Levi mumbled some parting words and rejoined his friends in the other room. Lola and Jac were bickering about something, and Enne was finishing off the remaining crumbs in a box of cookies. The scene was so normal he wanted to laugh, if doing so wouldn’t make his whole body ache.
“Vianca has arranged accommodations for me at Zula Slyk’s,” he said.
Enne set down the box, her lips pursed. “You have to gothere?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow. Vianca offered up your apartment for all of us tonight.”
She raised her eyebrows. “How generous of her.”
Several minutes later, the four of them were sneaking silently down the stairs toward Enne’s apartment on the eighteenth floor. Her hallway was mainly for staff, and no one was awake at this hour—it wasn’t quite sunrise. Enne fumbled with her keys in her pocket, then unlocked the door.
“I’m getting the couch,” Jac declared. “Dove, you can have the floor.”
Eager as he was for rest, Levi hadn’t dwelled on the potential awkwardness of their sleeping arrangements. Enne’s apartment was very much designed for one person. One bed. One couch. He swallowed down the heat building in his stomach, creeping its way to his face.
“The girls get the bed,” Lola said drily.
“You changed your mind about wanting to kill her, what, yesterday? Are you sure you deserve slumber party status?” Jac then shot Levi the dirtiest, most suggestive look he could manage. As if he were being helpful. Levi’s face went hot in embarrassment.
Enne cleared her throat, looking everywhere but at Levi. “Yes. The girls get the bed.”
“If you think I’m sleeping on the floor,” Levi growled at his second, “you’re mucking mistaken.” Then, when Enne and Lola had disappeared into the bedroom, Levi smacked Jac on the back of the head. “Don’t do that.”
“I was trying to help you.”
“Yes. Don’t do that.”
“You don’t normally need my help.”
“Enough.” Levi kicked him off the couch and stretched out on the cushions. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but he wasn’t anticipating getting much sleep. Not with the sirens calling from the streets below. Not while thinking about Enne asleep in the next room. He closed his eyes anyway and tried to quiet his mind.
The water in the bathroom was running. He peeked one eye open.
“I should say good-night,” he mused out loud.
“Yes, you should.”
Levi gave him a rude gesture as he stood up and walked to the bathroom. Enne was in a nightdress, leaning over the sink and removing the contacts from her eyes.
“You were right,” she said, blinking painfully. “They do hurt.” She snapped the contact case closed and turned to him, shaking her head. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot—and very purple.
“Stop looking at me that,” she snapped.
“I can’t help it.”
“I already feel like I’m wearing a costume, like this isn’t actually my face.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks, as if making sure her other features were still the same.
Jac shouted from the next room, “Oh, are your contacts gone? Do we get to see?”
“I’m not a sideshow,” she muttered.
Jac appeared in the doorway. He gaped at her, then gave an exaggerated bow. “You look like Queen Marcelline.”
“Before or after she was beheaded?” Enne shoved him away, grimacing. “And look at this,” she told Levi, leading him into the bedroom. Lola was perched on the edge of the bed, looking very absurd in one of Enne’s nightdresses. She glared at him suspiciously and wrapped a blanket around herself.
“Oh, is she showing you the ‘magic coin’?” Lola asked.
Levi scratched his arm nervously. “Is that a euphemism for something?”
