the swordsman’s mouth were white. “I’ll tell her.”

Marie was white, too. “I didn’t,” she said. “I swear.”

“Didn’t let the poor bastard in? I should think not.”

“We know you hate cleaning up blood, Marie. It’s all right.”

“But who?” she said. “Who told them where you live?”

“Everyone knows where we live,” Alec drawled. “It’s a wonder they didn’t try it before. Maybe they did and got sick of waiting last time. Don’t worry about it.”

“How much longer?” Richard asked, when she’d gone upstairs with her pail and some rags and sent a boy to find someone to remove the body.

“Seven days,” Alec said. “And then they’ll stop sending you new toys to play with.”

“I don’t like them messing up the house.”

“Neither does Marie. I’ll draw her another bucket of water. She appreciates these little gestures.”

“I think,” St. Vier said, “we’ll sleep at Rosalie’s tonight.”

* * *

What was I doing out that night? Trying to earn a living, same as everyone else. The job finished early, and I was headed to Rosalie’s for a drink. I wasn’t trying to spy on anybody. But I saw that guy Alec come out Rosalie’s back door, the one nobody uses, alone. He had a lantern. The moon was good enough for me. Alec was moving fast, but a moment later I saw St. Vier come out the same door. He didn’t have a light, and I thought he’d catch up to Alec soon enough. But he didn’t. St. Vier wasn’t really dressed, either—shirt unlaced, jacket unbuttoned—though he did have his sword in his hand. He strapped it on as he walked, slowly and quietly, following the man with the lantern.

It didn’t take a wizard to know something was up. I should’ve turned around and gone straight into the tavern, maybe. But I thought, Who knows? Maybe they’ll need backup. So I followed them.

Alec went to the river, across from the University. Good, I thought. He’s finally going back to where he came from! But he just stood on the bank, looking over. St. Vier stayed in the shadows, looking at Alec. When Alec moved closer to the water, St. Vier got tense, like he was thinking the beanpole might throw himself in. But then Alec moved on, walking along the embankment, trailing his hand along the low wall like it was some giant pet.

When the wall petered out he swung back into Riverside, passing through the old market, which was pretty much empty except for a few people who’d built themselves a fire to keep out the chill and the spooks til dawn. They glanced up when Alec passed, trying to make themselves small, not to be noticed. He didn’t even look. St. Vier