Clementine stopped a few feet away from her door, clearly unwilling to take another step. Praying that her sister had misjudged the situation, Aster opened the door herself.
The room was dark except for the rectangle of light pouring in from the hallway. But even so, Aster could see the body on the bed. The man was massive, naked from the waist up, and sprawled on his stomach with thick limbs spread in an X. His skull glistened with blood, a rotten melon that had been kicked in. The broken glass of the lamp glittered on the floor.
Aster stared, as if waiting for him to get back up.
“It was an accident,” Clementine whispered again, almost pleading. “That’s what we’ll tell them, right? That it was an accident?”
Aster pulled Clementine inside and closed the door behind them, leaning against it, giving herself a heartbeat to think. It wouldn’t matter that it had been an accident. There would be no forgiveness for this.
“Clementine—” Aster’s mouth had gone dry. “We can’t tell anyone. If Mother Fleur finds out…”
She trailed off. Clementine had turned on the gasolier overhead, twisting the knob to full brightness. Horror pooled in Aster’s belly at the sight before her, the empty shine of the brag’s eyes and the silent scream of his slack mouth. There wasn’t a night that went by that she hadn’t fantasized about killing the men that came into her bed. A pistol kissed against their temples. Her hands wrapped around their throats. But they were just that—fantasies. The real thing left her sickened and stunned.
Still, she would rather Clementine kill this man a thousand times than risk him doing the same to her. It wouldn’t have been the first time a Good Luck Girl had gotten killed on the job because a brag got too rough.
Thank the dead I told her not to take the Sweet Thistle, Aster thought suddenly. Clementine never would have had the strength to defend herself if she’d been drugged.
For the briefest instant, Aster was almost proud. Her sister had shown the kind of courage Aster wasn’t sure she had anymore.
“I’m so sorry,” Clementine said at last, wiping her tears.
“Don’t be,” Aster said. “Don’t apologize, Clem. I’d rather it was him.”
Clementine sucked in a deep breath. “What do we do?”
Aster silently ran over their options. If anyone found out about this, Clementine would be put to death. That was for certain. Murderers in the Scab were hung high in a gibbet and left to the mercy of the vengeants, the most ruthless spirits this side of the Veil. A man might languish in that gibbet for days before the vengeants were drawn, irresistibly, to his suffering … but sooner or later they would always have him, splitting his belly with invisible claws and savaging his throat with unseen teeth. The crows would pick at the ruined body until the bones fell to the ground.
Aster would die herself before she let that happen to Clementine.
“All right,” she said, straightening. “All right, first we hide the body. Mother Fleur likes to check up on the new girls, make sure they’re doing right by their men. We can’t have her coming in and seeing yours like this.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know!” Aster snapped. She shot Clementine an apologetic look. “Sorry—I’m just—I’m working on it. But all I know for sure is that we need to get rid of this body.” She scanned the room. “The wardrobe,” she said. It was the best hiding space available.
After opening the wardrobe doors and shoving aside dresses to make room, they moved quickly, Clementine grabbing the brag’s ankles, Aster taking his wrists. But as they started to drag him, it became clear he was too heavy. Even if they could get him all the way off the mattress, they could never hold him up. His body would crash down on the floor and bring someone running. Clementine suggested they get Tansy and Mallow to help. Aster didn’t trust them with this secret. Clementine insisted she could. Aster finally gave in, all too aware of the time they were wasting arguing.
With as much composure as she could muster, Aster hurried to the attic. Clementine stayed behind to keep talking as if the brag were still alive, in case Mother Fleur listened at the door, like she was known to.
The attic was relatively empty—it was the busiest time of the night, and most of the daybreak girls would be needed on the floor. But Tansy and Mallow had finished their last shift after supper. They were both relaxing on Mallow’s cot, still in their livery, Mallow lying down with her head on Tansy’s knee. Tansy giggled over something Mallow said.
Aster marched over.
