She nervously placed the World with the other Shadow Cards she’d won. Whatever had happened, whatever she’d thought she could sense—she must have been imagining it. She was at a breaking point of fear and nerves. For a moment, she’d cracked.
In forty-eight minutes, when the timer rang, Levi would die, and so would she. She needed to hold herself together. She ignored the strange sensation and returned her focus to the Game.
Levi blinked a few times, and by the way he did it, Enne thought he was trying to tell her something. A signal. He rubbed his eyes repeatedly, but she’d stopped paying attention. Semper had flipped over the next card, and she was determined to win it. Much of her panic from earlier was gone, replaced solely with resolution.
She won the next six Shadow Cards.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Twenty-eight minutes left.
More people joined in, but only a few. Most were out of orbs. They must have all started out with different amounts.
Enne had sixteen orbs left, and even in the near darkness of the room, she could tell Levi looked within inches of death. His skin reminded her of wax paper, and all his veins showed through, particularly around his eyes.
The next round went by, and she was the only player to bet—Semper already owned that Shadow Card. It automatically went to her.
Then three people bet. Enne won again.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
She lost the next.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
And won the one after.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Twenty minutes. She still needed four cards.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
But she was almost there. She was almost there.
There were five players left, including Semper and her. The other three played every single hand. They must have believed that there was a chance that Enne would win.
She won the next card. Fifteen minutes left.
And the next. Twelve minutes left.
Then she lost. Eight minutes left.
She won. Three minutes left.
Only Enne and Semper still had orbs to bet. He flipped the Hanged Man, but they both already owned that, so he flipped another. They both owned that one, too. And another. And another. It seemed that they were after the same card.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The Devil. When he reached it, there was only one minute left.
She couldn’t lose. The presence in her mind—the one she’d imagined—felt larger and more imposing. All the threads in the room hummed. The song was reaching its final movement.
Semper dealt them each two cards, moving slowly, so slowly, and she wanted to strangle him, she was so anxious and frustrated. He was trying to stall.
He played his first card. A four of spades. She had to follow suit, and the only spade she had was the jack.
Which meant she’d lost. She’d lost, and now they would both die.
Because not only would Semper have all the cards and win the Game, but the timer would inevitably run out. Only twenty-eight seconds left.
If she played her card, she’d watch Levi die. If she did nothing and waited, she’d still watch Levi die.
Twenty-four seconds left.
She could... She could...
Seventeen seconds left.
She needed time to think. Just for a second. Just to get her bearings straight and stop the Game and tell Levi that she was sorry and—
Stop the song, whispered the presence in her head. Stop the song. Stop the song.
It was her own voice. Her own sense of self-preservation speaking. The threads hummed around her, binding everything but her. If she listened closely to the song, she could almost hear the notes skipping. Something was wrong with its tune. The Game wasn’t as it was before. The rules...the rules were broken in a way they weren’t before.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
She reached into her pocket.
Seven.
Six.
She pulled out the revolver.
Five.
She stood and pointed the gun at Malcolm Semper. Her chair screeched like the cries of someone waking in their coffin.
Four.
The women gasped. The man beside Enne leaped up to knock her over. But her finger was already on the trigger, and she fought to keep her balance.
Three.
STOP THE SONG, it screamed.
Two.
Enne obliged.
One.
The gun fired. The bullet smashed the timer into a hundred pieces of clockwork and, all at once, the threads silenced, the song cut off.
The man forced her down, and her chest slammed on the table. She gasped as his weight crushed the air out of her lungs. Someone ripped the gun from her hand.
It was Levi.
Semper reached to flip over his last card and win the Game.
“No!” Enne shouted.
Levi pointed the gun at Semper’s head and shot.
Screams. The sound of chairs scraping the wooden floor. Enne’s ears were ringing from the sound of the gunfire. She craned her neck, searching for Levi.
The table jolted as Semper’s body hit it.
“That was for Lourdes,” Levi whispered, and she loved him for it.
With her cheek pressed against the black felt of the table, Enne stared at two things: the lifeless eyes of the man who’d killed her family, and the Devil card soaking in the devil’s blood.
LEVI
“Don’t. Mucking. Move,” Levi shouted, pointing the gun around the room. The Phoenix Club watched him with wide, dead eyes and remained motionless. You couldn’t kill them with time, but you could kill anything with a bullet.
“Put the gun down,” Josephine Fenice said calmly. Too calmly. He’d just shot the Chancellor of the whole Republic right in front of her, and he would happily shoot her next. He certainly wasn’t calm.
“Let her go,” Levi ordered the man pinning Enne against the table. The man raised his arms, and Enne hurriedly straightened. Her eyes, once brown, were now blazingly violet. Her aura, too, had shifted from swirls of dark blue to a violent storm of purple and silver, deepening the original smells of coffee and bourbon with hints of gunpowder.
Auras weren’t supposed to change.
It was dark enough in the room that he doubted anyone else had noticed her eyes during the Game, but now...now the two of them held their full attention. He needed to get Enne out of here before anyone figured out who—and what—she was.
“Séance,” Levi said, even if the name sounded shatz, “go stand by the door.” Enne did as instructed, and Levi’s shoulder relaxed once she was safely tucked into the corner, far enough away that the Phoenix Club wouldn’t see her Mizer eyes.
Levi reached for the remaining black orbs and returned their energy to his body. He didn’t feel any different afterward than he had before: exhausted, the blood pumping so slowly inside him that his gears felt stuck together. Most of his life energy—whatever that was—was gone. He wondered how long it would take to regenerate.
If it ever did.
Levi backed toward the door. Every part of him ached, but muck—it felt good to move. He didn’t think he’d walk again.
“We’ll only find you again,” Josephine said matter-of-factly. “You can’t run from us.”
From the moment Levi left this room, he would be a real criminal. He’d always been a cheat, but he’d never caused enough trouble that he’d needed to hide. Starting tonight, he would be a wanted man. Wherever he ran, the Phoenix Club would follow.
Gabrielle Dondelair had lasted only a few hours.
Enne grabbed his arm reassuringly. “We’re leaving.”
She opened the door, pulled Levi into the stairwell and slammed it closed. They raced downstairs—a feat nearly impossible for Levi in his current state. Besides his multiple injuries, his body was three-quarters of the way to death. Enne had to prop his arm around her shoulder just to keep him upright.
“Enne,” he hissed frantically in her ear as she helped him down the steps. “If we see anyone at all, you need to close your eyes.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re purple.”
She tensed, but didn’t look as shocked as she should have. What had happened to her during the Game? “Did they see?”
“I don’t think so. We’ll talk about it when we’re alone.” Once they made it out of here.
This had been the room with the dancing girls, but now it was empty. Behind them, laughter and music echoed, coming from somewhere deeper in the house.