Ace of Shades_The Shadow Game Series

by Amanda Foody

  Vianca clapped. “Delightful. Delightful.”

  Then the donna leaned back and studied Enne a second time. The presence Enne had felt during the Game—her Mizer abilities—hummed inside her, and she nearly tremored, imagining Vianca’s stare peering straight through Enne’s lie.

  “This whole act you put on is quite convincing,” Vianca purred, “but I’m starting to believe you were corrupted before you ever set foot in this city.” Vianca grabbed Enne by the chin and peered at her closely, turning her face from side to side. Enne shuddered and kept her gaze fixed on her lap, in case Vianca noticed the faint outline of the contacts. “Are you a pearl, or are you a bullet?”

  There was an unpleasant truth to Vianca’s question. Enne wished she knew the answer herself. She’d like to consider herself a pearl, but pearls were breakable, and she had proved herself not to be.

  Maybe she could be both.

  “I have excellent plans for you, my dear,” Vianca cooed, relinquishing her grasp on Enne’s face. “But for that, we must talk in the morning. I want to speak with Levi now. Send him in.”

  “Yes, Madame,” Enne responded, more than eager to leave.

  Enne slipped out the doors into the other room, and the others snapped to attention. Levi immediately stood and came to her side. “She didn’t notice the contacts,” Enne whispered.

  “Good. Anything else?” His hands found her wrists, and he turned her arms over, as if examining her for injuries.

  “She wants to see you.”

  He eyed the closed door warily, then he took a deep breath and cracked his neck. “The night’s almost over.” Enne didn’t know if he was reassuring her or himself.

  Then he molded his face into something expressionless and entered Vianca’s parlor. The door closed behind him.

  Enne tried not to worry about whatever meeting was unfolding in the other room. Levi had braved Vianca for years before she’d met him, but the way he’d braced himself before walking in, the little bit of fear in his eyes—it almost broke her heart. Because he felt just as trapped as she did, and it was a terrible way to feel.

  It was too easy to let her feelings slip out of control. It had nearly happened in the pay phone booth. In the Mole station. In the elevator.

  The Phoenix Club knew Levi’s face now. They’d be hunting for him. Enne’s purple eyes were deadly enough—it wasn’t safe to fall for someone with a bounty on his head.

  Even if she already had.

  She collapsed on the seat beside Lola. From across the room, Jac tossed her a box of spice cookies. Enne hadn’t even realized how hungry she was. She thanked him and tore into them.

  “Levi told us,” Lola said. Her eyes found Enne’s. “What have you done?”

  Enne was too exhausted for words. She wasn’t prepared for another round of Lola’s paranoid accusations. “I thought we were past this.” It wasn’t a question—it was a challenge.

  Lola shifted awkwardly. “We are. I mean, I waited at Luckluster for hours.”

  “And I told Vianca to find you. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Enne handed her a cookie. “Because we’re friends.”

  Lola nodded numbly.

  “So, Enne,” Jac said. “Does your new power thing mean we’re all about to be rich? I’m your friend, too.”

  She might’ve laughed if she weren’t so tired. Since the Game, she’d worried about her eyes all night, but somehow Jac had managed to find humor in her dangerous situation. He, too, had seemed wary of her talents before, and maybe he still was, but she also trusted him. Yes, she would also call him a friend.

  Levi, Jac and Lola—only they knew her secret. It was now the four of them against the entire city.

  “Priority number one, in the morning,” he said. “I’ve always wanted a car. Something really sleek. Like an Amoretti. In white.”

  “As if you’ll be driving in the near future,” Lola said. “You’re the second of the street lord who helped kill the Chancellor. Maybe you should talk to Vianca after Levi and beg for her protection, too.”

  Jac blanched. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Enne tried to come up with something comforting, but found she had nothing to say. Lola was right. Through no fault of his own, Jac had lost his freedom, too. “So I’m a wanted man now, eh? That means I need a street name. The other seconds have street names.”

