Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

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librarian_7
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Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

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Author’s Note: This story is a collaboration between OnceBitTwiceShy and myself for Champagne Challenge #128: Reader/Writer II. OBTS provided the idea of Josef visiting Santa Fe in the 1920’s, and running into…well, you’ll have to read the story. The settings are as accurate as I can make them, having been in Santa Fe myself many times, and also using various resources on the City Different, as they call it, and its inhabitants back in the ‘20s. While I could find no record of a hotel located in Sena Plaza, such a place does exist, and who knows? It could have housed a small hotel at one time. The artists’ colony, and their compound on Camino del Monte Sol, are documented. There will be a thread with a set of pictures and links to places, costumes, cars, posted after most chapters. My thanks to OBTS, not only for the idea, but for her encouragement and input as the story progressed. I don’t own Josef, or any of the historical locations and personages mentioned in the story. Any errors or misrepresentations of fact are mine.


Camino del Monte Sol

XII. The Plaza

On the fourth floor of La Fonda, Reza leaned on the balcony overlooking the Plaza, watching the dance. Much of the throng was obscured from her view by the trees scattered around the area. She’d never been allowed to attend public dances as a teenager, although that hadn’t stopped her from sneaking out a time or two, mostly to stand awkwardly watching couples laughing in each other’s arms as they danced, or strolled, taking advantage of the night air.

When Stephen emerged from the shower, clad in a dark striped silk dressing robe, toweling his short hair dry, she didn’t know, didn’t notice. He cast the towel aside on a chair, and padded across the room to the balcony, slipping his arms around her waist, and bending down to nuzzle her neck, dragging his fangs along her skin.

Breathing in the delectable aroma of her hair, Stephen pulled her against him, relishing the subtle curve of her back against his body. Stiffening just a little at first, she relaxed back against him, sighing. Then she exhaled, raggedly, and tilted her head to one side, to give him better access. She was learning, he noted with approval. Together they looked out over the plaza for a space of several minutes, listening to the music and laughter far below.

“Why so pensive, princess?” Stephen asked.

Reza twisted in his loose embrace, and laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, no reason. I’m just watching the dance, that’s all. I was thinking we could go down and join it.”

“Really.”

“Anyway,” she said, “I’d like to go to the dance.”

“All right,” he said. “I’d enjoy dancing with you. But let me ask you something, Reza.” His eyes were shadowed in the dim room, enigmatic.

“Yes?”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Nash?”

“Nash? I don’t know. A week, week and a half?” She paused as if to think. “Down in the lounge, that night we were all there. I guess that’s the last time I saw him.”

“How likely is it that he or some of his friends are down in the Plaza?”

Reza shrugged. “It’s a Saturday night. If they’re not in the Plaza, they’re surely in the lounge.”

Stephen was silent for a few moments. “I see. I don’t want to dampen the mood here, Reza, but you know I’m not going to be in town forever.”

She put her face down against his chest, one hand curled in the lapel of his dressing gown. “I know that,” she said. “Even with what your—freshies—“ she said the word awkwardly, “told me, I never thought this was forever.” She lifted her face and smiled at him. “You’re a thunderstorm, Stephen. Wild and exciting…you roll in and upset everyone’s plans. And then, you’re gone.” Her eyes twinkled. “Don’t get me wrong. I love a good thunderstorm. I just don’t expect it to last too long.”

He nodded in acknowledgment of her analogy. “I just want you to think carefully before you burn every bridge. If you stay in this town, it won’t pay to antagonize Nash or the others. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes. And I don’t think that innocently appearing at a dance with you is going to make a difference.”

“I think you know damn well, we’re not going to pull off ‘innocent.’ Two weeks ago, you were calling Nash your beloved. Do you still feel that way, Reza?”

She twined a hand around his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him lightly, her tongue slipping into his mouth, dancing around his fangs. “I’m not fickle,” she said.

Stephen couldn’t resist taking advantage of that kissable pout. “Theresa,” he said, his voice a low growl, “how long does that dance last?”

