Chapter 23: The Kingfisher - The Night Market

The Kingfisher always looked like it was daring people to burn it down. Someone with a grudge tried back in the 80s but it is a stubborn establishment and refused to succumb to the fire. Hidden in the backstreets, brickwork soot-stained and windows reinforced, it pulsed with the throb of distorted bass and the glow of neon spillover. The mural of its namesake bird watched over the entrance like a totem god of outrageous rock and regrettable decisions.

The queue outside was long, tense with Friday revellers. But Laik, Pepper, Swan, Viola, Reese and Duncan didn’t even slow their pace. The bouncers gave a nod, one muttering a low ‘Evenin’’ as they stepped aside. Rank had its privileges, and Enforcers – even on a night out – didn’t queue at the right places.

Inside, chaos reigned in the best way. Rock music screamed from half-blown speakers, fighting for dominance against the shouted conversations and off-key singalongs. The walls were wallpapered in decades of posters, band stickers, graffitied signatures of long-forgotten and still prominent legends. Sweat, beer and perfume hung in the air. The floor was sticky. The atmosphere? Perfect.

The others peeled off quickly, drawn to familiar faces already shoulder to shoulder in the dim haze. Viola and Swan were already exchanging hugs with a group they recognised from the accounting floor of Leroux Tower. Duncan was exchanging war stories near the jukebox with someone sporting an arm in a sling. Reese was singing along to the music with a pair of girls who had become compelled to dance with her. Laik and Pepper pushed their way to the bar.

‘You need to relax,’ Laik said, voice low, almost casual. ‘You look nervous.’

‘That’s because I am nervous.’

‘Exactly. And if you look it, you’ll make me nervous. And when I get nervous, people start asking questions.’

He leaned across the bar toward the barman. ‘Bottle of Proto and a shot of Black Tarkus, cheers.’ He made a flash of a card with the Cavendish crest upon it before putting it back in a pocket.

The barman nodded, setting a glass down. ‘And for you, miss?’

‘Bottle of Herron cider, please.’

‘Just the cider?’

‘I’m being good.’

‘Fair enough.’

The drinks were placed on the bar. Pepper took her bottle, the label half soaked with condensation, the drink ice-cold. She watched Laik raise the shot, the liquid inside nearly black with a reddish gleam.

‘You’re not adding anything?’ she asked.

‘No need. Some of this comes pre-mixed with the red stuff. They do it all in the back. One of the perks of drinking in the right places. They keep it discreet, nobody asks questions about the V-word.’ He clinked her bottle against his glass. ‘Cheers.’

They drank. She took a long sip, glancing at him over the rim of the bottle. He watched her over the lip of his shot glass, and for the first time that night, there was a flicker of actual ease behind his eyes.

They found an empty pool table tucked beneath a crooked light. Their jackets went over the side rail, Laik rolling up his sleeves like he meant business. ‘You always give that look,’ he said as he dug the pound coin from a pocket.

‘What look?’

‘The look when I drink. You get shirty about the blood thing.’

‘I do not.’

‘You do. You ever had a cocktail? Mixed drinks?’

‘Of course.’

‘Same thing,’ he stated while racking the balls up.

‘It’s totally not,’ she muttered, ‘not when . . .’ she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, ‘not when there’s blood involved.’

He handed Pepper a cue and gestured for her to break.

She broke clean, one ball dropping into a side pocket with a thunk. She missed the next. Laik chalked his cue, lined up.

‘Sorry, what did you expect to happen?’ he asked. ‘We throw some poor bastard on the bar and go to town? Rip him up like wolves? Or what – neck a bunch of girls in underwear? You’ve seen too many films.’

He sank a ball with a soft crack. Pepper made a face, sipping her cider.

‘I just . . . I don’t know. You’re vampires. Do you know how hard it is separating fact from fiction?’

