“I’m grateful, either way,” Levi told him truthfully.
“I have someone for you. You could interview her now, if you’d like.” Narinder’s gaze flickered from Levi’s eyes to his lips and back again. “Well, it doesn’t have to be just now.”
Levi swallowed. He’d come here with a purpose, but maybe he could also use a distraction.
You have three thousand volts on your head, he scolded himself. But, for better or for worse, he trusted Narinder. Twice now, he’d agreed to help Levi for little in return. Levi had spent so much time clearing his debts that he forgot not every good deed came with a price.
He could get used to that again.
Levi leaned closer to him, and it only took the brush of Narinder’s mouth against his for his desire to win out.
Last time, they’d both been far from sober, but the feeling of Narinder’s hands on his waist and the honey smell of his skin still brought flashbacks of a secluded booth in the Sauterelle. Of ragtime music drowning out the sounds of their breaths. Of Enne wearing a fur coat several sizes too large and looking every bit a Sinner.
He shoved that last thought away. He’d made a promise—a mucking awful promise, he was already realizing—but it couldn’t be helped. Falling for her was no good for either of them, and kissing Narinder felt good enough to forget everything else.
Levi’s back met the edge of the couch, forceful enough to make him wince, and Narinder paused and rested his forehead against his.
“When you say you’ll be in Olde Town more, will it only be for business?” the musician asked.
“You tell me,” he murmured.
“Pay me another visit, when you’re not so bruised.”
Levi smirked. “The shiner doesn’t lookthatbad.”
Narinder’s breath was hot against his neck. “It’s no fun hurting you if you’re already hurt.”
Levi felt so dazed he barely noticed Narinder open the door and ask for someone named “Tock.”
While they waited, Levi cleared his throat, no longer as keen to return to business. “I have a free morning.”
Narinder shook his head. “Remember when I said your ego was too big to notice mine?”
“Ah,” Levi said, embarrassed. “You’rebusy. But you’re the one who suggested we wait.”
“I’m successful, not responsible.”
Someone knocked on the door, and Narinder opened it. A girl strode in, a saxophone hanging from a cord around her neck. Her short black hair looked as if she’d cut it herself, and her laced leather boots appeared military grade. She had thick thighs and a knife strapped to each one.
She smirked when she saw Levi. “You’re better looking in your wanted poster.” Behind her, Narinder gaped in exasperation.
Levi shrugged and sent Narinder a sly glance. “At least I’m wanted.”
“Levi, this is my cousin, Tock Ridley.” Narinder said it like an apology. “Tock, this is Levi.”
Levi had already noticed the resemblance. Though Tock’s tan skin was a few shades fairer than Narinder’s deep brown, they both had warm, dark eyes and brows with the same determined set to them.
“So this is why I should trust her? Because she’s family?” Levi noted.
“Yes,” Narinder said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Tock bristled and elbowed him in the side. He winced. “We’re very close.”
Levi had to admit her clothes and weapons gave her an intimidating air—a quality he certainly didn’t possess. But she didn’t look like she’d be thrilled about taking orders. “What are your talents?”
She tapped her sax. “A split music talent—”
“That’s worth nothing on—”
“And a blood talent for explosives.”
