“’Lo, Pup. You’re in a hurry.” Sedric grinned wickedly. “Do you have what you owe me?”
Levi cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. “Just about. I’ll have your volts to you tomorrow, as promised. Ten days, right?”
Sedric checked his watch. “Tomorrow starts in four hours, and we’ve waited long enough.” His tone sounded more excited than disappointed, and Levi’s pulse spiked in fearful response. “You know, I thought Chez Phillips would kill you before I saw you again.” Sedric paused, taking in the stony expression on Levi’s face. “What? Didn’t think I knew about that? All of New Reynes knows you lost your throne.”
The other patrons in the lobby passed Levi without so much as a glance, unaware exactly how trapped he was under Sedric’s gaze.
“You want your volts or not?” Levi asked, working up the courage to keep his voice strong. “Because I can’t work on those investments while I’m here talking to you.”
Sedric wrapped an arm around Levi’s shoulder, giving him a chummy smile that Levi knew better than to trust. “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink? You look like you need to loosen up.”
In his periphery, he spotted several of Torren’s men guarding each of the exits. He had nowhere to escape.
This is the man who killed Reymond, Levi thought with dread. And I have no choice but to play along.
So Levi let Sedric lead him to a bar past the lobby. All the while, he mapped the closest escape routes in his mind and kept a reassuring hand on the gun in his pocket.
The air in the bar was so thick with smoke that the lights looked like they wore halos. The figures inside were silhouettes and shadow, giving Levi the eerie feeling that he and Sedric were alone, even though they weren’t. They sat at the bar, and Sedric ordered two Gambler’s Ruins.
“So Vianca’s business isn’t doing well, then?” Levi fought to keep his face blank at the question, but Sedric chuckled affably. “Of course not, or you’d have paid us back by now. My family always knew Vianca would run St. Morse into the ground.”
“The volts will come in soon. They’re just a little late.” A coil of nausea unraveled in Levi’s stomach, and he hadn’t even had a real drink yet.
Sedric winked at him conspiratorially. “Of course they will.”
The bartender slid them their drinks. When Levi took a sip, the bourbon squirmed its way back up his throat like burning bile.
“Did you know I’m running for Senate?” Sedric asked.
“You’ll look uglier in a wig.” Levi cringed inwardly after he said it, fully expecting Sedric to punch him for the thoughtless remark. Levi might’ve carried a gun, but if he made a move for it, one of Sedric’s watchful cronies would shoot him before he even had the chance. Right now, Sedric had all the power. He could hurt him any way he wanted, and Levi would be helpless to protect himself.
Rather than punishing him, Sedric merely twisted the ruby ring around his finger. “Remind me again exactly how Vianca has been investing my family’s volts?”
“Bonds. Trades. Stocks,” Levi answered automatically. These were the words Vianca had taught him to say. “A portfolio that provides low-risk, high-yield returns.”
“Low-risk, high-yield for St. Morse, I’m sure.” Sedric twirled a finger over his drink. “Poor you. You get the risk and none of the reward.”
That was true. Vianca liked to claim that Levi got a share of profits, but Levi rarely saw a single volt more than he made during his shifts.
“My father and Vianca had similar philosophies for running their empires. Everything under the table. All hired hands. Keeping things as low profile as possible.” Sedric leaned in, as if he was truly just sharing wisdom with Levi over a couple of drinks. This was likely to be the last piece of wisdom Levi ever heard.
“But those were the old days. Favors can buy more than volts can. And I say it’s better to make friends than enemies,” Sedric said, a strange glint in his eyes.
Levi figured this was a very convoluted speech for Sedric to rationalize to Levi why he’d gone South Sider. The Torrens were and always would be a crime Family. Even if Sedric lusted after the old money and respectability of the wigheads, at the end of the day, those families had their names on libraries and hospitals, and the Torrens had their name on a casino.
“My new friends...” Sedric continued. “They’ve suspected the truth about your little scheme for a while. I was worried at first—my father had invested in you prior to his death. But as it turns out, this has all been one big opportunity for me.”
“What kind of opportunity?” Levi asked, though he didn’t need to ask anything, really. Sedric had obviously wanted to sit him down and gloat—whether Levi participated in the conversation or not didn’t matter. But speaking made him feel less helpless. He still had a voice.
“Apparently, my friends have been rather bored for a long time,” Sedric said. “They’re looking for any opportunity to play, really.”
To play.
Levi’s grip tightened on the edge of the bar.
“I’m paying you back, aren’t I? You’ll get your volts tomorrow as planned, so what’s the harm?”
Sedric’s lips curled predatorily. “It was never about the volts.”
His mouth dry, Levi took another sip of his drink. “Then what do you want?”
Sedric laughed, a deep laugh that echoed in Levi’s ears like the clunks and thuds of gravediggers piling earth on his coffin.
“I’m delivering something to you, and in exchange, they’re doing me a favor.” Sedric grinned. “Whatever I ask. That’s power, Pup. Not volts. Not sex. Not anything this city is trying to sell.”
Sedric pulled out a gleaming silver card from his jacket.
Levi remained silent as he took it. Unlike the other cards, this one had no divination prophecies. It didn’t need to. Its very existence foretold death.
The Fool. His invitation to the Shadow Game. Just as in his vision, when Levi had seen the card on the tombstone, the Fool strode toward the edge of a cliff, a wicked smile on his face.
Sedric leaned forward, so close that Levi could smell the coffee liqueur on his breath, and Levi’s stomach twisted into knots. “You’ve got two hours.”
“What?” Levi rasped, even though he’d heard him perfectly.
“Here.” Sedric reached into Levi’s jacket pocket and pulled out his flask. Levi was so nervous, so frozen, he let him. Then Sedric dumped the tonic water out of Levi’s flask on the floor and replaced it with the remaining contents of Levi’s drink. “A little something to keep you going.” Sedric tucked it back into his pocket with a pat. Levi fought off a strong urge to vomit. “The party doesn’t start for two hours. So run along, little Pup. This is your chance. Run before we catch you.”
Two hours.
Two hours.
Then he was going to die.
Sedric finished off his own drink and winked. “I’ll see you at the party.”
Levi nearly knocked over a table on his way to the door. Out of the bar, out of the lobby, outside to where the crisp night air bit into his skin. Sedric’s laugh rang in his ears, and the farther Levi ran, the louder it grew.
He turned the corner, half expecting to see Sedric standing in front of him, latched on to his very shadow. But Levi was alone.
He slumped against a brick wall, letting the stone scrape against his bare back as his shirt rode up. Sedric had told him to run, but Levi wasn’t thick. He knew how these things worked. If he ran, it would make Sedric’s night only more fun. Instead, he sat there trembling for several minutes, sometimes crying, sometimes feeling nothing at all.