“Now you have me curious.” Levi scooted closer, and her shoulders relaxed. She wouldn’t be alone in this. “Are you the long-lost daughter of some wighead—”
“I’m a Mizer,” she whispered.
He froze. “That’s not possible.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding since last night. “Scordata is my blood name. I don’t know which kingdom or family it comes from. Probably a minor—”
“She must’ve been joking,” he said abruptly. “It was a prank.”
“Knowing Lourdes’s history, and seeing how Lola tried to kill me after she told me the truth...I wish itwerea joke.” Enne grabbed one of the throw pillows and hugged it to herself. “That’s not even all of it. She said my split name was Dondelair.”
Levi choked out a laugh. “Now I thinkyou’retrying to fool me.” Somehow, he still managed one of his smirking smiles at a time like this.
She threw the pillow at him. “I wouldn’t joke about this. I’m not...shatz, or whatever you say. I know how dangerous these secrets are.”
“That’s some very unladylike New Reynes slang, you know.” He met her eyes, and she could tell he was searching for any Mizer purple hidden among the brown. She tried not to shiver under his gaze. “Before you tell me this story, I need to know—is the blood gazer taken care of? If she knows, then—”
“She’s taken care of,” Enne said quietly, remembering the hatred in Lola’s eyes after she made the oath.
“Good.” He shook his head and stood up. “I’m going to make a drink. Do you want one?”
No, her reflexes said. But she was no longer home. No longer Enne Salta.
“Oh, um. Okay. And cookies, too, if you have them.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You made a dozen the other night. How can you even look at another one?”
“Easily. While salivating.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I have a box of stale tea cookies just for you.”
Several minutes later, he returned with two glasses and a box of gingersnaps. The drink was amber-colored.
“It’s called a Gambler’s Ruin,” he said. “Mix of bourbon and coffee liqueur and orange bitters. Reymond introduced me to it. Sorry—I’m out of garnish.”
Enne took a sip and grimaced. She and the boys had very different tastes.
“You’re supposed to drink it when you’re feeling confident.” He laughed hollowly. “‘It’s flirting with losing just for the thrill of it,’ Reymond used to say.”
Then Levi downed his drink all at once. He coughed afterward and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“Reymond’s dead,” he murmured.
“What?” Enne asked, certain she’d misheard.
“Sedric Torren had him killed today.”
The hair on her arms rose at the mention of Sedric’s name. After poisoning him, it had been easy to forget how powerful he truly was. Reymond Kitamura ran the largest street gang in the city, but Sedric Torren could still order his execution and never face justice. If Sedric ever realized the part she’d played in tricking him, she’d share the same fate as Reymond...or worse.
“Levi...I’m so sorry.” She’d come here for comfort, but she hadn’t even considered that Levi might need some, as well. And now that she knew, she saw the unmistakable shock in his eyes, in the rigid way he was carrying himself. She wanted to hug him, but she was awkwardly curled up on the other side of the couch. And crawling toward him, touching him—that all felt like dangerous ground. She was already on dangerous ground with Levi Glaisyer.
Instead, she reached out and took his hand. He jolted at her touch, but didn’t pull away.
“Yeah,” he murmured, setting his empty glass down. “I’m sorry, too.”
Enne waited another five seconds—counted them precisely in her head—and pulled her hand away. She felt warm all over.
He’s not like us,Reymond had said.He’s better than us.
