Jimmy recognized him from the news and sank down into the couch cushions. The assassin was ten times more terrifying in person. He was a gaunt snake of a man and his gaze was intense; Jimmy was glad it wasn’t directed anywhere near him.
Just a party, he reminded himself. For this guy. Who had just gotten out of prison for killing lots of people.
Tamerlane was looking for Cold, and quickly approached him with a respectful bow of his head.
“Tamerlane,” Cold said with a slight growl as he held the last syllable. “Good to see you.”
Tamerlane knelt, kissing Cold’s hand with a soft sigh. “Boss.”
Cold flinched, but allowed it, patting Tamerlane’s shoulder. “We’re glad to have you back.”
Rowena already had a drink ready, a martini loaded with olives, and handed it to the assassin as he rose to his feet. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “We’ve missed you, Mickey!”
Tamerlane gave a crooked, rueful smile as he accepted the drink. “It’s good to be back.” His quick eyes found Jimmy, an unfamiliar face at his special party. “Who’s the twink?”
Jimmy had been watching the spectacle, trying to grasp the inner workings of the varying power dynamics at play here, but all he could think about was being on his knees like that for Cold. He inhaled sharply when he realized everyone was staring at him.
“Oh, he’s mine,” Cold purred, and Jimmy swore he detected a hint of pride.
Tamerlane leered, chuckling quietly as he said, “A lot has changed since I’ve been in the clink, eh?”
“Mmmm. Some,” Cold admitted, a sly smile gracing his handsome face. “Jimmy, this is Mickey Tamerlane. Tamerlane, Jimmy.”
Jimmy waved anxiously, but fortunately Tamerlane wasn’t very interested in him. He tilted his head in greeting, but his gaze was quickly diverted to the doorway as another guest entered.
The newly arrived Gentleman was handsome and scruffy, his cheeks a bit rosy. He and Tamerlane exchanged coy smiles, and Jimmy correctly identified him as Roger Lorre.
“Hey, Boss,” Lorre said, opting for a handshake instead of dropping to his knees. “Jules, Rowena.” He nodded at them as he spoke their names, offering a larger smile for the last. “Tamerlane.”
“Hey,” Tamerlane said casually, as if they hadn’t been locked together in passion’s most intimate embrace only a little while ago if Jules was to be believed.
Lorre smiled at Jimmy, a bit puzzled. “And who the hell are you? Don’t I know you from someplace?”
“He’s with Cold,” Tamerlane informed him with an envious snarl. “So, don’t get any ideas.”
“One fucking time!” Lorre passionately exploded, all pretenses of them being mere acquaintances lost. “I fuck up one fucking time—”
“Six,” Tamerlane corrected, his stoic demeanor crumbling as he shouted, “You fucked up six times, and once was with Pym!”
A tall man with glasses and red hair had popped up at the door, but hearing the name turned him right around and sent him scurrying back down the hallway as Tamerlane and Lorre continued to bicker.
A few seconds later he was brought back under duress by a tall, slim fellow who looked no older than Jimmy, along with a wild-eyed man who had to at least be in his sixties.
Jimmy was actually glad he was only serving as a spectator. The chaos was a glorious train wreck. There was a rush of hugging and cheering for Tamerlane by the new arrivals, but Tamerlane was more interested in screaming at Lorre for his rampant infidelity. The older man was egging them on, encouraging Tamerlane to take a poke at the man with the glasses while the tall fellow laughed.
Jimmy listened intently, quickly picking up on all their names despite the lack of introductions.
Theodore Pym. That was the redhead with the glasses who very much did not want to get hit and was trying to back away as quickly as possible.
The old man was Francis Von Valdemar, and the laughing fellow was Thirdsies, so named because he was Francis Von Valdemar III. As Valdemar’s grandson, the pair represented both the youngest and oldest members of the Gentlemen.
Cold swept into the fray like a ringmaster, separating Lorre and Tamerlane while pushing Pym off onto a clearly receptive Thirdsies. He sent Valdemar over to busy himself at the bar, telling lewd jokes. Cold had to keep pulling Jules away from cutlery when he started to fidget, pausing to exchange a smile with his sister as she passed out a fresh round of booze.
It was the most dysfunctional family reunion Jimmy had ever witnessed, the mania perfectly lubricated by all the alcohol Rowena was too eager to pour. Jimmy shook his head, realizing how easy it was to forget they were all murderers and criminals.
Cold had been ignoring Jimmy for most of the evening, playing host and mediator to his Gentlemen as time ticked by. He would still occasionally glance over and smirk at Jimmy, giving hungry little looks that made him shudder. For his part, Jimmy was content to sit and look pretty, enjoying the fruity concoctions Rowena kept feeding him.
His next drink was brought to him by Cold himself, his long fingers gently tracing over the nape of Jimmy’s neck as he said, “I’ll be right back. Gotta have a little private chat with Jules and Tamerlane.”
