Even with her twelve Hobbs delivered, it seemed that the Italians were not yet done with Nyxvira Bloodbloom. Maybe they’ve got a thing for Faeries? She mused, sitting across from Dante Martovanni in his dark little office. A few slithers of light broke in through cracks in the blinds, whilst a mechanical fan hummed back and forth, blasting cool air into the room.
“Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Miss Bloodbloom,” Dante spoke in a calm and cordial manner, yet the dark flashes which blazed in his glassy eyes betrayed the anger that he was trying to mask “Your punctuality is very much appreciated.”
“Not at all,” Nyxie gave a wave of her hand “I’m happy to help.”
“That is good to hear,” The aging man nodded softly “I’m in need of someone who is both dependable...and discreet.”
“Perhaps we should start at the beginning?” The Faerie prompted.
“Yes...Yes, I believe we should.”
Dante cleared his throat, coughing into his clenched fist.
“My little brother was brash and headstrong, but he was still my blood,” Dante began “and now the Santoni’s have taken him from me. I was already a man grown when my father called the midwife, the day Eddie was born. From the second he came into this world he had a full head of dark hair. We all laughed at that. And now he is gone, and I’m still here. It isn’t right. Should I start fearing for the life of my niece, Anthea, next? Whatever his faults were, Eddie was my brother, for fuck’s sake…”
The Italian paused, affording himself a brief moment to reclaim the composure which was gradually slipping out of his words.
“No partnership is worth my brother’s life. I cannot permit the Santoni family to live, any longer.”
“I understand completely. My family was taken from me at a very young age.” Nyxie said, only half lying “How would you like me to help you?”
“The Santoni’s have dealings in Chinatown, with Old Feng,” Dante explained “they’re trading a shipment of machine guns down by the docks, tomorrow evening. The brute in charge of overseeing the operation is Andreas Cardinale; a Tlynnite.”
Tlynite. A dying, yet still relevant, pagan religion. Tlynite’s held some pretty outdated beliefs. Such as the belief that Faeries were holy creatures, and instruments of God’s will.
“You want me to convince Andreas to break off relations with the Tong,” Nyxie guessed “Old Feng will be insulted, and any future dealings between the Tong and the Santoni’s will be substantially more difficult.”
“A small blow,” Dante admitted “but the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Can I trust in your cooperation, and subsequent silence?”
Nyxvira made her way cautiously down the sidewalk, a fur-lined coat pulled tightly over broad body.
Even at night, Santa Somabra was too hot for her liking.
A small silver box, holding a battered old telephone, was built into a nearby brick wall. Nyxie punched in the number she had been given, and picked up the receiver.
Ring.
Riiing.
Riiiing.
Click.
“Miss Bloodbloom.” A voice answered. The voice of Judas.
“You were right,” The Faerie said, keeping her tone as neutral as she could muster “Big brother is out for blood.”
“Good,” The Hanged Man replied “go ahead as planned. Await further instructions.”
He hung up.