“A place known as the House of Shadows.” A malicious grin spread across his face, sending dread seeping across Enne’s skin. “You might say it’s the best gambling in the city.”
Sedric opened the door and stepped outside. Over his shoulder, Enne caught her first glimpse of the House of Shadows. The name couldn’t be more appropriate—the dark stone of its exterior looked as rough and jagged as a cavern wall, and though lights danced in the windows, they were muted behind fishnet curtains. A faint bass rumbled in the air, and a flute whispered a mournful melody into the night. Beyond the tall evergreen trees lining the driveway, the city’s skyline glittered in the distance.
Zula’s warning whispered through her mind.More than anything, stay away from the House of Shadows.
On her first day in New Reynes, Levi had told her that the Phoenix Club orchestrated the Revolution and the deaths of all the Mizers, so Enne understood the risks of entering their lair. But the fear she’d heard in Zula’s voice that day—it sounded as though there was more to the House of Shadows than simply politics and history. Whatever dangers awaited her inside, it was something more. Something Enne had never known before.
Sedric handed her an envelope. “Take this to Malcolm Semper.”
She sucked in a breath. TheChancellor?He was the most powerful man in the Republic, and the leader of the Phoenix Club. Her heart clenched as she took the envelope. He was the man who had murdered Lourdes.
“They’re expecting you,” Sedric told her.
“Expecting me for what?”
“For the Game.”
Enne’s breath caught. At the edges of her vision, she glimpsed shadows. The ghost of Gabrielle Dondelair. The silhouette of Lourdes. They had both tried to protect her, but in the end, they would all face the same fate.
“Unfortunately,” Sedric continued, “I won’t be able to watch—I’m not a member of the Phoenix Club. But rest assured, I’ll be exploring the other entertainments the House of Shadows has to offer.”
She let out a shiver as she slipped the envelope in her pocket, unsure if Sedric was giving her an opportunity to save Levi, or her own death certificate.
“They don’t know who you are,” he told her, a grin playing on his features. He was relishing this. “They don’t particularly care. Times are changing—repeating, so they claim. And so they’re playing again.”
“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.
