Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

THE DEAL

Hugo could smell Evan on his skin. He could taste his lips, hear his moans of pleasure and feel his flesh against his own. As he walked through the deserted streets of the Eltham District, he tried to commit the sensations to memory. If he had been displaying his usual awareness, he might have thought the lack of other foot traffic odd. As it stood, he was too busy fretting about his impending parting with Evan.

It was only when he arrived at Southside that he noticed something was amiss. Like an honour guard at a funeral, there were lines of people standing next to the entrance, five on each side. Half of them he recognised; the other half he did not.

“Carla, what’s going on?” he said to a tall White woman with a bleached buzzcut, standing like private security in front of the restaurant.

She shook her head and nodded towards the door, gesturing him inside.

The interior was as deserted as the exterior. The public areas were dark and empty, lacking entirely the usual hustle and bustle of the busy dining room. Only the atrium and the lift within were lit.

Instead of Hann or one of the other concierges, it was Bobby that waited next to the doors. They looked uncharacteristically serious, dressed all in back and without the make-up they usually wore. Bobby without bright red lips didn’t look quite right to Hugo. It was yet another thing that added to his sense of unease.

They called the lift and stepped inside. Hugo followed suit. It wasn’t until the doors closed that they spoke.

“If things go south, are you ready, soldier?” Bobby clapped him on the shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

“The Kellys wanna talk. They suffered heavy casualties last night, maybe they’re rethinking their little war. Dill is here,” they added slyly.

“In the flesh? Arrogant bastard. You think Sam will order a kill?”

“Not with the amount of heavies in here. Don’t shit where you eat.”

“Shame. That’d be quite a badge of honour.”

They lapsed into silence as the elevator neared its destination.

“If tonight goes peaceful, you and I need to talk.”

Hugo nodded but didn’t reply.

The doors opened with a high-pitched ding . Like the street below, the room was filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces in equal measure.

“Game time.” Bobby rubbed their hands together and made a beeline for Samuel’s office. They opened the door and held it for Hugo but didn’t follow him inside.

The scene that faced him was one of the tensest he had ever experienced. Samuel was sitting on the guest seat in front of his desk, flanked by Alice. Behind his desk, in his usual chair was Dill Kelly, the head of the Kelly family flanked by a White man with brown hair that Hugo knew to be called Lewis Avery.

Dill Kelly was a very large man, both in bulk and height. He was White with iron-grey hair and the kind of countenance that spoke of brutality. Hugo could tell instantly that he was a man who enjoyed inflicting pain. He and Samuel had that in common.

“You can go now, kitten,” Samuel said, waiving Alice away and beckoning Hugo to his side. Hugo felt the anger rolling off Alice in waves as she left the room. She knew better than to speak out of turn in a situation like this, but there would be hell to pay for the slight later.

“Now you have suitable protection, are you happy to proceed?” Dill Kelly asked lazily. He looked over Hugo and it was clear he was no more impressed with him than he had been with Alice. Hugo didn’t care; it was Dill’s mistake. Hugo knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could end the man in front of him and his bodyguard without breaking a sweat.

“And how shall we do that? List our slights against the other?” Samuel crossed his hands in his lap. “That’ll take all night.”

“We have been at each other’s throats since your history began, but if we let things continue this way, the streets of Tenebrium will run red with blood.”

“Yours, not ours. Last night proved that.” Samuel’s lips twisted into a wicked smile.

“Watch your tongue. I am a legend in this city, and you are a mere whisper. A rumour in the dark. Do not test my reputation, I assure you I will live up to it in full.” Bloodlust oozed from Dill Kelly.

Hugo subtly crossed his arms over his chest so that his hand was nearer his gun in its holster at his side.

“What do you propose?” There was no fear or caution in Samuel’s voice and that worried Hugo more than Dill Kelly ever could. It was clear Sam was more than willing to test the Kellys, fully prepared to accept whatever bloodshed followed. If the offer wasn’t good enough, they were going to war. Blood was just another currency to Sam.

“I will admit, within this room and no other.” Dill’s eyes raked over all present, an obvious threat. “The attack on your people last night wasn’t sanctioned.”

Samuel raised his eyebrows. “Even legends aren’t immune to mutiny, it seems.”

“Don’t test me, Conti. If you want a war, we can start one here and now and I will paint the walls of this fucking office red with your blood.” The air between the two men seem to crackle with animosity.

“It was a statement, not a slight.” Samuel shrugged, unconcerned.

“Then I suggest you choose your words more wisely next time. I have an offer to make. A war between us would be bloody and there are people in our inner circles—people we both answer to—who wouldn’t like it. I’m not willing to risk their wrath and if you’re smart, you aren’t either.” Samuel gave a noncommittal sort of shrug and Dill went on. “Your people killed those responsible for the attacks and I will hand over any survivors. We will also step away from box jobs?—”

“All box jobs?”

