Page 1 of Sapphires and Snakes
TAMAYO
This is meant to be my engagement party, but it feels more like performance art. The discordant music, theAlice in Wonderlandcostumes, and the piles of tea cups, pots, flowers, and playing cards artfully scattered around the room create a surrealism outside of reality. And yet the players are as real and tangible as the cape hanging heavy from my shoulders. The undertone of violence always a moment away from slipping onto center stage.
Not unexpected, considering this party is celebrating my (fake) engagement to Zarina Gallo, mafia princess of the Southern Districts, and the only people remotely happy about the news are Zarina and myself.
My best friend and second, Darius, steps up beside me, blocking anyone attempting to approach for business or disingenuous congratulations. Zarina and I are not here on genuine terms. But the whole party can’t know that.
He hands me an old fashioned and mutters, lips barely moving, “Did you see the Birdwatcher?”
I take a sip of the proffered drink, gaze following Jimmy Falcone, don of the Eastern Districts, and shake my head. I’ve only ever heard of the city’s most notorious secret keeper, onlyever seen their face in photos or on the outskirts of galas. I haven’t needed their business before and hoped to heaven they’d never take an interest in mine. “They’re here?”
Darius hums. “Purple-striped suit at your six. Think they’re meant to be the Cheshire Cat.”
I don’t turn to look. That’d be too obvious. Instead, I simply rest a hand on Darius’s shoulder and continue speaking quietly. “Alone?”
He looks at me, not at them. “Currently speaking with someone dressed as a petunia.”
“Keep tabs.” I pat his shoulder, letting my hand fall to rest in my pants pocket.
A man breaks through the crowd.
His suit is bright pink with glittering purple pinstripes, and his dyed blond hair is styled to sweep off his forehead. Ostentatious and gaudy. Before I see his face, I know exactly who it is coming to wreck my perfectly fine mood.
Mateo Russo.
“Tamayo!” He raises a glass of champagne, almost sloshing it over his knuckles. I take in his sharp jaw, his full lips, and his tall twink frame. Storm clouds gather over my head. My eyes twitch with the need to glare.
Tension coalesces in Darius’s body as the voice of his ex-boyfriend and first love burrows into his ears. He turns, slow and measured, to face Mateo.
“Congratulations!” Mateo gulps down his entire glass. A drop spills out the side of his mouth and drips down his chin, falling to his neck. He overturns the flute like finishing his drink in honor of my engagement is meant as a public service. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
Ass. I keep my face pleasant, my voice low. “Perhaps you mean the day you could approach me without threat of a broken nose.”
“Andy,” Darius grumbles.
I want to roll my eyes at him, but I decide to continue pinning Mateo with my fakest, most simpering smile.
“Oh, I fully expect violence from a gangster, no matter who wears her ring.” Mateo laughs too loud and too long at his own bad joke. I still can’t believe Darius dated this guy, let alone can’t get over him. “I meant the day you attended a themed party and dressed on-theme. How gay of you.”
“What do you want, Mat?” I ask, purposefully shortening his name to annoy him.
“North, south, east, west. Round and round the compass rose with nowhere to go,” he laments. He places his empty glass on a passing tray full of hors d’oeuvres clearly not meant to take dirty dishes.
“Your personal circumstances aren’t my concern.” I don’t care that Mateo Russo is the last living member of the fallen Russo family. I don’t care that he was orphaned at age five when the Accardis wiped his family off the map. I don’t care that David Capone took him in as a favor to his late father. I don’t have one fucking iota of a fuck left to give about the man in front of me, because he ripped Darius’s heart out of his chest and stomped on it.
And for better or worse, I’m a loyal bitch.
Mateo grits his teeth, swiping his bleached-blond hair off his forehead in a practiced move. “History is doomed to repeat itself, Andy. Don’t be the fool who never saw it coming.”
That specific grouping of words raises my hackles. I squint at him. “Saw what coming?”
He steps forward and glances at Darius then quickly back to me. But I don’t miss the millisecond of painful regret that swims through his gaze. He throws his arm around my shoulder, like he can’t hold himself up, his mouth inches from my ear, and his voice drops too low for anyone to overhear. “The sunsets in the West, no matter where you stand.” He squeezes my shoulder, fingers digging into my collarbone, like he’s willing me to understand. “There’s only a few minutes before the sun setstonight.”
I frown. Mateo isn’t lecturing me on the science of the Earth’s orbit around the sun. The Accardis rule the West. And currently, it’s well-past sunset, night blanketing the sky in dappled starlight long before Zarina and I stepped foot on the dance floor. No, this isn’t about the sun at all. Not literally. Which leaves only one interpretation for Mateo’s warning.
Darius steps around us, ignoring his ex-boyfriend as his eyes flicker over the crowd. “Where’s Zarina?”
Realization settles deep in my gut. The Accardis are making a move. Now.
