“You’re a stranger leading me through an unsightly area in an unseemly city. Of course I’m full of questions.” He supposed that was a reasonable response, though he’d hardly call his own territory “unsightly.”
Someone cooed to their right.
“Welcome to Sweetie Street,” he said, not bothering to hide his grin. He could think of no place better to watch Enne squirm.
Swarms of people stumbled down the alley, all flushed and in some degree of hungover stupor. The women dressed in dark skirts with lacy tulles, lipstick every shade of red, faces white or pink with powder. The men wore black-and-white-striped suits, with jewel-studded pipes resting suggestively between their lips. At night, the dancing silhouettes in the windows beckoned customers from all across the city with promises of warm beds and warmer embraces.
“Whatever you do,” he whispered in Enne’s ear, “don’t look anyone in the eyes.”
“Why not?” she asked, jerking her gaze from the window displays to the ground, which was covered with broken glass and sparkly confetti.
“Their talent is seduction.” He swore he saw goose bumps prickle against her skin, and he fought to contain his laughter. “You can’t let them get too close, either. One touch—” he squeezed her shoulder “—and even you would be discarding your skirts and stockings. One kiss, and you’d be overcome by an almost primal sort of lust.”
Enne narrowed her eyes like she’d realized he was mucking with her, but then a woman giggled to their right, and Enne jolted as if she’d heard a gunshot. The woman swayed back and forth, wearing only a ruby corset covered in black lace, her glitter-covered chest spilling out the front. The number ten was written across her cleavage in violet lipstick.
“Oh goodness,” Enne gasped, her gaze darting wildly between the cobblestones and the woman’s breasts. “What does the number mean?”
“Price.”
The whimper that escaped her lips was enough to send Levi into hysterics. He laughed so hard he needed to clutch his abdomen to steady himself.
“Oh, I’m glad you find my decencysoamusing,” she snapped. “So is Sweetie Street frequented by everyone in the City of Sin? Is this whereyoucome every night after...whatever illegal things you do?”
“Me? I don’t need to come here,” he said, only somewhat in earnest, but mostly because he couldn’t help himself. His cockiness earned him a disgusted but embarrassed look from Enne. “Think of it this way,” he said. “When you go back to Bellamy, you’ll be able to scandalize all your uppity friends.”
Enne laughed hollowly. “As if I need them thinking any less of me.”
“Less of you? Are you not snobbish enough for their preferences?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a Salta. There are much better, richer families at my finishing school with more impressive dancing talents. No one notices me. Most of the time, they hardly acknowledge I’m there.”
Must’ve hit a nerve, Levi thought.That was the most she’d said about herself yet. It also struck him as rather unbelievable. Her doll-like features, her determined dark eyes—how could anyone not notice her?
“Then why go back there?” he asked.
“Because I have only a year left of school before my debut. It’s why...I’d really love to be able to return before the start of term.” If Levi didn’t find the thought of a “debut” so ridiculous, he might’ve felt sorry for the longing in her voice. She was sacrificing a lot to find Alfero, assuming Alfero could even be found.
“And if you don’t find Lourdes before the summer ends?” Levi asked Enne quietly. “You’re willing to risk that?”
“Of course I am. She’s my mother.”
Levi’s stomach tightened, and—to his own surprise—he was about to say something consoling, but then she bit her lip. Maybe dealing cards made him hyperaware of bluffing, but that was a straight-from-the-book tell. He wondered if shewashiding something after all, but he didn’t press her on it.
For now.
“We’re here,” he announced as they crossed the border from Iron territory into Scar Land.
Tents, stands and carts lined the sidewalks, and people crowded around them, waving merchandise in the air to tempt customers or yelling at the kids trying to steal food and trinkets. Several paperboys approached him and Enne, advertising this week’s copy of the South Side’sGuillory Street Gossipor the North Side’s version,The Kiss and Tell.Levi grabbed Enne’s shoulders and pushed her ahead. If she spent too long gawking at everything, a pickpocket would nab her in a blink.
“This is Scrap Market,” he said. “It changes location every day, and it’s in only one place for a few hours at a time before it disappears.”
She broke away from his grasp and glared at him with annoyance. “Are all your markets like this? How disorienting.”
“No, just this one. People here don’t pay in volts—they don’t really have them. Instead, they trade. It changes time and place to make it harder for the whiteboots to find them. The goods here aren’t all legal, and it’s all under the table.”
They passed a food stand, and Levi’s stomach rumbled at the smell of sausages and sizzling bacon. He’d forgotten to eat breakfast. Enne must’ve been hungry as well, judging by the longing look she cast at the doughnut cart.
“Illegal? Then why are we here?” she asked nervously.