“Sometimes, a motherfucker has to die. No, not all, but any that are not interfamily.”

“You’ll step back from civilian contracts?” Samuel raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yes, and if any are requested, we’ll send them your way.” Dill gestured across the desk with open palms.

“In exchange for?”

“You can keep your casinos, but I want you to step away from the brothels.”

“I heard you had bought into Ward Eight.” Samuel nodded.

“You get to corner the killing market; I get to corner the sex market. We will make amends for the attack by handing over those responsible, on the condition that the fact it wasn’t sanctioned never comes to light. And you and I will stop interfering in each other’s operations.”

“You want a truce?” Samuel smiled wide; it was a predatory thing.

“I just want to agree to stay out of each other’s way.”

“Why? Your family is considerably larger. We might be better trained, but the odds are in your favour. I took you for a gambling man.” Samuel was enjoying needling the larger man, it made Hugo uneasy.

“Don’t fuck with me,” Dill spat, showing real anger for the first time. “There are much bigger things afoot than our petty squabbles. You either get with the programme or you get dead. Vinny Russo thought he was invincible, but we all watched him swing.”

“That was?—”

“He was drawing too much attention to himself.”

“Best we don’t make the same mistakes, then. I agree to your terms; but cross us in any way…” Samuel let the threat dangle in the air for a moment.

“Same to you, friend. So much as a peep on your side and we will destroy you.”

Dill stood abruptly, towering over the desk. Hugo expected Samuel to follow suit, but he merely leaned back in his chair and placed his feet on the desk. “The names?” he asked casually.

“Ava Hill, Brent Baker, and Aram Fitzroy.” Dill moved over to Samuel. Hugo subtly positioned his body between them, but Dill merely reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper which he dropped into Samuel’s lap.

“You’re selling your soul then?” Samuel asked, ignoring the paper. The question had no edge, it was earnest; the first genuine thing said in the whole interaction, though it didn’t make any sense to Hugo.

“Too late for that.” Dill chuckled darkly.

“Hail Khrysos,” Sam said with an air of resignation that Hugo didn’t understand.

“Hail Khrysos.”

Hugo didn’t relax until Dill Kelly was safely out of the building with his men.

“Thoughts?” Samuel asked when they were finally alone in his office.

“Who or what is Khrysos?”

“I didn’t ask about that, I asked for your thoughts on the truce.” There was a danger to Samuel’s words that warned Hugo of dire consequences should he mention ‘Khrysos’ again.

“I’m surprised you agreed to it, if I’m honest,” Hugo said carefully.

“You think a war is inevitable?” His tone was light once more.

“You want to rule the city, and you can’t do that with Dill Kelly around.”

Samuel nodded and stood, making his way around the desk to reclaim his usual seat.

“If I asked you to walk out of this room and kill the man, would you?”

“Yes,” Hugo said without hesitation.

“Good.” Samuel gave a slight smile, a nod, then said, “Be nice to Alice if you see her. It’s not a night to feel her claws.” He handed Hugo the scrap of paper.

“When do you want these done?”

“Tonight, and like I said, share with Alice.”

The penthouse was oddly empty after the swathe of Kelly’s had left. Now, there were only two occupants in the vast space. Bobby and Alice.

Bobby looked entirely relaxed where they had settled themself in an armchair with a thick leather tome. Alice looked murderous. Just for a second, Hugo could have sworn her eyes seemed to glow red.

“No fight?” Bobby asked looking up from their page.

“No war just yet, but we have some names.” Hugo handed the list over to Bobby. “Alice, I’ve got a name for you if you’re interested.”

Her head turned so sharply, Hugo thought he heard a snap. “Ava Hill.”

“Why do you always give me the women? Won’t fuck ‘em, won’t kill ‘em?” So, it was Hugo she intended to take her anger out on.

“We need to talk,” Bobby said before Hugo could respond. “Before you go on the hunt.”

“Excuse me—” Alice began, affronted.

“Dad has ordered a hit. Get to it.” Bobby waved a hand towards the elevator.

“He’s not my dad,” she snarled.

“You have your name, and you know how to use the datastream. Now leave, Hugo and I need to have a chat.”

Positively radiating malintent, Alice stalked from the room. Hugo knew she had crossed the line into serial killer some time ago. She enjoyed the kill far too much to be considered a professional anymore; each of her jobs were works of passion. Hugo was sure she had killed without orders on several occasions now. The trouble was, she was becoming unable to hide it. Bloodlust dripped from her, and Hugo didn’t want to be there when it boiled over.

“You’ll pay for that later,” Hugo muttered.

“Probably. Now talk.”

“Not here,” Hugo said looking around. He was sure they were alone, but he wouldn’t risk discussing Evan in the lion’s den.