“As long as people keep tipping the band, they’ll go on half the night.”

“In that case,” he said, starting to fade back toward the rumpled bed, pulling her along with him, “it won’t matter if it takes us a little while longer to get downstairs.”

Afterwards, he watched from the bed as she brushed out her hair and twisted it into a thick braid. For some reason, he just didn’t like the idea of going down to the dance. He couldn’t put a finger on it. There was nothing he’d seen, or heard, or smelled, that would indicate there was any danger in the Plaza, but something in the back of his head was telling him, it was a bad idea. Usually in such cases he followed his instincts; it was part of why he was still enjoying all the things he enjoyed, after three centuries. But Reza was reckless, and she made him feel reckless, too, If she was willing to throw aside caution for the sake of a dance, then he supposed, so was he. Although at the moment, she seemed to be moving in slow motion, languidly surveying her face and applying makeup, a sheet pooled around her hips.

Much as he appreciated the show, he was getting restless. Rising, he donned a black and white striped shirt, and sharply pressed black pants. “Princess, don’t tell me you’re too worn out to dance.” He pulled open a drawer, selecting a textured white silk tie, and a black leather belt for his trousers.

Reza threw her arms out for a last luxurious stretch, before standing up to dress, but Stephen was paying no attention. Instead, he was occupied in scrawling a few lines on a piece of note paper. “Kittens, dance in the plaza, come out to play.” Folding it, he addressed it, Sena Plaza Hotel, Room 7.

Downstairs, he handed the note to the desk clerk. “Can you have this delivered?”

It was nice to know his lavish and frequent tips hadn’t gone unnoticed. The clerk practically snapped to attention. “Yes sir.”

“As soon as possible.”

“Yes sir.”

The five dollar bill on the counter didn’t hurt, Stephen thought. No need to blow his reputation at this point.

There was a lively crowd in the lounge, but a quick glance showed that Los Cinco Pintores were not among them, although Stephen suspected that some parties were coming in for a drink or two, and then returning to the dance. Those coffee cups again, all very discreet. Out on the Plaza, he took Reza’s hand and tucked it through his arm, in a gesture more courteous than lover-like. She accepted it, and kept pace with him as they moved around the square. She greeted a few friends, a wave here, a nod there. It was a reminder to Stephen that this was at heart a small town. By now, he needed no introduction. Most people knew his name, and if they hadn’t seen him before, they were certainly interested to do so. Stephen and Reza worked their way around past the long colonnaded walkway of the Governor’s Palace, and up the far side of the square, enjoying the evening. The band broke into a waltz and Stephen smiled at Reza. “Well, it’s no tango, Razorblade, but how about a dance?”

“Absolutely.” She tossed her head with a smile, and turning to face him put one hand on his shoulder, and the other in his. They stepped out into the whirling mob.

They were dancing more closely, even, than before, steps in perfect sync. Soon a little space grew around them, as other couples stopped to watch them dance. Reza, full of fire and bravado, Stephen coolly precise in his movements, a perfect counterpoint to her. At the end, he threw her down into a deep dip, then, raising her up, kissed her heartily, while the crowd around stomped and cheered. “Perhaps we should take a bow,” he said to her with a smirk.

“I think the, uh, the kiss was enough,” she laughed back.

“Well, come on, we should tip the band, after that.”

And they walked arm in arm to the edge of the bandstand, where a big earthenware pot sported a crudely hand-lettered sign that read “music” on it. Stephen was pulling a notecase from his jacket pocket, when he felt a slight tug, as Reza turned around. Spinning on his heel, he discovered, essentially, what he had feared. His artist friends were all in attendance, and Nash, flushed with drink, was in the forefront, glaring at Reza, flexing his hands, open and closed, open and closed.

“Reza,” he said, “why haven’t I seen you?”

“I’ve been busy, Willard. I was planning to come see you in a day or two,” she responded, her hand tightening on Stephen’s arm.

