Chapter 114: Chapter 114: The Garden Grows

“This is a load of shit!” the ostentatiously dressed man spat. He wore a garish vest with nothing underneath and trousers that ended at his knees, with curly toed boots. His blue hair stuck up in spikes, and the two women behind him looked absolutely done with his shit. Razia couldn’t blame them. Their pimp looked more like a clown than anything else.

“Well that’s tough, now isn’t it?” Isa sneered from the other side of Quentin. “You had your time. It’s over now. The Boulevard’s ours. Don’t like it, you can always take it up with your replacements.”

Those replacements were Jinnis and Pete, leaning up against the wall. Jinnis wore a new eyepatch, and he saluted with two fingers to his forehead, grinning at the man. After going to several different places along the Boulevard, they only had one more stop for the day. After they dealt with this flea.

“Look,” said Razia, slipping into her role as the calm, peaceful voice this time. Isa won the dice roll to be the bitch for this particular in. “You were given a decent offer. If you don’t want to take it, we’re going to do what we want anyway, only you’re going to get hurt along the way. Save yourself the trouble and buy yourself something nice, yeah?”

The pimp, Razia couldn’t be bothered to remember his name, growled like an angry animal. Cute. “You going to let your bitches speak for you?”

“You’re beneath me,” said Quentin, shrugging. He dressed his best that day, not out for a fight. That didn’t stop some people from trying. “They speak with my full authority and trust.”

Sure enough, the pimp threw a punch so obvious Razia could’ve countered it. Quentin caught his fist and twisted. The pimp cried out, dropping to his knees. Quentin slammed his knee into his nose and let him drop to the ground. Isa stepped forward and ground her heel into his hand for good measure. Gods, it felt good to have her as part of the team.

“Aiiiieeee,” he cried out in pain.

To the girls behind him, Razia beamed. “Look, we both know how much of a joke this guy is. You’ll have it better with us. You won’t be slapped around, mistreated, or forced to do anything you don’t want to do. You’ll just keep on doing what you’re doing, but you’ll be safer and more comfortable and better paid for your troubles. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

One of the two, a short haired blonde with too much eye makeup, scowled. “Sounds like we don’t have much of a choice,” she said. “What’re you saying, work for you or leave?”

“More or less,” said Isa, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to work for us, but if you don’t you can follow this chucklefuck off our territory to wherever he’s going. You can continue to work for the scraps he gives you, under his heel. Or you could try us out and see how it goes. Seems like an easy choice to me, but what do I know?”

“I’ll do it,” the tall, leggy brunette said. She was pretty, and apparently smart too.

Razia smiled. “Then go talk to those two gents over there, who will be looking out for you. They’re perfect gentlemen, but if things get bad, you can always come to the Garden and talk to us.”

“You really don’t have to worry about anything,” said Jinnis, pushing away from the wall and moving up to her. He took her hand and brought it up to his lips. “I see a beautiful partnership ahead of us.”

On the ground, the pimp groaned and clutched at his bleeding nose. Pete sighed and said, “I’ll take care of him, I guess.”

“You’re the best, Pete,” Quentin grinned at him.

“Yeah yeah,” Pete grumbled, grabbing the pimp by the ankle and dragging him out of the building. The other patrons gave him a wide berth. He probably wouldn’t hurt him any worse when they got outside. Unless he mouthed off. Razia gave it fifty/fifty odds.

“I’ll leave this in your capable hands,” said Quentin to Jinnis. Jinnis smiled and waved him off, his focus entirely on their newest hire. Quentin slipped his black spectacles on and the three of them left, arm in arm in arm.

No doubt they made quite the sight walking down the street, but that was the point. A week after Christophe’s death, there wasn’t much left to clean up or improve on the Boulevard. Quentin and his girls were a common fixture these days, often stopping and talking to vendors and giving some shards to beggars who welcomed having a warm meal for a change. All of it would’ve just been posturing and wealth flexing to make a point, if it had been anyone else doing it.

“Just one more stop for the day,” said Quentin, slowing down to drop a few qala in another young boy’s empty bowl. The boy bowed his head gratefully. Then they moved on. “We can handle the rest of the inns on the east side of the Boulevard tomorrow. I want to get home and get this done and relax for a bit. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like you want an excuse to be lazy,” said Isa, snorting. “And that’s just fine with me. My feet are killing me.”

