5. Deacon
Mitch tossed his head back, blowing out a puff of smoke. He laughed with a high-pitched giggle that made Mercury smile. The girls around him loved it, and they crawled over him while he hooked his arm around one, and grinned. Once upon a time Mitch was drugged up raver. He was still a drugged up raver, but now he was getting paid for it.
She saluted him with what was left of her drink, and he blew her a kiss. Mitch always acted like an over-confident fuck when he was high. She found her glass being very lightly snatched away.
"Princess," Racquel whispered warmly, the blood leaving a red stain on her lips. She smelled like blood, alcohol and smoke. She wrapped her arms around Mercury, hands gently rubbing her waist.
"So Deacon's thinkin' about putting me on his personal security team," Mitch was bullshitting, as Mercury tasted Racquel's lipstick. Racquel nipped her lips and sucked hard, lapping the blood welled up. Her own blood tasted like molten sugar, but that wasn't quite it. Racquel was sensual and her mouth was wet as she licked all the way up her neck and pushed her down onto the length of the couch. Racquel was straddled her waist. She was beautiful, but put on layers of makeup to cover it. Her cropped red hair and fringe made her look like an Egyptian princess. Mercury felt a type of drugged euphoria as Racquel forced her head to the side, and made her stare at a girl jacking Mitch off.
There was more licking, and then she felt her skin break almost too easily, as if her body wanted to be bled. Mercury closed her eyes. Racquel's tongue was running over the cut again and again and again.
Remember when the debt collectors were knocking at your door and,
"Mercury."
She opened her eyes to see Seth standing in front Mitch.
"Deacon wants to see you."
---
Remember when the debt collectors were knocking at your door, and you told your boss you needed some cash. He was zipping up his pants with a satisfied smirk, but you just felt empty. He said, "Here you go," tucking a hundred down your bra. He said, "For services rendered," and you were just happy you had enough to get through a few days.
Frost looked up from the desk. "Who the fuck are you?" He sounded pissed off, and said it with the righteousness of a king lounging in his leather throne. She's only ever seen Frost in two moods.
Maybe it's the stark bleached hair. Or the fact she's out of uniform. Or maybe it's because she's a woman, and she's only seen him do two things with women.
"You asked to see me," she said. "Mercury."
"Mercury," he gave her a sceptical look and waved her into a chair. "Sit down." He casually pulled out a cigarette from a packet, and lit it with a disposable lighter. He leant back in his chair to smoke, throwing the objects onto the glass table.
This was the first time she'd been so close to him since her transition, and Deacon Frost looked exactly the same as she had first seen him, but so did she. Here was a man who was opening up businesses by the hour, buying out most of the downtown land and had recently bought a fucking skyscraper with his very own lavish penthouse. He was gaining followers and familiars by the second, and he made the House of Erebus twitchy. Deacon Frost was a legend.
The seconds ticked by. He smoked the cigarette with precise movements, getting no apparent joy from it. "So tell me, why are you still working for me? Good hours, good pay, good health plan, what? Fuck, your whole team got killed a week ago."
Mercury blinked. What kind of fucking question was that? What the hell was she supposed to say? What did he expect her to say? And she was working for him, and getting paid well for it. The best thing that happened to her was becoming a vampire.
"Because it's interesting," she began.
He was suddenly harsh. "Don't insult my intelligence."
"You're interesting. Your ideas," she corrected, "are interesting. Every other vampire in this city thinks that we have to share with the humans. But humans are our food, and you don't treat a steak like a friend," she said confidently. "I'm not going to work for cattle, and I'm not going to work for anyone who lets animals control them." And the smell. She hated the smell.
He was unreadably silent again. But that was good, because she didn't want to answer any more of his questions until he told her what he wanted. Seth hadn't told her, and Frost's question was the last thing she expected. She wanted to demand to know why, but unless you wanted your head on a stake, you didn't do that with Deacon Frost. You sat and waited patiently.
He sniffed, as if it were out of habit rather than anything else. "I need people for a new security faction and Seth thinks you should be promoted," he said bluntly. "Congratu-fucking-lations. You're hired." He tapped his cigarette against a black, square ashtray, and looked at her expectantly. "Assuming you want the job of course."
Experience had taught her not to say yes immediately. "What do I get out of this?"
A folder was tossed into her lap. Tower Security T1. The first page was a contract and keys in a plastic pocket. "When you decide, you can get your shit together and move there." The tag read: 008 Edgewood Towers. It was Frost's new skyscraper playground. "Now fuck off," he said irritably. For the first time, Mercury noticed a pile of manila folders stacked neatly on the table, and that one of them was open. He returned to studying it.
Mercury smiled.