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 smile 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.