Levi had always thought Reymond was invincible. He wasn’t about to make that mistake again with another person he cared about. “The party doesn’t start for another hour.” St. Morse was thirty minutes uptown, but that still gave him time to dosomething. Anything.
Jac cleared his throat. “Tock, areyoustill prepared for what you need to do today?”
“I’m always prepared to blow things up,” Tock answered smoothly.
Several eyes around the room watched them, and Levi took a reluctant seat. Tock was right. He needed to trust in Enne—she already knew her part in the plan, and if the worsthadhappened, then Grace or Lola would step in.
He’d planned for everything, even destruction.
Within the next ten minutes, Jonas, Ivory, Bryce, and Harvey arrived, as well. Jonas brought all the Scarhands, who each looked as though they’d purchased their clothes second-and thirdhand from Scrap Market. It wasn’t until all the Scarhands were gathered in one room that Levi realized howlargehis gang was, maybe twice the size as when Reymond had been alive.
Then his eyes fell on one of the Scarhands, on a face he recognized but hadn’t seen in months. Mansi. His heart gave a painful clench.Why am I surprised?he asked himself. Mansi had left him, and her oath had broken. Even if she’d given it to someone he despised, it was nothing that Levi didn’t deserve. He hoped, at least, that she saw something different when she looked at the Irons now. Something better.
The Doves, though not as few in number as the Spirits, were still smaller than Levi expected. He counted fourteen of them, including Ivory and Scythe. Each wore a haunted look in their eyes and had hair bleached white.
The Orphan Guild was the scrappiest lot. Their formal attire was ragged and old-fashioned, as though they’d been dug up out of graves. Bryce, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and wearing a dress shirt several sizes too large, looked the most ragged of them all.
“I brought what you asked for,” Jonas told Levi. He reached into his pocket and produced a large pack of counterfeit silver Shadow Cards. He flipped several over to reveal that each face was the Fool.
This was the brilliance of Levi’s plan: he would leverage an old legend to write a new one. Every Sinner who held that card knew it meant a death sentence, and tonight, every partygoer in St. Morse would receive one.
“You think an ultimatum will end this street war,” Ivory sneered, “but you’re wrong.”
Lola, Tock, and Jac gaped at Ivory as though they’d never seen her before, and Levi remembered, of course, that only the lords had seen her face.
The entire club fell silent. They were in the presence of a legend.
Without warning, she drew her ivory knife and pressed it against Harvey’s throat.
Everyone around her froze, but no one made a move to stop her. Harvey looked around and paled.
“Anything I asked you right now, Harvey—would you do it?” She spoke her words against his ear, then ran a hand through his head of curls. There was something strangely possessive about her touch. Ivory was old enough to be Harvey’s mother.
“Obviously,” Harvey said darkly.
“And, Bryce, what about you? Would you do anything right now?” If possible, Harvey stiffened more.
“Obviously,” Bryce echoed, glaring at her.
“If you did what I asked, and then I backed down,” Ivory told Harvey, “you’d come for me the second my back was turned.” Her gaze met Levi’s. “You’ll give the wigheads the Shadow Cards. You’ll fill them with fear. You’ll make them swear to end the war. But whatever promises they make in this position are worthless. And worse, it’ll only show them that we’re desperate.” She pressed the knife harder against Harvey and spoke into his ear. “Killing you is a better promise. The only promise you cannot break.”
“Murdering the entire party won’t end the war, either,” Levi said hotly.
Ivory lowered her knife and laughed. “All of you! So tense.” She flicked Harvey underneath his nose, and he scowled. “I’m merely proving a point.”
“You act as though we aren’t prepared to follow through on our threats,” Jonas told her. “Those Shadow Cards will be a promise—whoever strikes against the North Side will die.”
Levi didn’t like the idea of murder, but Jonas was right—they were playing with legends, and every legend needed a shred of truth.
Their truth would be blood.
* * *
Levi couldn’t have been more on edge when his car arrived at St. Morse. Through dark-tinted windows, he watched the guests waiting in a queue in front of the building. Whiteboots were swarming everywhere, and Levi’s heart jumped nervously at the thought of them spotting him. Of course, his name would be on Vianca’s secret guest list, and every employee at the casino would know to let him inside, but he still needed to make it to the entrance. And amid the mostly fair skin of the other attendees, his darker coloring would call more attention.
The valet opened the door, and Levi slid out of the motorcar. Like always, he wore all black except for the bits of silver on his clothes. The real Fool card peeked out of his breast pocket.
Levi paid the valet, keeping his head down. As he slipped inconspicuously into the queue, he noticed someone familiar in the car behind his.
