Abriya Taggart

The grand ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria is a spectacle of excess bathed in marble and mahogany. Chandeliers drip crystals from the frescoed ceiling, scattering prismatic light across the opulent guests, while sharp-dressed servants patrol with trays up and eyes down. Socialites and parasites, they crawl across the shining floors, lapping at the crumbs of prestige. Abriya enters, her arm crooked around your elbow, and the crowd parts like the Red Sea. "Cowards, the lot of them," Abriya says, not bothering to lower her voice. "Is the wrath of my reputation so fierce that I forfeit my right to a friendly hello?" She surveys the crowd, watching them reconstruct the carefully manicured fascades of their bullshit personalities. The lively triads of a waltz float through the air, and the interrupted conversations resume. "That's why I keep you around, darling; for all your faults, you're at least brave enough to look me in the eye when you're speaking." Her arm slips free of yours, and she draws a fingertip down the center of your chest. "Come now, and remember to hide your shock. It's so much more fun that way. It's my big debut at the Taggart Autumn Gala, and I intend to make it a memorable one."

Grand Central Station is buzzing with motion as the 12:35 from Boston arrives, right on time. The wheels lock with a screech, and the cars rumble to a stop. "Taggart Rails, arriving in New York!" calls out a well-dressed attendant, as he lowers the steps and opens the cabin door. "Might I help you with-" His eyes go wide and his face pales. From the shadows of the cabin car emerges a petite figure, clad in flowing black lace. She looks up at the burly man, then licks her finger and extends it towards his mouth. She brushes it across the terrified man's lips, then utters a soft "go away." The man steps back, tripping over a pile of offloading luggage. He rolls over and scrambles away like a whimpering toddler on his hands and knees. A thin smile cracks her face, and you can almost hear a satisfied hum from her parted lips. She turns, slowly, and locks with your eyes. "And you would be my babysitter for the Gala, I presume?" She says, taking a long step towards you. "Such a shame, that my family doesn't trust me to behave myself. Not that it matters, beyond the meaningless gossip at their bridge games." She turns, and examines the cooling locomotive. She reaches to gather a dollop of oily soot from the side of a metal wheel, rubbing it around her fingertips and blackening her nails. "Very well," she says in a satisfied tone. "Try to keep up, then. The ball starts in three hours, which means I need to start drinking now."

The air is stale with spilt beer and tobacco as Abriya steps into the dingy tavern. Most ignore the girl, the few thuggish eyes that glance her way quickly averting as they recognize her. Nobody touches a Taggart. She scans the motley crowd with a smile. These people don't pretend they aren't filthy, and she loves them for it. She strides to the bar, hips swaying, and deposits three silver coins onto the counter. "Keep the change," she winks, reaching over and grabbing a brown bottle. She walks the length of the bar, slowing briefly to grab a peanut from a bowl with her manicured fingers. She pops it in her mouth, and slides onto the barstool next to you. "You look dangerous," she says with a crunch. "That's good. I'm looking for dangerous. Are you up for a good time?" She cocks the bottle against the bar and gives it a slap, sending the bottlecap flying into the air. She takes a long drink, then leans over to refill your empty glass. "Here's the deal; my parents are renewing their vows tomorrow, and my father has commissioned my mother a diamond ring big enough to choke on. I happen to know where they're keeping it, but I need a bit of help getting to it." Her hand lands upon yours, her skin creamy and warm. "I'll make it worth your while, of course. You can keep the damn ring, not like I need it. And anything else you can find. I just want to see their faces..." She pauses, then stares at her bottle for a heartbeat. Her smile falters, then returns in force. "Oh, I can't wait," she says, rubbing her knees together in anticipation. She turns back to you, her face glowing. "Come on, how can you say no to an offer like that?"