Levi stretched himself onto his knees, then nearly let out a scream. He was face-to-face with Shark, the man who had beaten him in the basement. Blood had pooled over the concrete step, trickling down from the bullet hole in his forehead.
“Muck.”He reached for Enne’s hand and nearly jumped to his feet. He’d accidentally laid his palm in the blood, and he hurriedly wiped away the red on his pants, feeling ill.
“I forgot he was here,” Enne murmured.
“How long has he been here?”
“Since I arrived.”
“Since you...youshot him?”
She nodded, her face grim. “Let’s go.”
Levi bent down and carefully removed his pistol from Shark’s pocket and shoved it into his own. If they were going to survive the rest of the night, they both needed protection. “Let’s go,” he breathed, reaching shakily for Enne’s arm to steady him.
Together, they raced across the front lawn and the woods adjacent to the estate’s long driveway, toward the glittering skyline of New Reynes. They could still faintly hear the ghostly music from the House of Shadows in the air.
Levi shivered. Tonight, they’d been the entertainment.
They made it to the main road and waited several moments, hoping for a carriage or motorcar to pass by so they could beg a ride. None did.
“It’s a long walk back to the city,” Enne said, her voice hitched. “They’ve probably already called the whiteboots. They’ll know we can’t have gone far.” He felt her trembling beneath him.
“We could take the Mole. No one takes the Mole,” Levi said, never so eager to ride the subway in his life. If they kept running, they’d find a station within a few minutes.
“The whiteboots will look there,” she answered. She placed a hand on her forehead, breathing deeply, trying to steady herself.
The cool nighttime wind, the agony of every step, the adrenaline of nearly dying—their reality crashed over him all at once, and Levi let out a manic laugh. “Maybe we should consult your guidebook. What does it say to do in this situation?”
Unamused, Enne grabbed his arm and yanked him down the street. He tried to keep up, but it was almost impossible to run. Standing up alone was a struggle, and the pain from his broken ribs and dislocated shoulder were enough to make him faint.
“It says we change our clothes and call Vianca,” she hissed.
“Good plan.”
They ran for a few more minutes before they reached the eastern edge of the Factory District, even beyond the realms of Scar Land. Levi couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so far from downtown. They crept down an alley between two apartment buildings. Enne pointed to a clothesline several floors above them and started toward a metal escape stairwell.
“Wait here,” she whispered, unwrapping his arm from around her shoulder.
Levi nodded, doubting he could make such a climb in his condition. He slumped onto the ground and leaned his head against the wall. The alley reeked of garbage and the odors of the Brint. Very faintly in the distance, he heard the calls of sirens. They were probably meant for them.
He was exhausted. He was beaten. He was light-headed. Even though he should’ve been focusing on their escape, his thoughts jumbled together, and he fixated on only one question.
Gabrielle Dondelair had only lasted hours. How much longer until the Phoenix Club found them?
Enne returned with several articles of clothing. She tossed him a shirt that was clearly several sizes too large. “Get dressed,” she commanded. “And turn around.”
He raised an eyebrow—they were in far too much of a rush for modesty. But still, he stood up painfully and faced the wall, hyperaware of the approaching sirens, hyperaware of Enne in some state of undress behind him. Both of these thoughts made his heart pound.
“Those look terrible,” Enne said from behind him. He realized she was looking at the swollen bruises on his back.
He shot her an annoyed look over his shoulder. Hurt as he was, he couldn’t change as fast as her. He was wearing very little. “I don’t remember givingyoupermission to peek.”
She flushed indignantly. “I thought you’d be done. Now hurry up. We need to find a pay phone.”
He grumbled and pulled up the too-big pants. Enne was dressed in trousers, a checkered men’s button-up and a pair of socks. Her dress and heels were discarded on the ground.
“I know that dress,” he said, managing a smirk. She’d obviously pulled it from his closet. “You wear New Reynes well.”