  This time, Enne did laugh. Jac managed to find reasons to smile when there should have been tears.

  “The other seconds are scarier than you,” Lola told him.

  He raised his eyebrows incredulously. “You’re her second. You’re not scarier than me.”

  “Yes, she is,” Enne said, popping a cookie in her mouth.

  “I am,” Lola agreed. “And Enne’s scarier than Pup, too.”

  Jac pondered this. “True.” Then he shot Enne a teasing smirk.

  “I am not scary,” Enne grumbled. “I’m elegant. And charming.”

  “You can be all three,” he ceded, and Enne decided that was satisfactory.

  Her guidebook had been right about the City of Sin. It was morally decrepit. It was disgusting and rotten. It was stained black to its very core.

  But her guidebook had been wrong about one thing—it had been wrong about her. She had entered New Reynes as delicate as glass. She had even shattered. But as it turned out, beneath the dust and shards, something stronger lay within her, a substance less easily broken.

  She would never forget the ache of her mother’s death, but she would also never regret uncovering the truth—about Lourdes and about herself.

  Even deep within St. Morse, Enne could still make out the wail of sirens outside. She could still hear the echoes of engines roaring, timers ticking and guns firing.

  Her guidebook claimed the City of Sin was a game.

  She’d made her first move.

  LEVI

  “Levi, my dear,” Vianca cooed as Levi entered the donna’s unholy, unfashionable lair. “Look at you.” She tsked with feigned concern as she examined the bruises on his eye and neck. “I’m surprised you can walk.”

  He sat on a chair across from her, and it made him as stiff and uncomfortable as she did.

  “Miss Salta has proved to be quite an impressive young woman,” Vianca mused.

  He didn’t like that smile on her face. “Yes, she is,” he answered carefully.

  “Tell me—how does it feel to be a celebrity? You’ve always wanted that, haven’t you?”

  Levi had always wanted to be a legend. Maybe he was, after tonight. But he was also a target.

  He leaned back into the seat and winced from the pain in his ribs. “It could feel better.”

  “The whiteboots have searched your apartment—and this casino—from top to bottom. They’ll be leaving soon. You and the rest of your...associates can sleep here tonight, in Miss Salta’s apartment. I have my men watching every entrance and floor. Starting tomorrow, I’ve made arrangements for you to stay with a friend of mine named Zula Slyk. She lives on the Street of the Holy Tombs.”

  “We’ve met before,” he said drily. The idea of bunking with Zula and her unsettling ramblings about shades and curses sounded less than appealing. Though, admittedly, he’d live just about anywhere if it meant escaping St. Morse.

  “You know each other?” Vianca asked, surprised.

  “I know everyone in Olde Town.”

  “Yes, I thought you’d like to stay within your little territory.” She said it as though she’d kept his wishes at heart. “I’ve never understood what you see in that place. It’s a stain on New Reynes.”

  “Can we trust Zula?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes. You’re not the first runaway she’s stowed, and I’ve known her a long time. We run in similar circles.” She smiled in a way that was nearly giddy. In all the years Levi had known Vianca, he’d never seen her smil
e like that. Her yellowed teeth, her flaky lips—he actually preferred her scowl. “With Sedric removed, the monarchist party actually has a chance. Only four months left until the election—I can’t imagine they’ll find someone else suitable in time.”

  “You know I hate politics.”

  “I’m sorry—am I boring you? With the Chancellor dead, this is set to be the most important political moment since the Great Street War, and you’re at its center. You should be paying attention.”

  Levi was treading dangerous waters. When Vianca launched into one of her political tirades, there was no interrupting her for hours. It wasn’t that she bored him—he just had no desire to review the night’s events with her. She was the reason he’d nearly died.

  “It’s been a long night,” he said, hoping that would satisfy.

