She notices the little bout of awkwardness that has surrounded us, and so do Aras and Cignette.
I bring the can to my lips and take an audible sip from it, and Cigs whips her head at me like I’ve just stepped on her foot or something.
“Right.” Aras clears his throat and claps his hands in front of him. “I’ll suggest that you guys try out the appetizersmychefs have prepared for tonight instead of indulging in…” He gestures at the table behind us with a comical curl of his lips. “That,” he all but spits the word.
“And bythat, you mean…” I let my words trail off.
He exhales heavily and glances at Magner, just as a group of upper classes push their way over to the table, all but lunging toward the skewers and tourtières.
“Those appetizers are made from human flesh,” Magner announces, stunning the crew and I in place.
“I’m sorry, what?” Cignette half screams, half gasps, then grabs another bottle of sparkling water before downing it in a single go. “Ohmygod, I just ate a human,” she rushes out, then looks up at me with wide, fearful eyes. “Dor, I just ate a fuckinghuman.” She glances behind her to where some upper classes are shoving the appetizers into their mouths like candy, then hides a gag behind a hand before gluing herself against me.
I wrap an arm around her and try not to heave the contents of my stomach on her head. “Technically, you spat it out, babe.” Igulp some more of the soda, and through the music still playing in the foyer, I can faintly here some of the guests complimenting the presentation and quality of meat on the appetizers, while others complaining about how it needs more flavor. A quick survey of the crowd tells me that there’s only a select few upper classes who partake in this…madness, while others, upon having read the board Aras put up, have drifted far away from this side of the hall.
“How are you so calm about this?” she hisses.
“I’m not; I’m just trying not to throw up all over you,” I say honestly.
She moves closer to me still. “And here I thought you’d be okay with this sorta thing. I mean, you’ve dismembered people, Dor. Chopped them like beef and shit.”
“True, but I’ve never had the desire of cooking and eating them,” I state. “I draw the line at blood consumption.”
“Same.” She brings a fist up, and I chuckle as I bump mine against it.
“What the fuck is this, Aras?” Varsha asks, bringing Cigs and I’s attention to her. “When were you going to tell us that you cater to cannibals in your fancy ass events?”
He raises his hands in surrender. “I assure you that it’s more out of political favor than anything else,” he replies coolly, his dual-colored eyes gleaming as he studies the view over my shoulder. “I am just as disturbed by this as you are, but I have people of all kinds to indulge, Varsha, given my status in this city. I unfortunately do not always have the luxury of picking my allies, since some of them all butdemandmy cooperation, and I have no other choice but to entertain them. I like keeping my hands clean, and my family’s name up and thriving in Anaheim so that I can runReignwithout a hitch.”
Varsha sighs as she runs a hand over her perfect hair. “I can respect that,” she says, then shakes her head. “But still, how doesthis…arrangement work? You feed these people, and they owe you a favor?”
Aras chuckles. “Not exactly. I try keeping the mafia families in my favor at all times. Thisarrangement, as you put it, is between me and the duo of Fredrick Byron and Atharv Rajvansh, who have a pact with each other. The Byrons buy human meat from the Rajvanshs for their selective clienteles, aka some of their regular patrons whose tastes vary from the rest. The Rajvanshs in turn buy some of the drugs the Byrons specialize in for their textile clients. The chefs working at the Byron family restaurants curate food made of human meat for premium events so that both families can give their pact a public platform for recognition. Now, because us Lutkuses are on good terms with both of these families, Ihaveto add their cuisines to each and every one of my event menus. Besides, it only works in my favor if the upper classes who indulge in cannibalism attend my events and find their needs catered to.”
“What do you get out of this agreement – eternal peace?” Cigs questions.
Aras laughs. “Exactly. And zero sabotages in my underground arenas.”
“Except for Timothy,” I provide. “He kinda broke the rules by invadingReignand selling drugs on your property. I’m pretty surethatwasn’t part of the agreement.”
“Absolutely not,” Magner says. “At least not to the degree he has been doing it.”
“And the people who, uh…” Cigs starts, then swallows and points a thumb behind her. “Where does the meat come from?”
Aras’s expression falters as he shifts on his feet and slides his hands into his pant pockets. “People with whom the Rajvanhs have a vendetta. Upper classes, suburbans, the likes. Some strays that live outside of the city, and some people that are kidnapped and smuggled in from different countries. It’s…a whole thing, but not something I’ve ever had the desire of learning more about.”
“And rightfully so,” Alex voices. “Cannibalism is something that’s been practiced for hundreds of years. I’ve heard about there being a certain percentage of our world’s population today that indulges in it – some that follow a certain belief or ideology, and some that are simply addicted to it as one would be to a drug. It’s fucked up for sure, but not unsurprising, given the time we live in.”
“I like to think there’s a place for everyone in this world these days,” Magner adds. “The goodandthe depraved.”
Alex meets his eyes, and for the first time tonight, he actually acknowledges Magner’s presence.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I feel movement in my peripheral, and when I turn towards it, I find Solo running down the stairs with a ghastly expression on his face. He navigates through the thick crowd, excusing himself every other second as he beelines towards us, all the while dabbing sweat off his face and brows with a white handkerchief. Once he nears us, he meets my eyes, and when I raise my brows at him, he makes a slicing motion in front of his throat, to which I curse internally.
What the fuck has happenednow?
19.
