Ace of Shades (The Shadow Game #1)(27)

Lourdes Alfero has to be alive, he thought. Because if she’s not...

Ten days.

Ten days to figure out how to beat his enemies at their own game.





ENNE

Enne found a mention of Sedric Torren in her guidebook, buried within a chapter called “A History of Organized Crime on the North Side.”

He was the don of the Torren Family.

He owned a narcotics and gambling empire.

He was one of the most powerful men in New Reynes.

And Enne was going to poison him.

A knock at her door summoned her from her bed. She’d fallen asleep, but she hadn’t truly rested. In her dreams, she was running through the city’s streets, reaching for her mother’s slender shadow as it disappeared down alley after alley. She’d been paying too much attention to the diminishing sound of Lourdes’s footsteps to notice the second shadow lurking behind her. It tore the jacket from Enne’s arms and ripped the purse out of her hands. She’d woken just before it had plunged a knife into her back.

Enne opened the door.

A woman stood in the hallway with a grim expression, holding a dress. “From Madame Augustine,” she said.

Enne’s hands shook as she took it and held it up to her small frame. It was pink as peonies, with a crescent moon collar and a ribbon tied around the waist, its skirt a mess of tulle and bows. It was a dress meant for a doll.

“What is this for?” Enne asked.

“For tonight,” the woman answered, already turning to leave.

“She can’t be serious.”

“It’s nonnegotiable.”

Enne had always enjoyed dressing up, especially for a performance. In a way, the outfit reminded her of a ballet costume, so as she slipped it on, she tried to convince herself she was preparing for an elaborate show rather than her potential demise. Her makeup calmed her, even if her hands were shaking. Some powder around her nose. Some rouge on her cheeks. Some tint on her lips. Whatever it took to persuade herself that she was another person, that this was not her life, this was not her end.

She repeated Lourdes’s rules to herself in the mirror.

Do not reveal your emotions, especially your fear.

Never allow yourself to be lost.

Trust is a last resort.

The words didn’t mean much now—after all, those rules couldn’t save her. She tucked the clear vial into her pocket and, on her way out the door, left one thousand volts in an orb for Levi on her table—nearly everything she had—in case he came looking when she didn’t return.

She’d never felt so alone.

*

If St. Morse were a palace, then the Tropps Room was the throne room, and greed was king. The stained glass windows, the iron candelabras, the glimmering marble floors and white tables—the room was decorated as though for royalty. The throne itself was in the center of the room, raised above the rest of the floor. There Levi sat, collecting and shuffling a deck of midnight blue cards. He was speaking to a man with slicked brown hair, fair skin and an expensive suit.

Of course Levi was at the throne. Reymond had said he was Vianca’s favorite.

Levi wore a three-piece blue suit and a green tie that matched St. Morse’s signature colors. For a brief moment, Enne allowed herself to see what the other girls and boys had seen—the girls and boys whose clothing now filled half of Levi’s wardrobe. He cleaned up nicely, and Enne had a soft spot for men in suits. She appreciated the way the jacket made him look broader, and the way his dark suit and features contrasted with the copper roots in his hair...

She stopped herself. She needed to focus.

Levi watched the man next to him while shuffling a deck of cards. He half smiled, then he adjusted his tie, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he—

Focus. What would her teachers have said? Levi was...hardly someone to admire. And even if his appearance was nice, his character left quite a lot to be desired. She didn’t feel like herself, not in this dress, not with the vial in her pocket, not so far from home.

More problematic than Levi’s dashing appearance was the fact that he was so prominently seated above everyone else in the room. She would be easy to spot, looking like a walking piece of cotton candy. But Vianca had claimed Sedric would be here, in the Tropps Room. Thankfully, Levi wasn’t directly facing her. Maybe he wouldn’t see her at all. He did look rather preoccupied with the man beside him.

If only she was wearing something less conspicuous. She was small enough that, with some luck, she could have slipped the poison into Sedric’s glass from behind him and he’d have been none the wiser. But the dress made this impossible. Enne had spent her entire life being overlooked, but tonight, Vianca had dressed her to be noticed.

A man in a green St. Morse uniform stood by the door, the pallor of his face nearly matching the white busts lining Vianca’s hallways.

“Excuse me?” Enne asked.

“What can I do for you, miss?”

“I’m looking for Sedric Torren. He promised to meet me here.” The gravity of the evening felt much more real now that she’d spoken his name out loud.

“He’s there.” The employee pointed to Levi’s table. Just as he did, the man with the slicked hair drained his glass and strode away with a swagger to his step. Enne paled. What was Sedric doing talking to Levi? “He just left.”