They made their way outside and across the street to an adjacent building where Bobby lived with their partner. The apartment was large and well furnished, reflecting Bobby’s status within the family.

“Is Dana home?” Hugo asked, glancing around the living room.

“She’s playing tennis with her sister.”

The apartment was like a second home to Hugo. Bobby had lived there as long as he could remember, and Hugo had spent as much time there as in his own apartment. Some of his happiest memories took place there.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and holster, throwing them both over the arm of the chaise lounge that sat parallel to the window. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and waited for Bobby to speak.

“He’s not dead, is he?” Bobby poured themself a drink from the cart in the corner then dropped into an armchair.

“No.”

“Then we are done. I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Bobby—”

“You are risking everything, including me, for someone you’ve known for—what? Two months? And you can’t even tell me why. Do you love him? Or think you love him?”

“I don’t...” Hugo shook his head unsure of what he was trying to say.

“Christ, you are such a child.” They raked a hand through their hair.

“You married Dana a month to the day you met her.”

“Go fuck yourself with that,” they snapped, firing up at once. “She is the love of my life, she’s my wife. We’ve been together for over a decade. She’s my partner in everything. Don’t you fucking dare. You do not get to compare what she and I have to this schoolboy crush.”

“It’s not?—”

Again, Bobby cut across him. “Yes, it fucking is. It’s a schoolboy crush. You’re thirty years old, but you never matured past sixteen. Not emotionally at least. You’ve got that ooey-gooey highschooler in love for the first time look. You’ve never really connected with another person, right? Never felt so drawn to someone? You’ve fucked for fun, but never really let someone in.” The words mocked him.

Hugo nodded almost imperceptibly, his cheeks reddening. “He’s in.”

“The kill has been your whole life and now you finally want something for you. I’d say great if it wasn’t for the fact that that ‘thing’ is going to get us all killed. It’s puppy love—nothing more, and if you don’t finish the job?—”

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“This is a dangerous time to be going soft, Ford.”

“Take a shot. Let’s find out how soft I’ve gotten.” He smiled through the threat.

“Wouldn’t dream of it with the old you…but this new guy…I like my chances.” They raised their drink as if toasting Hugo, then took a sip.

“Fuck you. He’s leaving, all right? I’m going to set him up in Caligo.”

“Good. Do it and soon, because the next time I lay eyes on him, he’s dead.”

“Don’t threaten him,” Hugo growled.

“Until he’s gone or six feet under, you and I are over.”

Hugo nodded, his jaw clenched painfully tight.

“Dangerous time to forget your loyalties. If Sam ever finds out, I will throw you to the pack, Little Wolf. You’re on your own.”

“Sam won’t find out, and if he did, I’d protect you.”

“Good luck with that.” Bobby examined their fingernails for a moment as if trying to decide whether or not they should speak.

“What is it?”

“I did a little digging into your boy toy. I didn’t find anything exactly, but something isn’t right. I can feel it, and I bet if you stopped thinking with your dick, you’d feel it too.”

As it turned out Brent and Aram were a couple, which made tracking them down much easier for Hugo. They lived together in a rundown apartment near Evan’s now vacant one. Hugo wondered absently if he should pick up some of Evan’s things, but then again, he would only need them if he was staying, which he wasn’t. Hugo dismissed the thought and pressed on.

Making no attempts at subtlety, Hugo kicked the shoddy door down into the studio apartment. Evidently Dill didn’t pay as well as Samuel, or perhaps the couple just weren’t very valued.

Brent, a Black man with bald head and a waxed moustache, was on his knees next to the smallest double bed Hugo had ever seen. Upon it lay a heavily wounded man with pale brown skin and short dark hair. He was glistening with sweat as his fingers gripped the bedsheets in pain.

Brent didn’t look up as Hugo burst into the room, he kept keenly focused to his task. He was attempting to sow a gnarled and ragged stomach wound shut with a basic needle and thread. Hugo knew Alice’s handiwork when he saw it. She loved to use serrated blades for their flesh ripping qualities.

“Please let me finish this, then you can do whatever you want.”

“There’s no point in finishing.”

Hugo pulled his gun from his jacket and aimed it at Aram where he lay, slowly bleeding out on the sheets, and fired. The single shot hit him cleanly in the heart. A tiny smile flickered across his face before the light left his eyes, as if death was a welcome release.

Brent roared in rage and lunged for Hugo, but he was dead before he could take a second step. He fell to the carpet with a muted thud , a tiny round hole with black edges just above his left eyebrow.

Hugo didn’t bother closing the door as he left. As he made his way back home, he replayed everything in his mind. His conversations with Bobby and his time with Evan. Did he feel it? Was something amiss? Again and again, he turned the events over in his head trying to fathom his own feelings and then something hit him, something he had been ignoring but couldn’t any longer. Bobby was right.