Natalia and Matt walked down the now familiar street in silence. He seemed to sense that she was in no mood to talk.
Natalia's mind was whirling. Pictures of Sally chased themselves round and round, the violence of the attack drawing a vague sense of recognition and fear.
After a few minutes of fruitlessly searching her memory, she shook her head and dispelled the horrendous image of the beaten girl, saying,
"Where now?"
Matt looked at her for once with serious eyes.
"You don't want to tal-"
"No. Where are we going?"
Matt, bouncing back cheerfully, replied, "I got us some lodging in a boarding house by the harbor. Cheap and relatively clean. I personally scoured your room for rats, Nat."
"I appreciate it," she said, only slightly sarcastically. Her fear of rats was as overwhelming as it was embarrassing. She could swordfight with the best, but every time she saw a rat, she had a fit and yelled obscenities in the highest, girliest scream imaginable. Matt, understandably, found this hilarious.
They reached the boarding house after another few minutes of walking. It was a squat affair, with grimy windows and peeling paint. The steps were rickety, at best, and Natalia was about to complain, when she realized that this was the kind of building her father wouldn't of set foot in. That made her suppress a smile and the complaint died unsaid.
They entered and were greeted by a man who she supposed was the owner. He was a short, balding man, of Spanish decent, if his accent was anything to go by. Everything about him screamed uncleanliness, from his dark, pockmarked face shining with the effort of doing nothing, right down to the tics that moved from sore to sore on his feet.
"Evening, miss and gentleman," he cooed sarcastically. "Welcome to my humble home. If you have any complaints about anything, the food, the rooms, etcetera," he paused to give them a nasty look, "feel free to get the fuck out."
If he had been looking to get a reaction out of them, he was sorely disappointed. Natalia rolled her eyes and Matt grinned slightly. They both used obscenities to frequently to care if their fat landlord cursed at them.
"What's the rent for the month?" Natalia asked in a bored voice.
"Five shillings a week. But," he paused here and looked Natalia up and down, "I want twenty percent of any business you conduct on my property."
"She's not a whore," Matt explained quickly.
"Well, if she's not, then you, mi amigo, are losing out on a fabulous profit margin. She's better than most. But if you like to keep your puntas to yourself, that's your business." He eyed Natalia again, now with the look of a man who wants what he can't get. "I myself was -"
He was cut off by the rather debilitating roundhouse punch to the face. He fell to the floor, and looked around wildly, expecting another swing from Matt. Matt, however, was standing quietly by the door in the same stance he had been in.
A woman's voice hissed in his ear while a corresponding pressure came down on his throat,
"Listen, tu pedazo de mierda, if I ever, ever, hear you talk to me that way again, those bugs making their way into your rolls of lard will have to find a new home. Comprende, senor?"
The fat man's eye's bulged, and he grunted something that she took to be an affirmative.
"Good. Now, my friend and I are going out. You have until we get back to arrange the best rooms available in this shit heap for us and change your attitude from fat pendejo to gentleman concierge."
She released him and he stood, massaging his throat and giving what he thought was an intimidating look. Natalia headed to the door, reached it, and turned and flicked her wrist faster than the eye could follow it. One of her two hidden knives landed less than an inch from the landlord's right ear and imbedded itself into the wood.
"So you don't forget."
The door banged shut behind them, and they didn't hear the quiet laughter that followed the escapade from the adjoining room.
After they left, a man with heavy eyeliner and dreadlocks sauntered his way out of the back room. The fat landlord looked up, saw him, and said,
"Please God, Jack; tell me you didn't see that."
"Mmmm, now, I could tell you that, but I've always been one for the truth, eh?"
Matt and Natalia had reached the street, when Matt stopped and looked at her.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"Absolutely."
"Rum?"
"Please."