  “Yes, well...” She lifted her chin higher, and Levi braced himself for whatever insults she would throw at him, as she usually did in each of their conversations. “All of this business with the investment scheme—I didn’t know what I was getting us into. More specifically, what I was getting you into. And I am genuinely sorry about that.”

  Levi was too stunned to do anything but nod. He’d never heard Vianca apologize. He’d always thought remorse was beyond her.

  “I’m set on making it up to you,” she said. “I thought you should know.”

  Oh, no, he thought, sure that whatever gift she was planning would prove to be another death sentence in disguise.

  “Go rest,” she told him. “By tomorrow, the whole city will know. By tomorrow, everything will be different.”

  Levi mumbled some parting words and rejoined his friends in the other room. Lola and Jac were bickering about something, and Enne was finishing off the remaining crumbs in a box of cookies. The scene was so normal he wanted to laugh, if doing so wouldn’t make his whole body ache.

  “Vianca has arranged accommodations for me at Zula Slyk’s,” he said.

  Enne set down the box, her lips pursed. “You have to go there?”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow. Vianca offered up your apartment for all of us tonight.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “How generous of her.”

  Several minutes later, the four of them were sneaking silently down the stairs toward Enne’s apartment on the eighteenth floor. Her hallway was mainly for staff, and no one was awake at this hour—it wasn’t quite sunrise. Enne fumbled with her keys in her pocket, then unlocked the door.

  “I’m getting the couch,” Jac declared. “Dove, you can have the floor.”

  Eager as he was for rest, Levi hadn’t dwelled on the potential awkwardness of their sleeping arrangements. Enne’s apartment was very much designed for one person. One bed. One couch. He swallowed down the heat building in his stomach, creeping its way to his face.

  “The girls get the bed,” Lola said drily.

  “You changed your mind about wanting to kill her, what, yesterday? Are you sure you deserve slumber party status?” Jac then shot Levi the dirtiest, most suggestive look he could manage. As if he were being helpful. Levi’s face went hot in embarrassment.

  Enne cleared her throat, looking everywhere but at Levi. “Yes. The girls get the bed.”

  “If you think I’m sleeping on the floor,” Levi growled at his second, “you’re mucking mistaken.” Then, when Enne and Lola had disappeared into the bedroom, Levi smacked Jac on the back of the head. “Don’t do that.”

  “I was trying to help you.”

  “Yes. Don’t do that.”

  “You don’t normally need my help.”

  “Enough.” Levi kicked him off the couch and stretched out on the cushions. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but he wasn’t anticipating getting much sleep. Not with the sirens calling from the streets below. Not while thinking about Enne asleep in the next room. He closed his eyes anyway and tried to quiet his mind.

  The water in the bathroom was running. He peeked one eye open.

  “I should say good-night,” he mused out loud.

  “Yes, you should.”

  Levi gave him a rude gesture as he stood up and walked to the bathroom. Enne was in a nightdress, leaning over the sink and removing the contacts from her eyes.

  “You were right,” she said, blinking painfully. “They do hurt.” She snapped the contact case closed and turned to him, shaking her head. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot—and very purple.

  “Stop looking at me that,” she snapped.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “I already feel like I’m wearing a costume, like this isn’t actually my face.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks, as if making sure her other features were still the same.

  Jac shouted from the next room, “Oh, are your contacts gone? Do we get to see?”

  “I’m not a sideshow,” she muttered.

  Jac appeared in the doorway. He gaped at her, then gave an exaggerated bow. “You look like Queen Marcelline.”

  “Before or after she was beheaded?” Enne shoved him away, grimacing. “And look at this,” she told Levi, leading him into the bedroom. Lola was perched on the edge of the bed, looking very absurd in one of Enne’s nightdresses. She glared at him suspiciously and wrapped a blanket around herself.

  “Oh, is she showing you the ‘magic coin’?” Lola asked.

  Levi scratched his arm nervously. “Is that a euphemism for something?”

