by Amanda Foody
This was power.
The woman leaned forward, lowering her voice to a hiss. “And when you and every gangster hang in Liberty Square? Where do my volts go, then? Who protects us, then?”
Levi stood abruptly, the charm never leaving his smile. “If you change your mind, you can find the Spirits in the Ruins District.”
Enne shot him an irritated look, but he pulled her outside before she could confront him.
It was drizzling now. Levi opened an umbrella and offered it to her, but Enne took a step back.
“The ‘Spirits’?” she demanded. “Did you just name my gang, Levi?”
“I think it sounds good. It suits your street name—”
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“Well, sorry. I just blurted it out.” Seeing as Enne wouldn’t stand close to him, he handed her his umbrella and let himself get wet. “Her words were making me nervous.”
They’d unnerved Enne, too. Now, whenever she closed her eyes, she pictured the two of them hanging side by side at the gallows.
“Don’t be put down about her yet,” Levi said. “We’re hitting up lots of others.”
Enne sighed. “Where to next?”
“Everywhere. Anywhere.”
Two hours later, Enne and Levi had collected a mere fifty volts for the Scarhands, one hundred for the Doves, and eighty for the Irons. Most of the brothels on Sweetie Street had turned them down or accused them of coercion. Enne had seen more nakedness that evening than she had in her entire life, and she was desperate to leave the red light district behind.
The pair wandered into a quieter establishment called the Dirty Deed, and after being turned down yet another time, took a break to brood at the bar.
“The market is a good idea,” Enne grumbled.
“This is still a novel concept to people,” Levi said. “If you give them time, they’ll—”
Someone tapped Levi on the shoulder, and both of them turned around. A woman wrapped her feathered boa around his neck and planted a large kiss on his cheek, leaving a mark of green lipstick behind. Enne startled so much she nearly toppled over. Her gaze dropped to the woman’s cleavage.
“You should smile,” the woman purred. “You look like you could have some fun.”
Levi stiffened and spit a feather out of his mouth. “I was having fun.”
The woman’s smile faltered, and she shifted her gaze to Enne. Upon seeing Enne’s mask, her smile fell altogether. She released Levi’s shoulders and backed away. “I’m sorry. Enjoy your night.”
As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Enne let out a fit of laughter. “I think I scared her.”
“It’s hard to tell how short you are, sitting on a barstool.”
“And it’s clearly hard to tell who you are from behind.” Enne sipped her drink. “In fact, I wonder if she recognized you at all.”
Levi shot her a look that was both amused and annoyed, and Enne could almost feel a sense of normalcy returning to them. Maybe she could pretend his smirks didn’t make her heart beat faster, and he could pretend he wasn’t looking at her like the way he was now.
Except they weren’t pretending very well at all.
Levi bit his lip. “I want you to know that—”
But Enne didn’t want to know, not when things finally felt bearable again. So she held up her hand. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Ruin it.”
He grimaced and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Will you let me drive you home?”
His sorry face really was a work of art. She wondered if he’d practiced it just so she’d forgive him. If so...well, it had worked.
“Fine,” she answered. “On one condition.”
“Anything,” he said seriously.
“You show me how to drive.”
PART II
REWARD
7
“There was a street lord whose name was a number, and he changed it every time he made a new kill. Whatever it was, he owned that number. If you said it, no matter what you were talkin’ about, he’d find you and kill you. His name remains One-One-Six, the name he claimed the day he died. That’s why none of the house numbers in New Reynes have that number. All these years later, we’re still afraid.”
—A legend of the North Side
LEVI
Levi surveyed the casino floor from a balcony. At ten o’clock, the room was at its loudest: the clicks of a spinning roulette wheel, the cheers of winners, the chatter of patrons clustered around the bar.
A month had passed since Levi and Tock had destroyed Revolution Bridge, a month since Enne had launched her stock market. In that time, with the gangs united and the whiteboots forbidden from crossing the Brint, everything about the North Side had become more. Pubs that typically closed in mornings now kept their bars open twenty-four hours. Cabarets advertised their newer, more scandalous shows with vedettes in feathered corsets parading down Tropps Street. Gangsters strutted about the streets like kings, even as their bounties climbed three or four times as high. Levi had earned more, recruited more, and cheated more than any other time in his criminal career, and now he beheld his domain below with the pride of a prize rightfully earned.
The Martingale Casino, though smaller than St. Morse and Luckluster, boasted a patronage of over a thousand gamblers every week—and it was now the Irons’ largest contract. Spotting the Irons was simple: each of them, like Levi, wore silver jewelry. The spades dealt at the card tables, the diamonds kept careful eyes on the patrons from each of the exits, the hearts performed onstage or poured drinks at the bar.
The owner of the casino, a burly man with a beard that curled at the end like a corkscrew, slung his arm around Levi’s shoulder. Now that Levi’s ribs had finally healed, the touch no longer hurt like it used to. With his other hand, the owner handed Levi a leather pouch filled with orbs.
“This isn’t due until tomorrow,” Levi reminded him.
