Chapter 9

January 19^th, 2007, Thursday

Abby

“So, you really don’t mind...”

“Honey, I not only don’t mind, I think it’s a marvelous idea,” Donna said. “You should pursue an education as far as you wish.”

“I feel the same,” Yan said. “What universities are you considering?”

“It is very early in the game to think of higher education,” Abby replied, smiling. “I will require a lot of tutoring to even get a GED.”

“And you’ll get all the tutoring you need,” Jason mumbled, still very much out of it.

Abby ignored the tears in her eyes.

“It was silly of me to worry...”

“I don’t know,” Donna replied. “The rules under which you were raised ... I can understand your fears. How would House Bella Notte reacted if you’d expressed your wishes?”

“I would have been discouraged.”

“And if you persisted?” Donna asked gently.

“ ... I’d have been sold, probably into a House known to take a hard line with their ... with their slaves.”

Abby got up and poured herself a glass of juice.

“There was no formal policy – remember, it’s all voluntary, and at least lip service is paid to that – but in the rudimentary education we were given, we were taught to be exceedingly grateful for what we were taught, and that our place did not require we know anything more. To want more was to betray our service.”

“Life was fine and rosy, even when it wasn’t?” Lizzy asked.

“Oh yes, especially then,” Abby said. “Any situation involving surrogate mothering, whether in House or out, was a golden dream of perfection made real, or else.”

“Or else ... what?” Donna asked.

“This is only in Bella Notte ... I don’t know how girls sold out were treated. The abuse during pregnancies was only verbal ... emotional ... and kept to a minimum. But after the baby had been delivered? It got ugly. Still not as physical as in some Shadow Houses, but still very painful, very draining. And the emotional abuse was brutal. It was always delivered with a ‘more-in-sadness-than-in-anger’ vibe. They were our true parents - easy to sell if your mother was in service with you, not twenty feet away - and they didn’t enjoy correcting our attitudes, but that was their job, just as our job was being a surrogate brood mare.”

“It sounds fucking hellish,” Lizzy murmured.

“That’s the thing, sweetie,” Abby replied. “It wasn’t, oh, ninety-nine percent of the time. I grew up knowing my place, knowing I would always be employed, always be fed, clothed, receive medical care, have a roof over my head. That’s the contract I grew up in. The outside world ... it scared me. Still scares me, truth be told. Someone ... can’t remember her name, but she’d been purchased, and came back for a visit to Bella Notte, said it was kind of like working for a Japanese company in the old days – if you do your job, you will be taken care of. Period.”

“Whoa...” Lizzy said. “You dedicated your life to your House, and they got shitty when you wanted to improve yourself? You were a slave...”

“Yes, yes I was,” Abby replied. “When you bring money into a situation, ethics and humanity ... they fall by the wayside. Or at least they can ... I’m not sure how things go in other Shadow Houses.”

“From what I’ve heard,” Otter said, “it varies. I hear very good things about House Velacourt. And I’ve heard very bad things about House Camelia. Bella Notte seems to sit in the bottom ... oh, third of the pack.”

“Part of it’s just traditions, held on to for so long they’ve become part and parcel of the House,” Yan said, from where she’d curled up next to Jason, who had nodded off. “Though, to be fair, things change. Velacourt did not have a good reputation during most of the twentieth century. Now I’d say they’ve totally turned that reputation around. Camelia ... even if they turn themselves one-hundred-and-eighty degrees around, there’s way too much racial baggage for them to ever ... be considered clean, I guess.”

“So,” Donna said, “Chorale ‘recognizing’ the Shadow Houses...”

“Was one of the smartest political moves they could’ve made,” Yan replied. “To, figuratively, stick your fingers in your ears and go ‘la la la’ about the Shadow House situation is ... well, it’s ridiculous, and far too common. Houses want trained ‘racial or cultural fantasy’ subs. Hell, I want some myself. And your ... our House ... is a reformer House. If you’re pretending something doesn’t exist, you can’t bring as much pressure to bear concerning changes. Let them taste being welcome, and then you can insist on changes to remain welcome. It’ll be a long process, trust me. But then again, I’m from a House that believes in the long view.”

“But ... Chorale is just the ruling House of Waterloo, and Central Texas...” Donna said.