“Oh, really. What is this, Reza? Do si do and change partners?” His voice was harsh with sarcasm.

“Look, Nash, I know you’re upset,” Stephen said, “but this isn’t the place.”

Bakos stepped forward and laid an arm across his friend’s shoulders. “Kostan’s right,” he said, “this is too public.”

“We live our lives in public,” Nash replied. “And one place is as good as another.”

Shuster began laughing uproariously at this, and it didn’t even take a whiff in his direction for Stephen to realize the man was far under the influence. Smelled like they’d all been partaking, probably of that stuff they brewed themselves in the still out on Camino del Monte Sol.

Stephen was noticing movement out of the corner of his eye. The situation was in danger of escalating, and he had no intention of showing off any of his…unusual capabilities…for the crowd in the square. This was how torch-bearing mobs got started. For the most part, the ones gathering around were the men, possibly smelling the entertainment of a fight in the offing, but he saw some brighter flashes as well. Women’s dresses. It would seem that his pets had gotten the message also, and were coming to stand by him. No overdressed little dolls tonight, they were all wearing simple day dresses amd low-heeled dancing shoes. He felt, more than saw, Dorothea behind his left elbow, picking up her distinctive aroma even in the crowd.

“Stephen?” she said in a low voice, “What’s going on?”

He spared a glance in her direction. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart. Why don’t you take Reza for a cup of coffee at La Fonda. I’ll join you there shortly.”

Thea nodded, and moved to put an arm around Reza’s waist as Stephen relinquished his hold on her and stepped away.

“Come on,” she said. “I don’t think we need to be here for the next bit.”

Reza opened her mouth to disagree, but another look at the situation changed her mind. She felt, obscurely, that her remaining sense of loyalty ought to be telling her to warn Nash that he was getting in way over his head, but she was angry enough at him for making a scene, that she decided he was not worth that consideration.

As for Stephen, long experience had taught him that dealing with a disgruntled lover was probably more dangerous than dealing with a husband. Husbands were self-righteous, and had the law on their side, but that sometimes gave them the confidence to be magnanimous. A rejected lover, on the other hand, was likely to strike out in pain, with no thought for the consequences.

He looked at the men ranged in front of him. Nash, drunkenly belligerent; Ellis and Shuster, somewhat confused, but wanting to support their friend. Bakos and Mruk—he narrowed his eyes. Bakos, was glancing at Mruk with some dawning comprehension, as Nash snarled, “Unnatural creature. I don’t know what you are, Kostan, but it’s not right.” At least, Stephen thought, Reza was away from this.

That was before he heard a slight scuffle. He turned in time to see Reza break away from Patrice and Dorothea’s loosely encircling arms. She paused to give Louise a fairly vicious shove that sent the smaller girl sprawling, a look of utter disbelief on her face. Free of other encumbrances, she took a couple of long strides up to Nash, cracking her hand across his face in a sharp slap.

“You don’t own me,” she said. Then she turned to Stephen, and wiped the incipient smirk off his face, with a ringing slap to his left cheek. He staggered as though the blow had landed with as much force as she’d intended. “And you—you don’t own me either.”

Stephen reached out, made a long arm around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her cheek. “Never strike me again,” he said in her ear, and released her. “Now go.”

Nash had one hand up to his face, cradling his stinging skin. “Son of a bitch,” he said in disgust. “Women.”

There was a moment of tension as Bakos looked back and forth between Kostan and Nash, then he began to laugh, softly at first, and then more heartily. All the rest of Los Cinco Pintores, and a good many of the crowd around them, joined in, and the moment of danger was past.

“Gentlemen,” Bakos said, “Let us sit down, and drink, and be friends.”

