Ace of Shades (The Shadow Game #1)(106)

“Playing because...of the times?” Sedric wasn’t making sense.

“There’s a price to keep the devil away, when the devil comes knocking.” He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the motorcar. She stumbled onto the grass. “Tonight that price is you.”

As far as Enne was concerned in that moment, the city was full of devils. Sedric Torren. Vianca Augustine. Malcolm Semper. She’d paid a price to all of them already.

Very suddenly, Sedric slapped her across the face. Enne gasped and backed protectively against the side of the motorcar, her cheek stinging.

“That was for St. Morse,” he snapped. He stepped closer to her, and fear bubbled up in her throat. She glanced around, but there was no one nearby to witness—not even their driver. They were alone.

This was her chance. But his glare rooted her to the spot.

“Black Maiden is a rather uncommon flower,” he said. “Imported. Untraceable. Neither of the Families own it. Where did you get it?”

She could still hear Vianca’s words in her mind. This cannot be traced back to me. The omerta grasped a bony hand around her throat, cutting off her air.

He took a threatening step closer, and Enne instinctively lifted her arms to protect her face. “Who are you working for?”

She could do nothing but stay silent.

His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, sending millions of chills of warning down her back. “I won’t ask nicely again,” he hissed. His fingers slid through her hair and squeezed. He jerked her head back, and tears formed in Enne’s eyes from the pain. She slipped her hand into her pocket and fingered the edges of the leather case.

“Is it Vianca?” He pulled her hair harder, and she whimpered. The omerta forced her to shake her head. “Tell me.”

“No one,” she lied, slowly sliding the case out of her pocket. In some ways, that was the truth. Vianca might have given the order, but if she killed Sedric Torren, she would do it for Levi.

He slammed her head against the car door. She cried out, stars spinning in her vision. The case dropped silently onto the grass.

Please no, she thought.

“You’re lying,” he said. He relaxed his grip on her hair and instead slid his hand to her throat. His chest pressed against hers, and she tried to stretch away, to put as much distance between him and her as possible, but his hip bone was jammed painfully into her side.

He won’t kill you, she told herself. The Phoenix Club is expecting you. He already said so.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt her first.

His grip on her throat tightened. She let out an involuntary sputter.

“You will die tonight,” he growled. While he spoke, she managed to lift her calf up and hooked her finger around the strap of her heel. She carefully slid it off her foot, trying not to lose her grip on it. She was dizzy from lack of air. “It will be long. It will be painful. The last time there were two players, the Phoenix Club didn’t get to have their fun. I told them this time they could have it with you.”

Enne knew exactly which game Sedric was referring to—the night Gabrielle had played to save her daughter’s life. As anger flooded through her, Enne squeezed the heel and, with all the force she could muster, jammed it into his eye.

Sedric howled, letting go of her and covering his eye with his hands. Bloody tears dripped down his cheek. “You bitch,” he snarled.

Enne shoved him away and frantically bent down, breathing heavily and feeling around for the leather case. She found it and slid off the lid. She had only just gotten a grip on the syringe when Sedric kicked her in the side, sending her sprawling.

Then he grabbed her by the front of her dress and hoisted her to her feet. His left eye was squeezed shut, but there was so much blood, Enne couldn’t be sure there was much of an eye left. His other arm aimed, ready for a punch. Before he could take a swing at her, she kicked him in the groin and slid out of his grasp.

She landed face-down on the grass, the syringe still clutched in her first.

When she looked up, Sedric had his revolver pointed at her. He clutched his eye with one hand, and there was a feral look in his other. He laughed madly. “You really should’ve let me have my fun.”

Then he pulled the trigger.

Click.

His cursed and opened the revolver’s empty compartment. Then he looked at her, his eyes wide, as she lunged forward and stabbed the syringe into his leg.

She would not be his victim tonight.

He would be hers.

Within moments, his limp body fell on top of her, his stomach on her back. She grunted and pushed him off, disgusted by the feel of him against her. He rolled over in the grass, staring with one eye into nothing.

She shakily got to her feet and looked down at his body. She felt no remorse. Not for him, not even for herself. Rather than breaking her, her surrender left her cold and steady with anger, with resolve.

Enne picked up the envelope Sedric had given her before he’d slapped her. He’d said something about two players, which meant Levi was inside—alive, but preparing to play the Shadow Game. If she was going to save him, she needed to join him in the House of Shadows.

She picked the revolver up from the ground. She only had three bullets. From the way the music carried, she assumed the House of Shadows was far from empty. Could she burst into the room, gun raised, and force Semper to let Levi escape? Would that be enough? Or would she be shot down herself before she had a chance?