Razia snickered. “Maybe you should’ve worn more sensible shoes,” she teased. “Sandals would’ve sufficed with how much walking we’ve had to do today.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to stomp on fools as well,” said Isa proudly.

“She’s got you there,” said Quentin. “But for our last stop, maybe we play it nice for a change. He’s not going to be happy about how things turned out, and if you piss him off too much he might not go along with it.”

Razia stopped them right as they got to the turn leading to their neighborhood. “You hearing this, Isa? He’s telling us we can’t have any fun.”

“Like he can stop us,” Isa smirked.

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Quentin sighed good naturedly. “Of course you can have fun, but maybe let’s wait until the deal is complete. That is, unless you don’t want Jonas to have some distance from you, Isa.”

Isa winced. Jonas took Isa’s new attachment as well as could be expected, but his poor heart seemed crushed by it. A bit of distance would do him good. “You make a good point. I’ll behave as well as I can, given who it is.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Together they went down the street, now a great deal less sleepy than before all this began. Now Shades patrolled the street, waving at them as they passed. Now girls came and went freely, even during the day before they opened. But they didn’t go to the Garden. Instead, they went next door and Quentin knocked on the door. Half a minute later, it opened, and a servant let them in.

Leonis’ house had the same layout as theirs, but that’s where the similarities ended. The front room, where the Garden checked weapons and put them into chests, was a simple street facing office. They followed the servant past that to where the villa opened up, looking much like the extravagant home most people in the square had.

Tapestries covered the walls and the tiles had been carefully replaced to be mosaics of some of the more beautiful sights of the desert, like the colors of sunset above a raging river between sandy dunes. Crates littered one wall, with expensive looking silks hanging out the top of one of them. There were a few servants, but mostly Razia noticed Leonis’ small family.

Leonis himself stood there, dark beard thicker and rougher than the last time Razia had seen him, and he had bags under his eyes. His wife, or so Razia assumed, clung to his side, a thin, sharp looking woman with severely pursed lips. Then there was their daughter, a young teen who looked like a perfect mix of the two. She stared blankly at the three of them.

“Good afternoon, Leonis,” said Quentin evenly. There was no love lost between them, especially not after his attempts to get the Garden closed. Well, look who had the last laugh. “I trust you are well.”

“Spare me the pleasantries, Quintius,” he said with a sigh. “Let’s just get this over with. Did you have to bring your women with you?” In particular he eyed Razia, who managed to avoid smirking at him or winking. After the incident with Brody and the knife to her neck, Razia found herself just a little more cautious.

“I did,” said Quentin, taking his arms back from them. “They’re my top advisors, and I would bring them to any business deal. Is that going to be a problem?”

Leonis’ eyes slid between the two of them. Razia tried not to grin and wave at him like the cheeky bitch she loved to be. It was difficult, but she managed. Finally, Leonis sighed and shook his head. “I suppose not. You’ve made it clear enough your whores aren’t going anywhere. Come.” He motioned for them to follow.

His dinner table stretched out from one side of the room to the other, no doubt to impress visitors, or maybe to stay away from his family. The chairs were on one end. Quentin grabbed one and picked it up, moving it to the center, making it clear he expected to deal with this closer. Razia followed suit, dragging the chair along the tiles and gleefully dancing inside at the horrible sound it made. Leonis winced and his face turned an interesting shade of reddish purple.

Isa shot her a look and took Quentin’s left side, while Razia sat at his right. Grunting, Leonis grabbed his own chair and sat opposite them. He wasted no time in launching right into it.

“I’m not happy with you. Any of you. This neighborhood used to be a good place to live, until you brought your bitches here and trouble followed. The fact that I’m even considering this makes me sick. But if it means getting the hell away from you and all your problems, I don’t see that I have a choice. I’m willing to sell, if you’re willing to pay the full amount in shards.”

Quentin nodded. “I’ve got the shards, and I certainly don’t want to see you any more than you want to see me. Frankly, trading you out for more of my men and women will be a huge step up. And for your troubles, I’m willing to offer seven hundred aqulios for the house.”

Leonis’ nostrils flared. “I paid seven fifty for it. You’ll pay in full.”

Quentin smiled, the one where he intentionally kept it from reaching his eyes. The look of a predator about to swat an annoying scavenger. “No. It was seven fifty. But you have repeatedly insulted my women and myself. So you’ll receive less for your house each time you do so.”

“Excuse me,” Leonis growled. “I did not agree to that.”