“Tansy! Mallow!” she barked. “You’re wanted downstairs.”
“And just what the hell for?” Mallow demanded.
“Just come with me,” Aster ordered. Then she leaned in and said softly, “Clem’s in trouble.”
Tansy and Mallow sobered immediately. They got up from the bed and followed Aster downstairs, through dimly lit hallways. Aster explained the situation in a whispered rush, stopping and forcing a smile the couple times they passed another girl.
Before opening the door to Clementine’s room, she paused a moment and glanced both ways to make sure no one was coming. “Listen,” she said. “If you want to turn back, now’s the time.” She held each of their gazes, one after the other. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be a part of this. So will Clem.”
A look passed between them. “We’re not going anywhere,” Mallow said first, turning back to Aster. “We can’t leave you alone with this.”
Tansy nodded. “She’d do it for us.”
Aster gave a quick, grateful nod back. Then she opened the door.
“Oh,” Tansy said softly, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Well, shit, Clem,” Mallow said under her breath, though she sounded more impressed than anything. “Remind me never to cross you.”
“It was an accident—” Clementine began.
“Never mind what it was,” Aster interrupted before her sister could get going again. She closed the door behind them. “Everybody grab a limb. We’re stuffing him in the wardrobe.”
Mallow rolled up her sleeves, exposing farm-strong forearms, while Tansy tugged her sleeves down over her hands, presumably to keep them clean. They grabbed the legs while Clementine and Aster grabbed the arms. Even with all of them working together, the body was still heavy and awkward to handle. They shuffled over towards the wardrobe. Luckily, it stood against the front wall, out of the line of sight from the doorway. So when the inevitable moment came and Mother Fleur opened the door—
“What’s the plan after this?” Mallow whispered, as if reading Aster’s thoughts. “They’re sure as hell going to notice when he doesn’t come downstairs.”
Aster had been thinking of nothing else. She still didn’t have any idea. Clem couldn’t stay here—not if she wanted to live—but there was no way to get her out of the welcome house, either, with Dex at the door. The only people let in and out of that door were paid customers.
The brags.
Like the one right here.
“Well?” Mallow prodded, her voice tight with effort.
Adrenaline surged through Aster’s body as an idea sparked through her. “Hold on, I’m thinking,” she said. “Rest him here for a second.”
The girls set the body down gently on the floor. Aster stared at the brag’s hand, coming out of his shirt cuff near where she’d gripped his arm. Like all guests, he’d gotten a temporary favor on the back of his hand on his way in—the welcome house emblem, a skull with roses growing through it. He’d have to show his hand to Dex on his way out. Proof that he’d paid for his pleasure. Then he was free to go.
“We’re going to run,” Aster said, with more confidence than she felt. “Me and Clem. We’re getting the hell out of here.” The brag’s favor would disappear once the time he’d paid for ran out. And, for all Aster knew, it might fade away any minute now that he was dead, too. But if they hurried …
Clem stared at her, eyes wide. “We are?”
“You can’t be serious,” Tansy
said. “You can’t get past Dex.”
Aster didn’t have the details all worked out yet. But she knew they had the most important thing they needed. “Yes, we can. Give me a minute to figure it out,” she said. “Clem, get your things. We’re bolting. No way you’ll survive if we don’t.”
“How?” Clementine said. “Where?”
“Out of the damn house,” Aster barked, breaking her whisper. She swallowed hard. “For now, just get ready.”
After one more moment of shock, Clem hurried over to her trunk.
Aster stood staring at the brag, desperately trying to puzzle out the rest of her plan. Mallow fished out a knife tucked in the brag’s boot, giving it an expert flourish. “I hope you don’t need this, but I’ll feel better if you have it,” she muttered. “Though I still don’t see what you’re thinking.”
“And you’re definitely going to need some shine,” Tansy added, pulling his theomite thumb ring free. “This ought to fetch you plenty.”
“How can we—” Clementine started.
