Ada's lead, the others nodded in Piotr's direction as, one by one, they rose and drifted into the crowd. Piotr glanced over his shoulder; Lily's conversation was done. Ada sashayed away, being stopped every few feet by other ghosts who wished to speak with her. Lily returned to the table.
Uneasily, Piotr settled into Ada's abandoned seat.
“Watch it, flyboy,” Elle whispered, leaning in too close, her cheek pressed against his own, and her breath tickling his ear. “Ada's got her eye on you and that ain't exactly good, if you catch my drift.”
“ Da ,” Piotr murmured back, making note of the men in the crowd nearby who paused to watch Elle lean forward and look their fill while she was otherwise occupied. Elle was a big girl, but she wasn't the type to appreciate people getting fresh with her unless she initiated it. “I noticed.”
Now that they were alone with the man who'd gone to such lengths to meet him, Piotr found himself studying Mr. Morris. Like Ada, he couldn't have been more than thirty-five at the time of his death, sporting a full head of dark, combed back hair and a simple button-up chambray work shirt over a comfortably worn set of jeans. His features were square and regular, but it was the measured look in his eyes that prompted Piotr to sit up straighter, to smooth his own wrinkled white shirt and adjust the crease in his pants.
“Mr. Morris,” Lily began, but the man held up a hand.
“Frank, please, my dear sweet dolly,” he said, offering a work-roughened palm to Lily with a wink and a knowing grin. “I let all that ‘Mr. Morris’ crap pass for Ada because she just can't seem to get with the times, you dig it? Half the time she's still roaming around 1842.” He rubbed his knuckles along his jaw. “Not that I'm much better, mind.”
“Indeed,” Lily said stiffly and took his hand, allowing him to turn her knuckles up and press a quick, firm kiss on the back of her hand. She shot Piotr an annoyed glare over Frank's bowed head.
“Elle, my lovely, I am so sorry for earlier,” Frank continued, sweeping forward past Lily and squeezing both of Elle's hands in his own. “Comfortable, dear? Would you like a drink?”
Not waiting for her answer, he gestured behind him to a slim black-clad figure Piotr had missed before. The waiter left and returned, setting a squat glass half-filled with eye-watering amber liquid in front of Elle. “I shouldn't—” Elle began.
“Well, if it's too strong…” Frank said and turned to gesture again for the waiter to take the drink away. Before Piotr could protest, Elle scowled and snatched up the glass. “I didn't say that,” she snapped, catching Frank's eye, and tilted her head back, quaffing the drink in three swallows.
“Good hootch,” she burped, wiping the back of her hand against her lips. “But I've had better.” Still, despite her bravado, her eyes twinkled, and Piotr was stunned to realize that somehow Frank had managed to make a friend of Elle. He felt a sinking in his gut. He'd counted on Elle being her normal, prickly self to help him get through this unorthodox meeting, but she seemed right at home, tapping her foot to the frantic beat as the jazz band went crazy up on stage.
Frank turned to Piotr and offered his palm.
“I am here, you have me,” Piotr said, taking Frank's hand and meeting his eyes with a level gaze. “Now you promise to send no more Walkers into our lands.”
“Scout's honor, Red. If it's any consolation, it wasn't just Walkers we asked to poke around for you, they just got there first. Sorry that such a nosebleed found you before some reasonable ghost, but none of the Council was up to wandering all over hither and yon waiting for you to show up. We used to know how to put a pin on you, but the territory you Riders staked out for yourselves isn't exactly clear-cut these days.”
“We have no territory,” Lily said, crossing her arms across her chest. “We have abandoned our ways.” She glanced at
Uneasily, Piotr settled into Ada's abandoned seat.
“Watch it, flyboy,” Elle whispered, leaning in too close, her cheek pressed against his own, and her breath tickling his ear. “Ada's got her eye on you and that ain't exactly good, if you catch my drift.”
“ Da ,” Piotr murmured back, making note of the men in the crowd nearby who paused to watch Elle lean forward and look their fill while she was otherwise occupied. Elle was a big girl, but she wasn't the type to appreciate people getting fresh with her unless she initiated it. “I noticed.”
Now that they were alone with the man who'd gone to such lengths to meet him, Piotr found himself studying Mr. Morris. Like Ada, he couldn't have been more than thirty-five at the time of his death, sporting a full head of dark, combed back hair and a simple button-up chambray work shirt over a comfortably worn set of jeans. His features were square and regular, but it was the measured look in his eyes that prompted Piotr to sit up straighter, to smooth his own wrinkled white shirt and adjust the crease in his pants.
“Mr. Morris,” Lily began, but the man held up a hand.
“Frank, please, my dear sweet dolly,” he said, offering a work-roughened palm to Lily with a wink and a knowing grin. “I let all that ‘Mr. Morris’ crap pass for Ada because she just can't seem to get with the times, you dig it? Half the time she's still roaming around 1842.” He rubbed his knuckles along his jaw. “Not that I'm much better, mind.”
“Indeed,” Lily said stiffly and took his hand, allowing him to turn her knuckles up and press a quick, firm kiss on the back of her hand. She shot Piotr an annoyed glare over Frank's bowed head.
“Elle, my lovely, I am so sorry for earlier,” Frank continued, sweeping forward past Lily and squeezing both of Elle's hands in his own. “Comfortable, dear? Would you like a drink?”
Not waiting for her answer, he gestured behind him to a slim black-clad figure Piotr had missed before. The waiter left and returned, setting a squat glass half-filled with eye-watering amber liquid in front of Elle. “I shouldn't—” Elle began.
“Well, if it's too strong…” Frank said and turned to gesture again for the waiter to take the drink away. Before Piotr could protest, Elle scowled and snatched up the glass. “I didn't say that,” she snapped, catching Frank's eye, and tilted her head back, quaffing the drink in three swallows.
“Good hootch,” she burped, wiping the back of her hand against her lips. “But I've had better.” Still, despite her bravado, her eyes twinkled, and Piotr was stunned to realize that somehow Frank had managed to make a friend of Elle. He felt a sinking in his gut. He'd counted on Elle being her normal, prickly self to help him get through this unorthodox meeting, but she seemed right at home, tapping her foot to the frantic beat as the jazz band went crazy up on stage.
Frank turned to Piotr and offered his palm.
“I am here, you have me,” Piotr said, taking Frank's hand and meeting his eyes with a level gaze. “Now you promise to send no more Walkers into our lands.”
“Scout's honor, Red. If it's any consolation, it wasn't just Walkers we asked to poke around for you, they just got there first. Sorry that such a nosebleed found you before some reasonable ghost, but none of the Council was up to wandering all over hither and yon waiting for you to show up. We used to know how to put a pin on you, but the territory you Riders staked out for yourselves isn't exactly clear-cut these days.”
“We have no territory,” Lily said, crossing her arms across her chest. “We have abandoned our ways.” She glanced at
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