“I wanted to give it to you myself. From my hand to yours.” He squeezed Levi’s arm. “My only regret is that I didn’t hire from you sooner. I gotta ask, how do you do it? What’s your secret?”
“There is no secret. Just cleverness.” Technically, his secret was cheating, but that was roughly the same thing.
The owner laughed. “You’ll tell me one of these days. I’ll wear you down.” He checked his watch and slapped Levi’s shoulder again. “Break time is over. I better send the other dealers back on the floor.”
He disappeared down the stairs, leaving Levi to admire his work. After years buckled down by Vianca’s demands, he’d finally built the empire he’d always wanted. He was wealthy in both volts and reputation. Tomorrow, when his six-week deadline with Vianca expired, it would be time for the donna to finally accept that Levi was more than just hopeless ambitions.
He was a legend.
A figure appeared at the edge of the balcony, a man Levi didn’t recognize. He wore dark-rimmed glasses and an ill-fitting suit. “My apologies for barging in, but I was hoping to run into you.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Levi. It had pink swirls, like some sort of carnival ride. “My name’s Fitz Oliver. I’m a—”
“I know who you are,” Levi said quickly.
Fitz Oliver was a real estate mogul who owned half the residential complexes on the North Side, and he was far wealthier than his cheap clothes would lead Levi to believe.
Levi shook his hand. “I’m here for business tonight, making rounds. I can’t really—”
“I’ll only take a moment of your time.” He smiled until Levi reluctantly shoved the business card into his jacket pocket. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, the North Side is due for a change next summer.”
“You mean the boardwalk,” Levi answered. He’d heard some talk about that. He didn’t realize it would open in less than a year.
“We’re hoping to open several new casinos on the boardwalk—large enough to compete with St. Morse, Luckluster, all the greats. I
’ve spoken to several other reputable dealers. But, well...”
“But I’m the best,” Levi said, grinning.
“I can’t walk down the street without seeing your face, whether it’s on a wanted poster or a tabloid. This city can’t seem to make up its mind about who it loves and who it despises.”
Levi couldn’t tell if that was meant to flatter him or not. “All that matters is people are talking.”
“Nothing is decided,” Fitz said hastily. “But we’d welcome you to contact us.”
“Just to be clear,” Levi said, clearing his throat. “This would be about—”
“Purchasing a casino, yes.”
Levi’s heart stuttered. He’d always thought about owning his own gambling joint someday, a sort of wistful dream that any card dealer might have.
Two months ago, he’d been broke, scrambling to pay back the final investors of Vianca’s scam and hold the Irons together.
Now, he had the whole city within his grasp.
“Well, thank you for considering me,” Levi said smoothly, despite his stomach twisting into excited knots. “I’ll give you a ring at some point. I have some ideas that might interest you.”
“And we’d be happy to hear them,” he answered. “But I warn you—the real estate doesn’t come cheap. It’ll be nearly sixty thousand volts—with a fifteen-thousand-volt down payment.”
Levi nearly choked. Sixty thousand volts was six times higher than the payment he’d once owed Sedric Torren. Six times higher than the bounty the City of Sin currently had placed on his life.
“I’m sure that can also be arranged,” Levi managed. He held out his hand for Fitz to shake. “I’d be careful talking about new dens around the Casino District, though. People might think you’re trying to steal their dealers.”
The man stood up and tipped his hat. “Why steal theirs when I could have yours?”
“What’s this?” the owner of the casino asked at the top of the stairs, Tock lingering behind him. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Not at all,” Fitz answered. “I was just leaving.” He grasped the owner’s hand in a polite shake and left before he needed to introduce himself.
Levi avoided the owner’s curious gaze, focusing on his third. “Tock?” he said. “Why are you here? I thought you took the night off.” Lately, Tock had been taking a lot of nights off, and the Irons gossiped that she’d met someone she didn’t want them to know about. “Stood up, were you?”
Tock rolled her eyes. “Just because you openly brood about your romantic woes doesn’t mean I have to.”
The owner let out a holler. “Romantic woes? Levi must be the richest person in the North Side. I can’t imagine him having any trouble.”
Levi was about to respond coolly that Tock was joking, but Tock cut in. “The richest man, you mean.” She shot Levi a pointed look.
He scowled. Even though they’d repaired their friendship over the past few weeks, that didn’t mean he wanted to think about Enne when he was otherwise having a great night. Not when he couldn’t be with her in the way he wanted to.
“I came to tell you that Tommy didn’t show up after his break,” Tock said. “It’s been ten minutes.”
The owner shrugged and slapped Levi on the shoulder for the third time, making Levi scowl with irritation. They weren’t that chummy. “That’s not long enough to worry. Besides, we have a replacement! Levi can step in for him. Just until he gets back.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Levi responded. He hadn’t dealt cards since St. Morse.
“Nonsense, it would give everyone something to talk about. You still got it, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Levi said, straightening his jacket. “If it’s only one round...” Before he left, he leaned in and whispered to Tock, “But look around for Tommy, will you? It isn’t like him to be late.” Then he gave the owner a polite nod goodbye and slipped downstairs.