Razia couldn’t help herself. “No, you didn’t. But you’re going to have to deal with it just the same. You’re not in a position to bargain, Leonis. Maybe you should’ve been nicer.”

Leonis stood. “I don’t have to deal with this,” he said.

Isa cocked her head to the side. Razia always admired how vicious she could look. “Are you sure about that?” Isa said. “We’ve done our best to keep things away from you. It wouldn’t be any effort at all to make some more noise, or draw even more attention to the square. You think things are bad now? Sit the fuck down.”

Wordlessly, he did as he was told. His eyes looked over them all, full of hate and something Razia loved to see: fear. Quentin looked from side to side, pretending to silence them with a grave expression. She didn’t miss the playful twinkle in his eyes as he turned back to their opponent.

“Seven hundred for your house. We both know you’ve already paid it off and it would allow you to move nearly anywhere in the city, and pay for the move itself and then some. Thanks to some unfortunate gang violence, property values are dropping. Yours included. I could very well demand five hundred and you would still pay it.

“If I wanted, I could threaten you or your family, and you would pay even less.” Quentin raised a hand to stall Leonis’ indignant squawk. “I could. But I’m not going to do any of that, Leonis. No matter how much of a prick you are, or how you tried to get us shut down and thrown out. I am going to deal with you fairly. You get a fair price for your house, my business expands, and you get out of the line of fire if and when gang activity gets worse.”

After taking a long, deep breath, Leonis sighed. “How the fuck are you not dead or in jail, Quintius? You’re a thug. A dirty, low life. I can’t believe you’re pulling this shit, after years of quiet.”

“Six fifty,” Razia said, folding her hands in her lap and smiling sweetly.

Leonis’ face darkened again. Razia could swear she saw a vein in his forehead, threatening to burst. He got control of himself, slumping in his seat. “Fine,” he said. “You’ve made your point.”

Isa looked over her shoulder at one of the crates lining the wall. “Throw in a crate of silk and seven hundred is fine.” She looked to Quentin, who just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll draw up the paperwork.”

“You two have fun?” Quentin asked after signing the paperwork and handing a bulging sack of shards over to their former neighbor. He’d be gone within a week.

“Moderately,” said Isa. “Would’ve been more fun if we could’ve played with him some more. He’s lucky I didn’t smack him for how he spoke of us.”

“I can’t complain,” said Razia, looking over at the two of them. As rough as the past few months had gotten, things were looking up. Summer waited around the corner and the various fighting factions of north Orchrisus were starting to settle down. She had a happy life with her partner, and Quentin had yet to fully come into himself. Razia saw that now more than ever.

“I could,” said Isa, to the surprise of no one. She wore a more genuine smile than Razia could remember ever seeing. “I don’t think anyone’s surprised by that. I better go tell Jonas he gets his own house to run, and make sure he’s not too mopey over me.”

She turned to head inside, but Quentin grabbed her by the front of her silk wraps and pulled her in for a kiss. Isa made a surprised sound but practically melted against him. Recent developments did wonders for her mood. When Isa pulled away, she looked happy.

“You’re lucky I like you well enough. Anyone else would get a slap and a bill.”

Quentin looked her up and down. “You’re right. I am lucky.” Isa looked away, biting her lip. Rather than respond with a sharp retort, she just went inside. Then Quentin turned to her. “And you’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked her.

Razia shrugged, smiling. “I am. It’s not in my nature to be jealous, and I want you to be happy. Both of you. I’m plenty happy as well. Besides, I’ve been eyeing Tenchi for a bit. Are you okay with that?”

Her moonkissed lover considered it, silent as his brow furrowed in concentration. “I think I am. You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. We work well together, and I know you love what you do…I love what you do too,” he chuckled. “But no matter what, you mean more to me than anyone else. Anything else. All of this…I did it for you. And us.”

Razia’s heart skipped a beat. He looked so genuine, so serious, and so vulnerable, all at once. “I know,” she said, cupping his face with her hands. “You’ve been so good to me, and I hope I’ve been even half as good to you.”

“I’d say you have,” he said quietly. He leaned down and they kissed, soft and gentle and self assured. They were good together, and it felt good that they both knew it and weren’t hiding it anymore.

“The king and his queens of the Boulevard,” said Razia, breaking away.

Quentin rested his forehead against hers. “The king and his queens,” he echoed. “I like the sound of that.”