The Tied Man

Twenty vertical feet of scrabbling, hauling and cursing got me to the first floor balcony directly above my quarters.   I pulled at the door with numb fingers; as I’d hoped, Blaine didn’t anticipate any burglars making a trip across the lake for the family silver and it swung open onto a dark and empty guestroom, although by that point I was prepared to kick out the glass with my foot and hide any evidence behind the curtain.

I crept along the upper hallway until I reached the minstrel’s gallery where I’d hidden and sketched, all those months ago.  A scattering of assorted perverts were already gathered in the hall,  mingling and exchanging smalltalk over canapés and champagne.  Some I recognised – Maxwell was shoving petits fours into his mouth like this was his last supper, and Laura Fenworth had obviously overcome her initial horror to make a return – and others were new faces to me.  I hated them all equally.

I threw a pebble from the patio down onto the piano, where Gabriel was making last-minute adjustments to the stool before beginning his stint as Blaine’s performing monkey.  He glanced up in puzzlement, and to my relief he saw me in the shadow of the gallery’s drapes.  I put my finger to my lips, and although he clearly didn’t have a clue as to why I had suddenly appeared on the balcony like a slightly manic ghost, he gave a single, subtle nod in reply.  I showed him the paper in my hand, and pointed to a spot directly beneath me.  Another nod, this time disguised as an examination of his fingernails, and Gabriel moved into position.

Blaine was in her element, surrounded by sycophants and entertaining them with some inutterably hilarious anecdote.  As near-hysterical laughter echoed around the room I willed her to keep wittering, and dropped the paper through the railings.  Seconds later, Gabriel came back into view.  He gave me a surreptitious thumbs-up behind his back as he strolled to his seat, and I could see the crumpled note palmed in his other hand.

There was nothing else for me to do now but get back to my room in one piece.  I urged the merrymakers below to keep drinking, and crept back into the shadows.

Finn

‘I’ve just seen to your girlfriend,’ Coyle smirked, taking up all the air in my tiny room.  ‘Reckon she’ll fetch a decent price tonight.  More than you, anyway.’

He was always insufferable on these occasions, high on the prospect of violence and humiliation, but tonight there was an added extra; I guessed he’d given himself an early Christmas present, because he was absolutely loaded.

‘Right, face the wall, fag.  Time to assume the position.’

There was no need for any of this.  Blaine only cared that I was presented appropriately to her guests, but Coyle had to have his fun and for Lilith’s sake I had to try and keep myself  in one piece for the next ten minutes.   I rolled up the sleeves of my dinner jacket, turned my back on the rabid bastard, and put my hands behind my back.

As ever, Coyle ratcheted the handcuffs a few notches further than they were meant to go.  I gritted my teeth against the discomfort, trying not to push him any further off his cliff.  I even managed to stay silent when he pulled the blindfold tight around my face and the darkness closed in.

We had just made it up the steps from the cellars when it all started to go tits up.  ‘Jesus, will you keep up, you stupid fag-bastard?’ My escort’s voice was tight with rage.  He grabbed my arm to pull me forward, and blindfolded and disoriented, I stumbled.  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Coyle howled.  He released his grip and went in for the kill.

The attack was all the more savage for its spontaneity.  Coyle piled his boot into the side of my right knee and I went down like a sack of shit.  The pain exploded, white hot, in a leg that already felt fucked beyond repair, and then a hard kick to the side of my head threatened to send me into oblivion.

‘Oh shit, not now…’ I whispered, and tried to curl away from the assault.  None of it made sense; Coyle knew he couldn’t mark me on nights like this, and worse, this was in public – we were so close to the Great Hall itself that it sounded like Gabriel was playing in the same room.  I could only guess that there were no guests around right now, but I had a feeling that was due to luck rather than judgement.

With immaculate timing, Coyle O’ Halloran had chosen right now to descend into terminal roid rage and I was going to get hoofed to death before a single second of Lilith’s grand plan could be carried out.  I only hoped she’d have the good sense to fuck off with Gabriel in his helicopter.

‘You all right there, mate?’