‘Yeah. It’s easy. Just ask. I had to.’ Another shot. ‘It’s not like in your movies. We don’t suddenly have monster faces. We don’t magically learn kung-fu moves. And we don’t go around top to toe in black leather, wearing sunglasses at night.’

‘How do you explain that guy, then?’ She nodded with her chin toward the man Duncan was in conversation with, leaning against a pillar – shades on, floor-length leather, looking like he’d lost his way to a Matrix convention.

‘That’s Enrique. That’s just his style. Don’t hate. You still have a lot to learn about us . . .’

They played on. The music roared, the floor thumped. Pepper watched Viola lean toward someone, laughing at something said too close to her ear. By now, Reese was buying drinks for her new friends while one of them toyed with her short red hair. Laik missed a shot.

‘I don’t think you and I getting off on the wrong foot helped,’ she said, placing the drink back down.

‘I don’t remember either of us getting off.’ Laik smirked.

Pepper scoffed.

‘Really? I’m being serious, here.’

‘If I didn’t say it, you would have.’

‘That’s not the point. Admittedly true, but still.’

He glanced at her. ‘You have a point. It was a bit wild.’

‘If things had been different,’ Pepper said, circling the table, ‘how do you think it would’ve gone?’

‘Between you and me? Different how?’

‘Say we met normally. You didn’t try and kill me at first sight. That sort of different.’

He bounced his head side to side. ‘And where would this meeting happen?’

‘Somewhere like here?’

The cue ball cracked as she fired it off, sinking another. Laik chalked up his cue in preparation.

‘Uh-uh. The Kingfisher ain’t your kinda place.’

‘You don’t know my kinda place.’

‘I know it’s not here. I think you’d prefer somewhere quieter.’

Pepper lowered herself to check the angle and lined herself up. The ivory ball skidded against cushions and spun away. She immediately retreated to the comfort of her drink, only for Laik to offer a hand.

‘Hi. Laik.’ He was playing along, but sported a faint blush on his cheeks at the awkwardness of it all.

She took it. ‘Pepper. You’re named after a body of water?’

‘You’re named after a seasoning.’

‘Touché. How would you prefer your drink? In the bottle, in a glass, or poured over your head?’

He grinned, cue in hand. ‘Another beer if you’re going. I’ll get the next. So, Pepper . . . what do you do for work?’

‘I’m a personal assistant. Sort of.’

‘Sounds important.’

‘Very.’ She leaned slightly on her cue, watching the table. ‘I make schedules, clean up messes, lie to people with a smile. I’ve pulled strings and pulled people out of fires. The hours are insane, the stress is terminal, and I rarely sleep more than four hours at a time. It’s my job to make sure the people I work for have all they need, regardless of the size of the task. And the two I run after now, they are . . . demanding. One’s pompous. The other, kind of crazy.’

Laik raised an eyebrow.

She lined up her next shot, and sunk it clean.

‘I make sure everything ticks. Keep people happy. I see the angles in the process. Head off problems before they begin. It’s what I’ve always been good at. Damn good.’

Laik smirked.

‘It sounds like you’re a dog walker with better shoes.’

‘Basically.’ She grinned, taking a long sip from her cider.

‘Any family?’ Laik took a short inhale watching her as he travelled around the table.

‘Yes.’ She froze for a moment, eyes shimmering. Distant. ‘A sister.’

A flicker of a smile battled something else, clearly shown on her face. ‘She’s my world. When we were all but left alone, she did everything it took to keep me safe. Worked the nastiest part-time jobs to keep us fed. We had to steal at times. I had to learn to get good at it, or we would die under a bridge somewhere. She taught me resilience. And to never give up. And now she’s ill.’ Pepper fought her voice not to trail off as her hand rose to the locket around her neck. ‘Very ill.’

‘I’m genuinely sorry to hear that,’ Laik offered, pausing his motion. ‘Is she in there?’

Pepper lowered her face to hide the smile. ‘Yeah. I keep her close.’ She blinked, giving the moment space to pass before glancing sideways at him. ‘Gave me this thing to remind me that she’s always with me. To stop, uh . . . to just slow down once in a while. Stop running.’

