Ace of Shades (The Shadow Game #1)(74)

“You need to be careful around her,” Jac warned.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure she’s good for you.”

Levi stopped and stared at him. “You weren’t wrong—you did know too much. You were already involved. But this is why I didn’t want her to tell you everything else.”

“Because I might get nervous about my friend’s safety?”

“Because you’re superstitious, and you worry too much.” To those who still followed the Faith, the the Mizers were a subject of lore. Some claimed that Mizers were the first to have talents, and all other talents resulted from reactions to volts held in people’s skin.

To Levi, it was all nonsense. Mizers were just people like everyone else.

But that wasn’t even what really bothered him. What bothered him was that he didn’t need Jac to tell him that falling for Enne was a dangerous idea.

“How well do you really know her?” Jac asked.

“Well enough. Can we not—”

“I never met Lourdes Alfero, like you did, but I know her reputation. She’s cold, cunning and...dangerous. I’m not saying Enne is lying about who she is—I think she was just as clueless about New Reynes as she acted. But the way she knows all our street rules? How Lola said she almost killed her? All the muck about her talents and her family...”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” Levi said, and he really wasn’t.

“What did Lourdes have in mind for her? What is Enne supposed to become?”

“I don’t think her goal is to become anything. She wants to find her mother, and she wants to...” Leave. The last part disappointed him more than it should.

“Maybe so, but...” Jac shook his head, sighing. “It doesn’t matter. You’re already wrecked, man.”

Another detail Levi didn’t need Jac to tell him. “Let’s just get this meeting with Chez over with.”

They walked to the edge of the square by the old fountain, which was bone dry and covered in dust. At its center, where water had once spurted, a sculpture of a Mizer queen stood, the details of her gown’s fabric worn down by the elements. Someone, many years ago, had decapitated her. The head still lay in the fountain, its features no longer distinguishable.

Chez was nowhere to be seen.

“Think he forgot?” Levi asked, even though he doubted Chez would forget a potential payment.

“I can stop by the house to look for him,” Jac said. “You good waiting here?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Jac disappeared down an alley. Levi tapped his foot and stared at the black-stained clouds, only slivers of which were visible through Olde Town’s towers and spires.

Almost as soon as Jac was gone, Chez appeared from one of the off-shooting alleys. He flipped his knife around his knuckles and walked kind of stagger-like, strange for someone usually so swift on his feet. His massive shirt was damp enough that Levi could see his skin and all his ribs sticking out like piano keys. He’d probably swiped it from a drying clothesline on the way here.

It reminded him of how Chez had looked three years ago when Levi had dragged him out of the Brint and pumped life into him—a stranger, a kid. Chez wasn’t so self-righteous then.

Mansi followed him, a dark expression on her face. The anxious feeling in Levi’s chest tightened.

“’Lo, Pup,” Chez said.

“Don’t call me that,” Levi said automatically, all his senses suddenly on alert. Something was wrong.

Chez and Mansi stopped in front of him. It was so quiet Levi could hear the horns from the harbor, almost a mile away.

“There’s been a decision,” Chez said, still twirling his knife.

“What kind of decision?” Levi asked. He looked questioningly at Mansi, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“The Irons want me to challenge you,” he answered.

Levi stiffened. Challenge was a loaded term on the streets. It meant a fight to topple the lord from his seat. A duel to the death.

“You can’t be serious,” Levi said. He stared at his third’s ribs and hesitated to reach for his own knife. No way Chez would really go through with this.

“I am. The Scarhands are under new management. It’s time we were, too.”

Levi winced. Chez wouldn’t lose sleep over Reymond’s death, but he knew Reymond and Levi had been friends. His words were meant to slice.

“I have the volts, Chez,” Levi growled. “Isn’t that what you came for?”

“They’d be a temporary solution to a permanent problem.” Chez raised his knife to chest level. “I don’t feel sorry for you. Not a bit. All that work for Vianca, and none goes to us. The Irons will be safer with you gone.”

“I saved your life,” Levi said, still in disbelief. “I’ve been your friend.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Levi looked at Mansi. Chez, he could believe. The other Irons, maybe. But Mansi? Mansi had looked up to him since the beginning. When had that changed?

She crossed her arms and turned away. It felt like a nail had been driven into his chest, into his coffin.

Maybe he deserved this. Maybe the Irons deserved better.

But he would still fight for what was his.