  “Lola’s just saying it like that because she can’t see what I’m talking about.” Enne grabbed a large bronze coin off her dresser, one slightly larger than her token. It was the same one she had shown to Zula. She pointed to the cameo of the king on its face. “Look at his eye. It’s purple.”

  Levi examined both the coin and Enne with mild concern. “You’ve been wearing those contacts too long.” Behind him, he sensed Lola creeping out of the room.

  Enne groaned. “I swear it’s purple. And feel it. It’s warm.” She thrust it into his hand.

  “You’ve been holding it,” he said.

  “It was on my nightstand! And you remember how Zula talked about it.”

  He rubbed his temples and set it back down. They all needed some rest. “Yes. It’s very spooky.”

  “You’re giving me that smirk again.”

  “This is just my face,” he said, stepping closer and smirking wider.

  She had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Yes. It’s very vexing.”

  “I’m sorry my face vexes you.”

  They grew silent. Levi was all too aware of the tumbling violet waves and smoky smells of her aura, of the heat of her skin, of how close they were to each other. What was actually vexing was that she was giving him that look again, that biting-her-lip, holding-her-breath look that tempted him so damn much.

  “I’m not positive when we’ll next see each other,” he said.

  “Vianca said she wanted to talk to me again in the morning,” she said, grimacing. “She said she has ‘plans.’ I’ll want to—I mean, we should talk afterward.” She flushed and looked away from him.

  “I’ll find us a place in Olde Town to meet.”

  That was how all their meetings would have to be from now on—secret. This was the life he had ahead of him, and he already knew the most dangerous thing he could do was fall for someone like Enne. Levi had flirted with disaster for over a year now, and everything in his life had crumbled for it. It was time he focused on the empire he was always meant to build. It was time he played his cards safe.

  Even if he didn’t want to.

  “It’s late,” they both said at the same time.

  “Get some rest,” she said, smiling weakly.

  “You, too.”

  Levi walked back to the sitting room with his stomach in knots. He’d made his decision. But—so help him—if Enne had called his name. If she’d turned him around. Asked him
to come back.

  He would’ve surrendered to his desire without a second thought.

  Lola and Jac were whispering conspiratorially on the couch.

  “You can stop gossiping,” Levi said flatly. “Let’s all go to sleep.” He shooed them away, lay down and closed his eyes, making it clear he didn’t want to talk.

  “We had bets,” Jac said.

  “Good night, Jac.”

  “I owe Lola three volts now.”

  Sirens blared from outside the window, which didn’t make for the best lullaby. Levi listened to his pulse beat against the throw pillow. It reminded him of the timer ticking down during the Shadow Game and those ten seconds when he’d thought for sure he was a dead man.

  But he wasn’t dead yet.

  The City of Sin was a game, but not everyone was a player. Before tonight, Levi hadn’t just wanted to play—he’d wanted to win. He’d thought all that separated the players from the observers was desire.

  That had been his first mistake. He hadn’t understood the rules. The game wasn’t about empires and legends and legacies. It was about power, and it was about death.

  It was too late to fold—the city had brutally marked him a player tonight. But if he wanted to survive, he needed to change his strategy. Desire would undoubtedly be his downfall. As Semper had remarked before the Shadow Game...

  People don’t play this Game to win, my dear. They play this game not to lose.

  Nevertheless, when the sirens finally lulled Levi to sleep, he didn’t dream of caution or escape.

  He dreamed of being king.

  EPILOGUE

  In a city several hours south of New Reynes, one less merciless and despicable, a telephone rang in the hour before sunrise.

  A man slid out of bed, careful not to wake the woman beside him. He reached for three things: an eyepatch, a robe and a gun. The eyepatch because his left eye was gone, cleaved out many years ago on the night New Reynes caught fire. The robe because he was naked. The gun because he knew better than to be without it.

  He slipped silently into the hall, where the phone was ringing. He picked up the receiver, but didn’t speak.