“Don’t kid yourself, Sugar Tits,” Yan replied, grinning. “Texas, the rulership of Texas, showed up, unasked, in support of Chorale in that mess back in San Francisco. Maybe none of those rulers has realized it yet, but Chorale is the face of Texas Society for the next ... quarter century at least, probably longer, given our plans for Sleeping Beauty there...”

“Our plans?” Donna asked.

“Your plans, which I have joined in, so yeah, ‘our’ plans. And Chorale may go higher still than that. So, yeah, the House is in position to bring pressure for change.”

“What ... what are we ... what are we talking about?” Jason said, surfacing from sleep.

“Nothing much, husband dear,” Donna replied.

“Yeah, just power politics, the future of Texas Society, how cute you are when you sleep,” Yan added.

But Jason had already sunk back into the depths of sleep.

Carol

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, staring out their suite’s windows at the ocean beyond.

Kenny Burns spoke from the door.

“Sure you have...”

“Why else would I have cut myself away from the herd?” Carol replied, turning to face him. “I certainly didn’t have to. I could have been in the safe room with my family.”

“A safe room ... well,” Kenny said, looking around, “I’m not surprised this place has one.”

“So, what now?” Carol said. “Kill me?”

“It’s why I’m here, witch...”

“But you know if you do, you’ll die. So now you’re asking yourself whether my life is worth yours, or would it be better to take a rain-check, take your shot at me another day, in another place.”

“Sure enough,” Kenny replied. “And I’m thinking a gun to your head would get me a ticket out of here.”

“It might,” Carol replied. “I’m honestly not sure if our security people would try for a head-shot on you with me close. Still, you are rather tall, and I’m very short.”

She examined him, hoping she was giving off a disdainful air, but really seeing if there was a spot her straight razor could be used effectively.

Ankles, and the Achilles tendons there, covered by well-broken-in combat boots. The camo fatigues he was wearing were made to be durable, and while she was sure her razor could cut through...

“Always remember,” Joe Coontz - the man Tony Juliana had hired to teach her - said, “the straight razor isn’t a dueling weapon. You get into a prolonged fight with an armed opponent, you could easily lose. If you remember what I’m teaching you, and practice it, you’re almost guaranteed one good attack – I believe you’ll get that attack, but things can and do go terribly awry. If that one attack goes as it should, you’ll get another. And if you’ve continued to follow your training, and practiced, that should be all you’ll need.”

So, not worth trying to attack through the camo.

The fatigue shirt’s collar was partially in the way, and might or might not be a problem, so a neck slice was iffy. He was wearing his hair high-and-tight, so possibly she could – if she jumped up – start a cut over the back of his neck, and trail it down the side of his throat.

“The straight razor, properly used, is a slicing weapon, and complex attack plans aren’t its strong point. I’m training you to know where to strike, and how to do so quickly. This is a quick flick style of combat, and your best chance is to aim for places where blood is close to the skin. Don’t telegraph your move – be explosive when the moment occurs, and be patient. Wait for that moment. You’ll know it when it comes, or I’m a lousy instructor.

“I don’t know why Mr. Juliana decided you should be trained with a razor as opposed to a more combat-worthy weapon, but he did, so that’s what I’m going to teach you.”

Carol had to be patient. Her moment would come, and when it did, she’d kill Kenny Burns, probably with no more regret than stepping on a scorpion.

Margo

“No, we will not leave you unprotected,” Alice said.

“You will go look for our wife, every last fucking one of you,” Margo growled, “and you’ll do so right goddamn now.”

“Margo!” Harry said. “Enough. Let them leave someone behind, and let’s quit wasting time arguing about it.”

Margo glared at her husband, but said, “Fine, you stay, Alice, but everyone else, go find Milady Carol.”

“Certainly,” Alice replied. She turned to the rest of her crew.

“Take no chances – either with your lives or Milady Carol’s.”

“Do you really think she’s in danger?” Kelly asked Margo.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Margo replied. “Not exactly sure how, but I’m certain she is.”

“One of those ‘too coincidental’ situations,” Harry added. “I can’t think of any reason for her not to be down here with us, other than her doing something stupidly brave and heroic.”

Kendry

“You don’t want the job?” she said, holding her head in her hands.

“Fuck no, boss,” Evangeline Jimenez said, sipping her drink. “No, mixin’ me an’ Madam Grimes, that’s like mixin’ jet fuel an’ napalm. Somebody, probably her, farts wrong, and it’s gonna be a big ol’ explosion...”

“Shit ... I told her you’d be perfect for the job.”

