Enne jumped to her feet and shot the others a victorious, smug smile. While Grace slowly got up and squinted into the light, as though intimidating the sun into disappearing, Enne was already at Bryce’s side. She held out her hand to shake. “It’s a deal,” she told him.
Harvey bit his lip to suppress a grin, even as Rebecca and Bryce frowned. But Enne was no longer intimidated by them. She’d passed their tests. And she’d done it wearing pearls.
“It’s done, then,” Bryce said, and he grabbed her hand.
When their skin touched, the air around her instantly turned cold. The ghost of a thread appeared in the corner of her vision, and with it, a thousand more, much like she’d seen during the Shadow Game. Every movement and sound plucked them like eerie violin strings—all tied to Bryce’s hand.
Enne gasped and jolted away. The world, once again, grew still. She briefly wondered if she’d imagined it. Or maybe there were still reasons to fear the Guildmaster.
Bryce’s eyes widened, then the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. He raised her hand and kissed it. “It’s been a pleasure...Séance.”
LEVI
Levi straightened his tie as he waited. It was the day after his meetings with Narinder and Enne, and he’d spent all of last night in the museum, cleaning. His body ached, both from his broken ribs and from the work he’d put himself through in preparing for this moment. It was almost a good sort of hurt. His back felt stiff from sweeping; his arm muscles ached from repetitive motions. But the result of his efforts surrounded him: a clean lobby and at least two habitable rooms.
It wasn’t much—not yet. But standing there, wearing his new suit, he felt like it counted for something. For every hour spent cleaning this place, he was also paying penance for his mistakes. And he’d certainly made a lot of them.
Outside, Tock knocked on the front door, and for a brief moment, his courage faltered. He’d spent the past seven months stealing from the Irons, and even if they didn’t know that, he hadn’t faced them—all of them—in a long time.
He took a deep, shaky breath and opened the door.
Tock stood on the stoop, her arms crossed. Behind her, Levi counted about thirty heads. He didn’t recognize most of their faces, a realization that made him increasingly uncomfortable, but his eyes fell on someone familiar in the back: a thirteen-year-old girl with bobbed black hair and ruby earrings.
Mansi.
She wasn’t looking at him or the museum, just at the ground. The last time they’d faced each other, Mansi had watched as Chez Phillips nearly killed him.
Levi plastered on a smile, trying not to let his feelings of inadequacy faze him. All his confidence from the past few days shriveled away, as he watched his gang inspect the remnants of his wounds with uncertainty. He needed their loyalty—not just because the streets had turned more dangerous, or because of his ambitions, or because of his promise to Harrison Augustine...but because he had failed so many times, and he needed to believe he could really change.
And for their loyalty, he needed to put on a show.
“I know times have been hard lately. We’ve been putting in the work, but we’ve had nothing to show for it.” Levi slapped the marble of the doorframe. “Today your fortune has come.”
Some of them frowned, staring up at the museum. Admittedly, it still looked a mess from the outside, and it was probably best they keep it that way—let the place continue to appear abandoned. But most of the Irons kept their gazes fixed on Levi.
He stepped aside, letting them pass. They gathered at the foot of the grand staircase, staring in awe at the gleaming white steps and some empty, broken frames Levi had found and glued back together. Levi circled around them, careful to conceal his subtle limp.
“You might notice the frames are empty,” he said, his voice practiced, like a tour guide. “But this place will be a museum no longer. We aren’t here to memorialize history—we’re here to make it.”
They stared at him blankly. He was getting ahead of himself. Tock stood behind the group, smirking, and Levi wished Jac was here to support him. Tock might’ve come through on her responsibilities to round up his gang, but she definitely took pleasure in wounding his ego.
“You haven’t seen me in a while,” Levi continued. “And I’m sorry about that. But as you can tell, the Irons will be beginning a new chapter. And I brought you here not to enlist you, but to ask you to be a part of that.”
Levi took a deep breath as he looked them over. Even if he didn’t recognize all their faces, if he walked into any gambling den in the city, he would always be able to point out the Irons. They all had a certain look to them—glitzy jewelry meant to distract, secondhand yet expensive clothes not quite tailored to fit. They were charmers and smooth talkers, whether they were dealers or otherwise. But while they all had a look like they were up to no good, there was something alluring about each of them, in their easy smiles or slender fingers or confident ways they carried themselves. Even after they kissed you and tricked you, you’d still be walking away with red lipstick on your cheek and a foolish grin on your face.
Levi looked at them with pride. They were his, and hewouldwin back their loyalty.
He had to.
Levi led them around the stairwell to the first hallway. He’d moved a rickety desk he’d uncovered in a vacant room to this spot, to become a makeshift poker table. With his injuries, it was easier for him to sit down, and he always looked more impressive with cards in his hands.
He slid into the dealer’s seat and motioned for a few others to join him. He recognized the faces of those who sat down—his dealers. Each member of the Irons had a different tattoo depending on their work, and dealers—like Levi—wore spades. Of all his gangsters, he knew these kids the best. Many he’d taught himself.
Mansi sat directly across from him, her expression still downcast.
“What will it be, everyone?” Levi asked, loud enough that the others huddled around could hear.
The boy beside him—Tommy, his name was—tossed in a single chip. The others followed.
