Party, Party

Chapter 45: Spades and Clover

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Valentin's POV

A towel hung heavy on my head—I take heed to Russel's warning and dry off my skin before entering the delivery port of HQ. It's about a 8 hour-ish train from the docks, and to my surprise I'd had the oddest encounter.

Doing my rounds, collecting data from the ship's docked in Valhalli harder for trade inspection—I came across the woman from yesterday. A woman with red eyes. Red! And her daughters who seemed just as odd as her. Only this time, instead of chasing me inhumanly through a web of alleyway, she was chained to the bottom of the harbour with only five minutes left in a breathing bubble.

Russel had warned me not to listen to the woman—apparently a lot of girls claim to be in relationships with the inner circle to enter the HQ. He even took off his sunglasses to tell me—that's when I know my partner of two years is serious.

But something seemed... genuine about her.

That's probably not the right word, but when I look at her and her kids—she seemed pretty confronted by any mention of the Nox, so why would she want to date one of them? Besides, most of the women in these cases don't have kids.

My gills disappearing and my teeth grinding down to a flat ensemble of molars, I tug my shirt back on and let the creaky iron door open in front of me—revealing a grand lobby and interior. After the Nox renovated the mansion of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the inner circle turned it upside down, placing three decorative rules in place:

No red.

No white.

No rabbits.

It was... weird. But who in their right mind would question Atlas Solani?

Right, the guy over there getting flogged.

"You know the rules, Friar." Says Twin #1. "We gave you plenty of warnings. Chuck out the couch or your ass is grass."

Twin #2 bludgeons Friar again, causing a sharp help to resonate throughout the lobby that silences almost everyone. All Nox members were used to this sort of brutality—we signed up for it. Me, however, I don't think I'd ever get used to it.

Twin #2 raises his head, catching me staring. He makes an animalistic sound, a growl or sorts that causes me to shudder.

"Wanna' join in?"

"N-N-No, thank you." I stammer, leaving out the name.

I always mix up which twin is which—despite their stark contrast in appearance. Mister Aiden, for one, is softer in appearance but juxtaposed in temperament. He's the meaner of the both, being the eldest and that—Russel told me. Kaiden is the quieter twin, but goddamn is he hard to look at. A long scar runs from his neck and down onto his chest—which is visible with his open shirt.

Some girls in the statistics section said that Spades's father caused the shot, but no one really believes that garbage rumour.

"Sir, is Spades around? I need to give him my findings."

"Why do we hire you kids if you don't have a splinter of self-fucking-awareness?" Twin #1 groans, pointing behind them. "He's right there."