“Perfect if she can get over me jumpin’ up an’ slappin’ her arrogant bitch ass to the floor...”

“Are you sure you want to work here? For her?”

“I don’t work for her. I’m working for my Karghold. This is where I’ve been assigned, and I’m happy to be here, but boss ... when I fuck, I’m the one on top. Dominant as I can be, and while dealin’ with you is professional, she ain’t no security professional, her opinion ain’t shit, and I don’t put up with anything from anyone else – especially if they’re gettin’ between me an’ my job.

“How do you think she’d react to something like that?”

“You jumping up and slapping her?” Kendry mused. “It would be ... interesting.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Evangeline replied. “Another is ‘steaming shitshow from Hell’.”

“That’s more than one word, but okay. So, not you, then who?”

“What about Shaun?” Evangeline replied.

“Hadn’t been with us long...”

“Not much of a drawback from where I’m sittin’, boss. He did real good on our little jaunt to House Fruehauf, he’s got more experience in this type of job than most of us, exceptin’ you, of course.”

“Almost more than me,” Kendry said. “I was eliminating him from consideration because he had limited Chorale experience.”

“Boss, he comes from the Karghold, same as me. What else knocked him out of consideration?”

“He’s a... ‘he’. Which sex do you think is going to have an easier time with Madam Grimes?”

“So, you think you’ve had an easy time?”

“That’s besides the point. I just didn’t see things going as smoothly with a guy. Now, I could be wrong ... hell, for both their sakes, I hope I’m wrong...”

“So, you’re going to offer the post to Shaun?”

“Yeah ... since you’re too chicken-shit to take it,” Kendry replied, grinning.

“Oh, I’m chicken-shit? Tell ya what, let’s continue that discussion either over drinks, or on a mat in the gym.”

“I opt for drinks.”

“Wise move, boss. It’s never good when a subordinate hands the boss her ass.”

Carol

“So, what’s your plan for getting out of here alive?”

“Take you hostage, someone on the house staff, not security, drives us to a private airfield, I get on a jet, and leave.”

“You’ll just hop on a jet, and leave all of us alive? Leave me alive?”

“Yeah,” Kenny replied. “That’s the plan.”

“And we won’t have law enforcement track the jet, be waiting for you when you land why?”

He smiled, no, sneered at Carol.

“Because if the cops get their hands on me, oh, the song I’ll sing. Everywhere you and your filthy brood are, there will be cops crawling up your asses with flashlights. Feds too. We know a lot about you you don’t want anyone ... official ... ever hearing tell of.”

“Okay, let’s say I believe you...” She did, she knew he was telling the truth, but no sense letting him know that. “You’re going to want a private jet to fly you ... where?”

“Back to Waterloo, bitch. Where else?”

There was something there, some deception, but his answer wasn’t a lie, not exactly...

“So, we don’t go home, we avoid you altogether.”

“Bitch, you can’t stay away forever. Sooner or later, you’ll come home, and we’ll be waiting. And if it takes too long ... we’ll ... arrange something.”

The pit of her stomach went icy. Carol didn’t have to ask anything, she was certain she knew what he meant. If they stayed gone too long, someone at Chorale South would die ... and on top of that tragedy, there would be the police...
“Fair enough ... I’m sure we can obtain the use of a jet.”

“Okay, time to cuddle up real close, bitch. I hear footsteps...”

Harry

He was trying to remain calm ... and almost succeeding. However, Harry was successful at keeping his freak-out to himself.

“So that’s why you won’t call the police, and I see you’re recording this, so that’s why I’ll behave as well,” Kenny said. “I walk away, and we continue this game at another time, another place.”

“If you think we’re letting you go off with Carol, you’re crazy,” Harry said. “You leave her here, you have my word you’ll make it to the airport, onto the jet, and back to Waterloo, no problems, no complications.”

“Not a chance. Look, asshole, you’re lucky I’m not taking her back with me...”

“Enough, Harry. I trust he’ll let me go once he’s at the airport,” Carol said.

“And real close to the jet,” Kenny added.

“And close to the jet,” Carol amended. “I trust he’ll do what he says, Harry.”

Harry didn’t like it ... but if Carol said he could be trusted...
“All right,” Harry agreed. “Let me arrange the jet, no idea how long that’ll take...”

“Until we’re ready to head for the airport,” Kenny said, “the witch and I will be in a corner somewhere with nice thick walls behind us.”