She cringed, and their eyes met. Anything could happen in thirty minutes. They could be dead in thirty minutes.
Swallowing down his panic, Levi stretched out his legs and winced at the burning in his muscles. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, legs out. Enne, he realized, was barefoot except for the socks. Her hand was outstretched beside him.
We will survive this together, he thought, sliding his hand toward hers. But taking it would be as much for comfort as it was for desire. They were on a run for their lives—temptation never came at the proper time.
A rumbling filled the halls as a train sped through the tunnels below.
“My eyes,” she whispered. “How am I supposed to hide them?”
She locked her gaze with his, and, again, he was taken aback by how changed her face looked. How her aura had once smelled of a Gambler’s Ruin, but now also smelled of smoke.
How very difficult it was not to kiss her.
“You’re in luck,” he said, shifting nervously, knowing he should put more distance between them. He didn’t. “Because it so happens that I have the world’s most uncomfortable pair of blue contacts in my pocket this very moment. Perfect for concealing royal lineages and cheating during card games.”
“You’re mucking with me,” she said, eyes narrowed. “You’re doing that face.”
“What face?”
“That smirk of yours.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the case of contacts. “I can make you better ones, at some point. These will do for now.”
“Why do you have these?”
“A series of very poor decisions. Just put them on.”
She walked to the nearest advertisement on the wall and studied her reflection in the tarnished glass. “I don’t even look like me.” Her voice was a mix of both wonder and bitterness.
As Enne struggled to put on the contacts, Levi once again contemplated whether this was his last chance. The sirens outside echoed into the night, and when Levi closed his eyes, he still heard the sound of the gunfire that had ended the Shadow Game.
It would be easy. He would beckon her closer, grab her hands and close the distance between them. If not for her, he would’ve died tonight, and he would’ve died alone. If death was still their fate, then why shouldn’t he kiss her just like he wanted? Just like he knew she wanted, too? In Luckluster, he’d seen his desire reflected in her eyes. They might have survived the Game, but who was to say they would survive the night?
They had always been in this together.
But as she turned to him, her purple eyes now concealed with blue, a fear settled in Levi’s heart. She’d poisoned the most powerful don of the North Side. She recited street rules to herself. She was the daughter of a notorious arsonist, raised by a woman who’d lived a life within the shadows.
She was a Mizer. She was impossible.
They very well might die tonight, but the real danger stood only an arm’s length away. He could kiss Enne, in hopes of surviving the night—or he could let go of his desire, in hopes of surviving tomorrow.
“How do I look?” she asked.
He swallowed. “You look different. But the purple is gone.”
She took an unsteady breath and sat down beside him.
“Do you feel different?” he asked quietly.
“I feel...” She shook her head. “It sounds sort of shatz, honestly.”
“Try me.”
“I had the gun with me the whole Game, of course,” she explained. “But I couldn’t reach for it. Semper said something about the Game binding the players the moment we entered the House, so no cheating was allowed. But as soon as I touched the World card...everything changed.” Levi nodded. That was the moment he’d first noticed the new colors of Enne’s aura. “It was like I could see the magical threads of the Game, holding it all together, playing a song, and there were no more threads around me. And I could feel—can still feel—this presence in my head. Something that wasn’t there before.”
Levi’s skin prickled. Every word she said reminded him how much danger they were in, how dangerous she was. “You’re absolutely right,” he said, trying to sound teasing when really, he was terrified. “You sound shatz.”
She shoved him in the shoulder. “You should be nice to me. I can make volts now, or however Mizer powers work.”
“And you should stop hitting me. I’m more wounds than person.”
She reached out and brushed the bruise on his neck, gently enough that it didn’t hurt.
“These aren’t from Chez,” she said softly. “These are new.”
The memory of his last encounter with Chez returned to him, leaving a foul taste in his mouth. “I saw Chez tonight, too.”
Her eyes widened. “Did he try to challenge you again?”
“Not exactly. I started it. And...I also ended it.” Levi clenched his fist. He wished he could guess whether or not Chez was still alive, but he truly had no idea. He’d never meant to go that far.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she murmured.
But there was nothing else to tell. She understood, and he could already see the unease on her face.
It was the same unease he felt when looking at her.
“Tell me about what happened tonight. Everything before the Game. Like...” He reached into her pocket and pulled out the mask. “Where did you find this? Not really something ladies just carry around with them.”
Enne snatched the mask from his hands. “There was an incident, of sorts, at Scrap Market.” She told him the story. How Lola had changed her mind about Enne and about the oath. How she’d come up with the name Séance, taken from one of Lourdes’s older pseudonyms.
Then the story continued. How Vianca had called her into her office. How Enne had found Lola and stolen a car. How the blood gazer gave her the poison Enne brought with her to Luckluster.
At some point during her tale, she rested her head on Levi’s shoulder. He struggled to pay attention to anything other than the way her body felt pressed against his, and his attempt to forget his desire became a muddled afterthought. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.
“I woke up in Sedric’s motorcar outside of the House of Shadows,” she said.
The words gradually sank in. “He drugged you? Did he hurt you?”
“Only a little. I killed him before he had the chance to do more.”
Sedric Torren was dead.
“What?” he asked, even though he’d understood her perfectly. His mind spun. This changed...everything. The Torren family was without a don. The upcoming election was without a candidate. The North Side had one less monster on its streets.
“You already know I had to kill the guard, too. The one who opened the door,” Enne continued. “I keep waiting for everything to hit me, but I don’t feel bad. I don’t even feel like I should.”
“I killed the Chancellor,” Levi whispered, only just remembering now, as they confessed their sins in the dark. That would change everything, too.
Enne gave Levi’s shoulder a gentle but comforting squeeze. “He was a terrible man.”
Even so, Levi had never killed someone before. He’d never thought of himself as a killer. That was Ivory. That’d been Eight Fingers. But not him. He felt like he’d been stained in some uncleansable way, that the person he was before was somehow purer than the person he was now. He didn’t mourn the Chancellor, but he mourned himself.
The chorus of sirens outside grew louder. Several cars were speeding through the streets above, searching for them. The two held their breath as the sirens passed by the station. They had been lucky in their hiding spot for now...but soon their luck might run out.
“Vianca’s motorcar should be here soon,” he whispered, hoping to reassure himself as much as her.
Even in the dark, she looked pale. “What if the whiteboots come and we need to run? We told Vianca this is where we’d be.”
“I told you—no one takes the Mole. They’ll never find us here.”
She pressed her hand over her heart. “Don’t joke. I’m actually terrified.”
“So am I. That’s why I’m joking.”