The casino itself was a repurposed theater, and the Tropps tables occupied the former orchestra pit. The players at Tommy’s table, who’d been sipping at empty drink glasses and checking their watches, widened their eyes as Levi slid into the dealer’s chair. Other gamblers at nearby tables turned their attention away from their games to stare. Only in New Reynes would a wanted criminal be treated like a celebrity.
“I hope you don’t mind the switch,” Levi told the players, and even those with the most experienced poker faces stuttered out awkward pleasantries. He shuffled the cards and handed them to the nearest player to split.
Levi had dealt many games in the past: poker, blackjack, pilfer. But Tropps was his favorite. In Tropps, the dealer was an equal player in the game. He dealt everyone three cards and examined the king of clubs in his hand. It was lucky to start out the game with a high card.
As the rounds went by, the guests continued to fill up the pot. No one, it seemed, wanted to fold, and Levi realized with unease how much pressure was riding on this single game. It had seemed meaningless at first—he was only filling Tommy’s spot on a standard Friday night shift.
But he wasn’t Tommy.
Many considered him the best Tropps player in the city. He led a gang of gamblers, and he was currently New Reynes’s most notorious and favorite criminal. Every public appearance defined his reputation now. It didn’t matter if he was rusty; he couldn’t afford to lose.
It was lucky he continued to draw good cards.
The other players pushed and pushed him, and by the end of all nine rounds, only two of them had folded. The three remaining gamblers revealed their cards, and Levi was relieved to see that his hand was the strongest; a straight flush.
Levi flashed a victorious smile. “That’s one for the house,” he said, sliding the pot toward him. Tommy owed him a favor for this—it was quite the haul.
Tock tapped him on the shoulder and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Tommy isn’t back yet, but look—” She hiked up the bottom of her dress and pulled out a gun strapped beneath it. “We found this on the floor near the coat room. Stella said it’s Tommy’s.”
Levi stood up from his seat, heart pounding. “You’ll have to excuse us,” he told the guests, then he quickly pulled Tock aside. “Were there any signs of a struggle?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“What’s the closest exit to the coat room?”
“The front door.”
Levi nodded, and the two of them walked briskly out of the room. Once they made it to the lobby, they broke into a run. He pushed open one of the sets of dramatic gold doors onto Tropps Street, bright with neon signs and beckoning window displays.
Tommy was nowhere in sight.
“Don’t panic,” Tock said, her voice hitched. “Maybe Tommy just...lost track of time?”
“Doubtful,” Levi answered. “He’s one of our most reliable dealers. He wouldn’t just wander off.” He scanned the area, his mind racing. If Tommy had been abducted by a bounty hunter and turned in to the whiteboots, then he would hang. That meant Levi’s best hope was that the bounty hunter would try to ransom him back to the Irons—if Levi was even given that chance. People didn’t exactly associate gang lords with that kind of compassion.
Despite Tock’s warning not to panic, her wide eyes as she scanned the passersby told Levi she was thinking the same thing. He kicked at the curb in frustration.
“Where’s the nearest parking garage?” Levi asked. Even in the City of Sin, you couldn’t get away with openly dragging someone down Tropps Street.
“Under the casino.”
They tore through the crowds around the side street, making their way to the garage’s entrance. They sprinted, pistols in hand, down the slope to the first level. The lights above them flickered, and despite the commotion of the city outside, in here, it was eerily silent.
Levi nodded at Tock, and the two of them split up—him taking the right side, her beyond a barrier to the left. He treaded carefully down the center of the lot, clutching his gun
down by his hip with both hands. His gaze shifted through car windows, searching for movement.
He’s already gone. Levi cursed.
Tires screeched loudly behind him. He whipped around to spot a black car speeding in his direction. Levi lifted his gun and fired at the driver’s seat. The dashboard cracked but didn’t shatter. He leaped out of the car’s path just before it collided with him, and landed painfully on the hood of another car.
“What was that?” he heard Tock call from far away.
Levi stood up and turned in time to see a second car driving toward him from a different direction, a gun brandished out the window. Levi ducked behind another car and held his arms over his head as bullets fired and glass shattered all around.
Muck. Muck. Muck.
His back hit the garage’s cement wall as both cars skidded to a halt in front of him, blocking his only escape route. The driver who’d shot at him climbed out of his car. He wore a black suit appropriate for an upscale casino.
Or a funeral.
Both he and Levi raised their guns. Levi slowly rose to his feet, his heart pounding so hard he thought he’d burst. “Who’ll shoot first, then?” he demanded, praying it would be him.
“Me,” someone else said. Levi’s stomach did a turn as the second person appeared from behind the other car. She clutched Tommy by a fistful of his blond hair. Tommy’s nose was broken, and blood ran down his face and shirt. The woman held a pistol to his temple.
Dread crept up Levi’s spine as he came to a sudden realization.
They had never come for Tommy.
They had come for him.
“Put your gun down, or I’ll kill him,” the woman sneered.
Levi didn’t even consider ignoring her. He crouched down and carefully placed his gun on the pavement, then lightly kicked it away and raised his arms.
“Let Tommy go,” he ordered, though he was in no place to make demands.
“Get in the back seat.” She nodded at her companion’s car.