But before anyone could say anything else, the doorknob turned with a soft rattle.
They’d been discovered.
4
Violet stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.
“I swear I knew you were up to something, Aster,” she said. “What the hell is going on here?”
Aster let out a low curse. Of all people. Violet, the one girl guaranteed to turn them in.
They had to get rid of her.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Aster said. “I’ll see you back downstairs in a minute.”
“Mallow? Tansy?” Violet continued, ignoring Aster. Her face reddened. “One of you better answer me. Clementine, where’s your brag?”
Clementine glanced at Aster, her desperation plain.
“He took off early,” Aster said evenly. They crowded the doorway enough that Violet wouldn’t see the body unless she looked past them. Aster couldn’t give her any reason to. “Went on over to Clooney’s,” she added. The gambling hall across the street. It was plausible enough. Not every man stayed the night.
“That’s right,” Clementine jumped in. “And after he left I decided I might as well go get my friends to … you know … just to have someone to talk to…”
Violet narrowed her eyes. “You mean your brag paid for a Lucky Night and left after twenty minutes? Was he that unsatisfied?” She took a step towards Clementine. “If you lost us that patron, Mother Fleur will have your hide—”
“Hey, easy,” Mallow said in a low warning.
“And you better get back upstairs before I let Mother Fleur know you’re wandering around without permission,” Violet added, rounding on her. “You, too,” she said to Tansy. “And look at the two of you, all a mess. Is this how you present yourselves?” Her eyes caught on something. “Tansy, what’s on your sleeve? It’s stained.” She stepped forward.
Aster now saw that a dark red splotch marred Tansy’s cuff.
“Nothing,” Tansy said, quickly moving her hands behind her.
“On Mother Fleur’s behalf, I demand—” Violet came in even closer as she spoke. Heart racing, Aster stepped forward to block her. But it was too late. Violet’s face shifted, wide eyes finding the blood on the bed and tracking it to its source. “What the—”
Aster’s hand shot out before she could even question herself, grabbing hold of Violet by the wrist. She yanked her inside and kicked the door shut. Violet let out a short, sharp cry as Aster held her pinned against it.
“What did you do to that brag?” Violet screeched. “Let me GO!”
“Quiet!” Aster said. She looked back over her shoulder, holding Violet’s upper arm against the door with one hand. “Mallow, the knife.” She held her free hand out for the weapon.
“Aster,” Clementine began.
“The knife.”
Mallow surrendered it wordlessly.
So this is what it feels like, Aster thought as she took the knife, the leather smooth beneath her fingers, the blade heavy in her hand. Something about it immediately stilled her frenzied mind.
Finally, she wasn’t helpless.
Violet stopped struggling and went quiet at the sight of the weapon. She desperately scanned the room. “What happened?” she asked again, softer.
No turning back now.
Aster held the knife up to Violet’s throat, pressing the flat of the blade against her skin.
“The brag is dead,” Aster said slowly, quietly. Her voice shook, but her hand was steady. “I killed him. It was an accident. Now me and Clem have to make a run for it.”
Clementine began to speak, but Aster shot her a warning glance. Let me handle this. If all else failed, at least Aster could take the blame.
“You expect me to believe that?” Violet choked out. “Clementine’s the one who was with him this whole time. And she looks a damn sight more rattled than you do.”
“Believe what you want. I don’t have time to convince you. But if you can’t convince me you’ll keep your mouth shut, I’ll carve your tongue out before we go.”
Aster sensed the others shifting uncomfortably. Violet met Aster’s dark stare. Weighed her words. When she answered, her voice was just above a whisper.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?” Aster snarled, pressing the knife deeper. She spoke roughly in hopes of hiding the fact that, in truth, she wasn’t sure she had the stomach to follow through on her threat.
But she had to. Or Clementine would be killed.
She drew a jeweled bead of blood just below Violet’s favor.
“All right, all right, stop!” Violet hissed.