He quietly watched her.

‘So,’ she said lightly, nudging them back toward safer territory, ‘what about you?’

‘Oh. I’m a . . . a bodyguard of sorts,’ Laik replied, rolling his shoulders slightly as he looked for his next shot. He winced, prodding his chest.

‘Is that okay? You look like you’re struggling. And it’s affecting your game, unless you’re naturally this bad.’

‘I’m fine, thanks. Just hurt myself at work. It’s almost healed anyway.’

‘That happen often?’

‘More than I like. Something of an occupational hazard. Doesn’t matter, I got my medicine.’ He took a mouthful of beer.

Pepper followed him with her eyes as he summed up his next move. ‘This bodyguarding. Sounds vague and dangerous.’

He offered a faint smile. ‘That’s because it is. The job changes depending on the night. Sometimes I’m security, standing in corners, looking threatening. Sometimes I’m a babysitter for people with far too much money and far too little sense. Again, looking threatening. And other times . . .’ he paused, lining up a shot, ‘. . . I’m the last thing between someone and a very bad end.’

The ball kissed the edge of the pocket but didn’t drop.

‘Doesn’t that get tiring?’ she asked, watching him with mild curiosity now.

‘All the time,’ he said. ‘But you do what you’re good at, don’t you? And I’m good at keeping those needed alive. I don’t ask why. Don’t ask what they did to need someone like me. Just get on with it. I’m not the conscience. I’m just the wall.’

Pepper leaned on her cue, thoughtful. ‘Sounds lonely. And like you’re being used.’

He gave a slow nod. ‘Yeah. It is. But there’s a strange kind of peace in that. You stay alert. You stay sharp. You don’t get attached. Don’t think so much . . .’

‘And yet here you are, guard down,’ she said, arching a brow playfully.

Laik gave a faint shrug. ‘Even walls need to kick back sometimes.’

‘What about you? Family?’

‘No. They died in a, uh . . . accident.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she returned, sincerely.

‘Don’t be. I’m not,’ he stated, cold.

She lined up her shot, ignoring the flicker of heat in her chest. She was wiping the table clean now – ball after ball disappearing down pockets.

Laik nodded in approval. ‘Very nice.’

‘Thank you.’ She took to her drink, cocking her head. ‘And from a touch of the accent, I would say it’s nice knowing another Welshie. Ach-y-fi, boyo, and that. Honestly wouldn’t have guessed.’

‘Psh. Mae hyn yn anfoesgar. It’s not something that’s ever come up. You speak it?’

‘Nah, just some words here and there. It’s from my mother’s side. My sister and I . . . our mum passed when we were very young, our grandmother who stepped in was more old school . . . used to use the lingo. We moved a lot back then . . . got taunted mercilessly about the Welsh thing at schools, so I don’t really mention it. The sheep jokes alone . . .’

Laik drained his bottle. ‘Been around since I was young. Some things never change.’

‘Which is how long, exactly?’

‘Too long.’ He snorted, watching her wiggle into position, sliding the cue back and forth on the nape of her hand. She sank the eight ball and leaned her cue against the table, victorious.

‘Well, Laik’ – Pepper patted his shoulder – ‘you seem nice, but your pool game sucks.’

‘I was going easy on you. Didn’t want to ruin the first impression.’

‘Were you now?’ She fumbled through her jacket on the table, producing a grubby coin. ‘Then let’s hope you fare better this time.’

The next song thundered through the bar, a raucous drumline that sent cheers through the crowd while Pepper went to the bar for another round. Glasses clinked around her, and someone near the back let out an off-key howl to the chorus. As she squeezed her way back to the table, she spotted a flash of red lipstick and the silhouette of Viola slipping through a gap in the crowd.

‘There you are,’ Pepper said, over the noise. ‘Thought you got swallowed by the queue for the toilet.’

