Ace of Shades (The Shadow Game #1)(118)

He sat on a chair across from her, and it made him as stiff and uncomfortable as she did.

“Miss Salta has proved to be quite an impressive young woman,” Vianca mused.

He didn’t like that smile on her face. “Yes, she is,” he answered carefully.

“Tell me—how does it feel to be a celebrity? You’ve always wanted that, haven’t you?”

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.”