Stephen stroked his cheek, thoughtfully. Nash was a hothead, and he could deal with that, one way or another, but he feared the suspicions of Bakos and Mruk. It was looking like he still had some dancing to do, tonight, and he’d best be careful of where he stepped.
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francis
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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by francis »

A jealous lover and his perceptive friends are very dangerous. I think Reza diffused the situation a lot by slapping them both. Josef might not like it, but it took some malice away from the conversation, if just for a distraction.
He is capable of fighting his fights, but he should make sure it's worth the hassle, and the repercussions. I hope his freshie ladies aren't hurt in the process.
You give us another chapter of this wonderful tale. I love the thunderstorm analogy, and all the dance metaphors.
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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by jen »

Wonderful chapter!

Love the thunderstorm analogy, but I think it is equally fitting about Reza. Her passions are rather like a thunderstorm.

Nash and the others will feel better in the morning, but I wonder what was said that set Reza off. If they knew what Josef was and how to hurt or kill him, Reza's quick thinking may have saved Josef's life.

It certainly diffused the ugly mood.

Well done!

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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by darkstarrising »

I agree with francis, Lucky.....Reza did Stephen a favor. By slapping both men, she diffused the situation far more efficiently than Stephen could have. Yet Reza is a passionate and impulsive woman, not necessarily the best of combinations with a vampire around. Stephen didn't listen to his instincts and look where it got him.

Loved, absolutely loved Reza's description of her tryst with Stephen.
“You’re a thunderstorm, Stephen. Wild and exciting…you roll in and upset everyone’s plans. And then, you’re gone.” Her eyes twinkled. “Don’t get me wrong. I love a good thunderstorm. I just don’t expect it to last too long.”
What Reza doesn't realize that while Stephen may be a thunderstorm, the three graces could become hurricane forces if they think they're vampire is in danger. And hurricanes do a lot more damage than thunderstorms.

But now Stephen finds himself with an even bigger threat than an impetuous lover and a jealous Nash....'unnatural creature' sounds as if someone has Stephen's number and I'll be anxious to see just how Stephen avoids exposure.
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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by NightAir »

Over 300 years of paying attention to instinct and Stephen shrugged it off for a pretty face. Of course that pretty face went along with an irrepressible firebrand of a woman, so what could he do? :snicker:

But the danger he sensed was waiting for him in the shadows. Luckily, Reza knew how to redirect the escalating tension, but I don't think Louise will be happy about being shoved down. That could cause friction between them later.

Mruk has been telling tales to the others, but what exactly has he said? How has he come to suspect Stephen? There is more here than a jealous lover and his friends.

At some point, Los Cinco Pintores will have to make a choice between their sense of righteousness and what Stephen can do for their careers. And Stephen will have to decide if it's worth all the trouble.

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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by librarian_7 »

Ahh, thank you for the comments, my friends!

I'm honestly not sure if Reza really knew what she was doing, or if she simply acted as her nature dictated. She's certainly a wildcat, though, and she probably has more of Josef's attention than is good for either of them.

I do appreciate your reading!

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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by cassysj »

Reza is quite a spitfire but I do think she helped by slapping them both. Great update.
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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by eris »

Smart little cookie, that Reza. Two little slaps, and no shed blood. (Though she might regret pushing poor Lulu.)
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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by RangerCM »

Hmmmm. Stephen's in for more than he thought, I believe. But I have full confidence that he'll get through it just fine. :thumbs:
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Re: Camino del Monte Sol, ch. 12 (with OBTS) -- PG-13

Post by allegrita »

Oh, man! I'm way behind on this story. What a great chapter-- I loved Reza's wistful moment as she looked down on the dancing in the plaza, and the conversation between her and Josef about the temporary (albeit exciting) nature of his place in her life. He is like a thunderstorm, and she's a risk-junkie, so no wonder she's so attracted to him. But the near-fight with Nash and his painter friends has me quite concerned. Josef really is off his game. He should pay more attention to his instincts, or he could be in real trouble. Reza, purposefully or not, defused the situation very well with those slaps. But Josef needs to watch his back. And actually, so does Reza. She's making enemies left and right, and she may soon find herself with no allies.
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