“You hate change.”
Lola didn’t reply.
Enne didn’t like the way Lola had gone silent, or the implication that Bryce knew her second better than she did. She cleared her throat. “Is there somewhere private we could speak?” The air here was thick with tension and stares.
“Of course.”
Bryce unplugged his radio and led them through the hallway, to the warden’s office.
A girl sat in the desk chair. She was beautiful, someone who belonged on the front page of theGuillory Street Gossip, sporting the latest designs of Regalliere or taking tea at the South Side’s trendiest salons. Instead, she was in a ruined prison, wearing a dozen strands of fake gems the color of blood and drinking murky coffee out of a tin beggar’s cup. Her hair was golden blond and hung down to her hips. Her eyes were wide-set and her face soft, like a model from an oil painting. At first, she looked like someone lost, but the keenness in her expression as she watched them enter told Enne otherwise. She was exactly where she belonged.
When Bryce arrived, she got up and kissed him so passionately that Enne flushed a shade as deep as the girl’s necklaces. The display—groping hands and labored breaths—looked more unappealing than erotic, clearly meant to make Enne and Lola uncomfortable rather than show intimacy. Now Enne knew where the numerous marks across Bryce’s neck and chest had come from.
In a corner of the room, Harvey Gabbiano scowled. Enne recognized his corkscrew curls from the night she’d met him at the Sauterelle, when he’d used his Chainer blood talent to try to coax Enne into joining the Guild. He referred to himself as a salesperson, but Reymond had called him a poacher.
When the couple finally broke apart, Bryce said, “This is Rebecca.”
Rebecca looked Enne up and down. “I’m his partner.”
Harvey scowled a second time.
Enne watched Harvey with unease. When they’d met, she hadn’t been wearing this mask. But unlike the other members of the Guild, he showed no interest in her or any hint that he recognized her. His gaze only followed Bryce as the Guildmaster sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms.
“Can we call you something other than Séance?” Bryce asked.
“Séance is fine,” she answered, not wanting to compromise her identity. “Um, please,” she added.
Bryce gave her an odd look and scratched at the marks on his neck. “And what business have you come for?”
“I’m looking to hire a girl.”
“What sort of girl?”
“I don’t have anyone particular in mind,” she answered blandly.
“How...unusual. For a permanent position?”
“Yes.” Though, after paying Bryce his cut, she’d only have enough volts to compensate this person for two more weeks. Maybe whoever she hired could find a solution for their income predicament.
“Whatever you need, we can assist.” Bryce snapped his fingers. “Lola, the files.”
Lola immediately responded to the order. She hurried to the file cabinet, pulled out a handful of folders, and laid them neatly across the desk. Bryce licked his fingers and perused the papers. Occasionally, he’d show one to Rebecca or Harvey, who would shake their heads or shrug. Rebecca often leaned over to stroke Bryce’s hand or play with the edges of his shirt.
Finally, he handed Lola several files. “Go fetch these girls.”
Lola took them, shot Enne a warning glance, and left the room.
Enne took the seat beside Harvey—not because she particularly liked him, but because it was the farthest position from Bryce and Rebecca. Harvey hummed a ragtime under his breath and fiddled with a Creed necklace, one that matched Jac’s, except for the set of gold keys that shared its chain.
“You called Lola your second,” Bryce said. “Do you call yourself a lord?”
If you’d like, I’m sure you can make them call you a lady.
Enne’s cheeks reddened. “Yes.”
“Do you know how many lords there have been, since the Great Street War?” Bryce rolled up his sleeves, revealing a bandage and gauze peeking beneath one. Judging from the fresh scratches below it, Enne guessed he’d sustained some sort of injury from the attack last night. When he caught her looking at it, he quickly tucked it away again.
“No,” Enne replied.