“Quiet,” Aster reminded her.
“You’re serious about leaving?”
“As the dead.”
“You take me for a fool? If there was a way to run, don’t you think I’d know? Don’t you think other girls would run all the time?”
“Other girls don’t have what we have.”
“A death wish?” Even now, up against the wall with a knife to her throat, that condescending tone never quite left her voice.
Aster hesitated. It felt wrong to tell Violet anything about their plan. But, at this point, it didn’t really matter.
“The brag’s hand. We can cut it off, use it to get past Dex.”
The dead body was the only answer to the problem it had created for them.
“Ripping hell,” Mallow muttered after a moment. “You’re right.”
Violet’s brow furrowed. “That … might actually work…”
Aster drew a breath and backed up a step. “Go on and sit on the bed,” she said to Violet, gesturing with the knife. “I think you know you’re not leaving this room until you convince us we can trust you.”
Violet walked to the bed as straight and proper as ever. She perched on the edge.
“I’m still working out the details,” Aster said, looking at Clementine, Mallow, and Tansy, who were all staring at her. “But that’s the basic idea: Clem and I use the hand to get out.”
Mallow looked at Tansy. A wordless question passed between them. Tansy gave her a subtle nod and turned to Aster.
“Take us with you.”
“No way,” Clementine jumped in before Aster could reply. “I won’t have you all killed because of us. Bad enough we asked this much of you.”
“She’s right,” Aster agreed, relieved they felt the same. “We have no idea what to expect out there, and the law’s going to be on our tail the whole time. We’re only running because we have to. But no one else knows you all are involved—you can still walk away from this.”
Mallow scowled. “So, what, me and Tanz stay here, give up our one shot of getting out of this place?” she asked. “I don’t think so. I’d rather die on the outside tomorrow than live out the rest of my days in here.”
“I feel the same,” Tansy said quietly.
Violet shifted. Aster immediately raised the knife. But Violet held up her hands in surrender.
“Take me with you,” she breathed. “I want to run, too.”
Aster laughed. “Right.”
“Take me with you!” Violet repeated desperately.
“And why in the hell should we? After all your years of bullshit?”
“Please.”
Violet had never said “please” to any of them. What’s she playing at? Aster looked at the others, but Clementine, Tansy, and Mallow seemed just as mistrustful.
“Some sort of trick,” Tansy muttered.
“It’s not a trick!” Violet insisted. “I want out.” Then she set her mouth. “Either you take me with you, or I tell Mother Fleur everything.”
“Or I cut your throat,” Aster reminded her.
“Better than living like this.”
Aster felt a flicker of doubt. If it had been anyone else, Aster would’ve believed them, no question. But Violet? Mother Fleur’s favorite girl? The one who never shut up about how much she loved Green Creek? No, something wasn’t right.
By the Veil, we don’t have time for this—
“Besides, you need me,” Violet continued.
“For what, exactly?” Clementine asked, sounding equally unconvinced.
“I know things, things Mother Fleur doesn’t tell the rest of you.”
“You’d only slow us down,” Mallow spat. “Pampered little princess—”
Violet showed her teeth. “Dustblood scum—”
“Shut up. All of you,” Aster broke in. She didn’t trust Violet any more than the others did, but they couldn’t keep arguing. Mother Fleur could be here any second. And even if cutting Violet’s throat was clearly the only sure way of keeping her quiet, Aster still felt sick at the idea of it. Unlike the brag, Violet was an innocent—an insufferable, selfish shrew, yes, but an innocent.
She had to make a decision.
Aster dropped her voice to a low warning and raised the knife once more. “You do anything to try to sabotage us, and I will make you sorry.”
* * *
Once again, Aster circled the reception room. This time, though, she was the hunter, not the prey. She needed to find a guest who was still unattended, and she needed to do it quickly, before Violet came downstairs disguised as Clementine’s brag.
The Good Luck Girls Page 4