Viola’s smile was all teeth, her lipstick smudged a little, her hair a little less pristine than it had been. ‘Just talking to people. Meeting people,’ she said, a touch too breezily. Her voice carried that lilting cadence that meant don’t ask more. ‘You know how it is.’

Pepper didn’t buy it but let it slide. She nodded toward the pool table. ‘Well, since you’re here, fancy a game?’

Viola grinned. ‘Oh, and embarrass myself? Oh no, I don’t think so. Pool’s not my thing.’

‘Aw, come on.’ Pepper pouted. ‘I need a challenge!’

‘Oi,’ Laik muttered, without looking up from his drink.

‘Hush. Just one. Just give it a shot. Do you need me to tell you what we’re doing?’

‘I think I have the gist.’ Viola surrendered and took a cue. ‘Hit the white ball into the others.’

Pepper rolled the cue ball between her fingers and lined up the triangle, chalk dust rising in a pale puff. The clatter of balls broke through the low hum of conversation as Viola leaned against the table, loosening her coat.

‘You’re breaking,’ Viola said.

‘Nothing new there,’ Pepper replied with a wink, cracking the cue ball clean into the formation. The balls scattered, one striped clattering into the corner pocket.

‘Lucky,’ Laik said.

‘Excuse me,’ Pepper said, slanting her hips. ‘It’s called skill. Something you lack.’

‘Ah yes, hitting me where it hurts. My pool skills.’ He raised his glass to her as she stuck her tongue out. ‘Vee, take the smile off her face, would you?’

Viola leaned over to take her own shot. She fired the cue off like a bullet, kissing a ball into a corner pocket. When she leaned back, she was proud of herself. All business. Her smirk was telling. Laik tossed his head back with a single ha.

‘What is this? Are you gonna hustle me?’ Pepper chuckled, rising to the challenge.

‘We all have secrets.’ Viola manoeuvred around the table, working the trigonometry out for Pepper’s turn.

‘I wasn’t gonna say, but is that what’s with the hair?’

‘Oh!’ Viola, still fixed on the table, pressed some rogue curls back into place. ‘Um. Just stepped out for some air. Got talking to someone . . .’

‘Someone,’ Pepper echoed, half smiling, glancing to Laik.

‘I ain’t saying anything, this is girl business.’ He wisely took more from his glass.

Viola’s mouth twitched. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m allowed to talk to people.’

‘Didn’t say you weren’t,’ Pepper said, softening her tone as she took her turn. ‘Just . . . didn’t expect you to kick back so wild. No offence, but you’re always so straight. I sort of thought you only had eyes for Canis.’

‘Well. I don’t know if you’ve noticed’ – Viola lowered herself in posture and tone; the cue was lined up like a weapon – ‘but Canis only has eyes for himself. Always has.’

The strike was sharper, powerful, and when it cracked into a ball, it caught flight above the pocket before tumbling down into the table’s innards.

Pepper wasn’t smiling anymore, and when she flicked her gaze to Laik, she saw that he too had felt the seriousness. Laik took a long sip from his bottle before it was noticed that Pepper had yet to line herself up.

‘Your turn,’ Viola reminded.

Pepper took her turn with a clean snap, missing her target by an inch. The three of them bantered between rounds, trading cheap shots and mock applause. Pepper was losing and pretended not to care. Viola was winning and pretended she wasn’t. Laik was enjoying the moxie. The rhythm between them came easy – the kind that made them forget, for a while, that the world outside the Kingfisher’s battered doors could be cruel. For Laik and Pepper, there were no monsters. No secrets. No plans. Just drinks and music and imagined lives they’d never get to live. And, through it all, the pair had relaxed so much that if they were asked, they would actually confess to having a good time.

So much so that Pepper was utterly unaware of the buzzing in her pocket.

She didn’t hear her phone ringing.

Didn’t see the voicemail notification.

She was completely oblivious to what was about to turn her world upside down.