The Afterparty

[Alex]

Moonlight shone into the studio-sized apartment as Rocco undid the two locks on it and opened the door. The haven had been entirely dark before. Its windows were shuttered with wooden slats. He walked inside, letting his non-descript disguise fall away as he crashed onto the ratty, moth-eaten easy-chair. He didn't bother turning on the lights. He didn't need them with the moon overhead, and he didn't want to waste power. The old gas generator was fucking expensive to run. It wasn't like commiseration benefited from light.

Speaking of commiseration, Rocco turned to see his two co-commiserators walk in behind him. First was Skylar. Every time Rocco saw the Ghoul he wanted to mutter something under his breath. But he bit his tongue. Beatrice blew by her boyfriend and servitor, quivering with rage. She had already Frenzied once tonight. Who knew what would be able to set her off again. Sunrise was coming, and he couldn't risk her damaging the haven.

Beatrice threw herself into the couch, slamming her hands on its failing wooden outline. Skylar approached, trying to put a hand on her. But she swatted it away, glaring daggers at him with her hazel eyes. "Fuck off!" She snarled.

Rocco looked over to Skylar. As much as he disdained the prettyboy, Skylar was valuable. He didn't want Bea breaking her toys. "Why don't you head up to the attic, Skylar?" Rocco sighed. "Bea and I will talk next steps." Skylar looked to Bea. She rolled her eyes. She didn't care what her useless fucking boyfriend did. So he did what Rocco told him. As soon as his footsteps ascended the ladder, Rocco spoke. "So," he said. "That was a clusterfuck."

"It's always going to be when this bitch plays it safe," Beatrice hissed.

"And what, we were going to cut through a dozen mortals right in the middle of a fraternity party? That would have worked?" Rocco asked. He was calm, but not patronizing. Working around Beatrice's triggers was a tough job. One their boss was unwilling to do and their other partner was unable to suffer. So it fell to Rocco.

"It would have been worth it to gut her and claim her fucking soul," Beatrice said coolly.

"Assuming you would have succeeded," Rocco said. "And you know you'd regret it later."

"She would," Beatrice said flatly. "I couldn't give a single fuck less and I don't know why she does. They always hated her. Always made fun of her and teased her and-"

"But this isn't about revenge," Rocco said. "Your revenge anyways. We have a mission, Bea. And the good Lady from Houston has made it absolutely clear what happens if we fail. Can't get revenge if you die again."

"She's going to ash us for this, Rocco," Beatrice replied, laying out on the couch. "This was probably our last chance and she fucked it up the way she fucked her whole life up. Good-for-nothing cunt."

"Oh fucking please," Rocco said. "This broad is like centuries old. There's no way she's short-sighted enough to whack her top operatives over one operation that was FUBAR. And it wasn't like we learned nothing and accomplished nothing. We know they're fucking around Tulane. We know they know about you and Skylar. We can work with that. The Lady only gets pissed when we walk up and tell her there's nothing we can do. And there's plenty we can do. Think about it. Does this really fuck up our next phase?"

Beatrice didn't immediately respond. But when she did, her voice was wavering. "It's going to make things harder for me," she muttered.

"Still easier than I had it growing up, Trix," Rocco chided her. "And once it's all over you get an eternity of opulence. You can't tell me hanging out in some shabby hovel for a few months or years ain't worth that."

"Worse," Beatrice frowned. "At Skylar's apartment." Rocco just laughed at that. He didn't even know why she had taken the fucking Ghoul if she hated him that much. But who the fuck understood Beatrice or Trixie or any of their type?

"Point is, you can take it," Rocco said. "And with a little bit of thinking we can minimize our losses here. Long as you make yourself scarce and Skylar sticks to the sunlight as much as possible? Things can keep rolling along."

"And what does that leave me to do other than peddle drugs?" Beatrice asked skeptically.

"What you're best at," Rocco said. He reached into his sweater and pulled out a very familiar mask. A blank white one with black around the eyes and lips. At seeing it, Beatrice actually smiled.

"Who this time?" She asked.