“I’m Séance,” Enne said, and offered him no other name.
His lips spread into a smile, an unnerving expression on the Scar Lord. He took a seat, rested his elbows on the table, and leaned toward the two of them. “You know, you look awfully familiar.” He peeked over his shoulder at the door, but they remained alone. “Seems a great coincidence that two weeks ago, Pup shows up with some missy to see Eight Fingers, and only a little while later, Pup and some missy are together on the front page.” His gaze roamed over Enne’s features, and both she and Levi tensed at his inspection. “Dark hair. Same height. Same voice.”
Muck, Levi thought. He’d thought they’d covered every loose end, but of course there was still Jonas. He could think of no worse enemy for Enne than one of the people who had always despised him. And now that person was the new Scar Lord.
Enne, to her credit, managed to respond, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you realize who you’re talking to?” he asked. “I’m the man you see when you need to bury a secret, when you need a new identity. I know how to find records. I know how to make them disappear. I’m curious...if I research hard enough into the name Lourdes Alfero, will I find yours, as well?”
“What would it take?” Levi asked, because he could think of no other option than to beg.
Jonas smiled and leaned back. “I’m not sure—what do I want? Other than to make you squirm?” He squinted, considering. “How much are each of your bounties, again?”
“I wouldn’t share this information with anyone, if I were you,” Enne said darkly. Levi could hardly believe her words—was shethreateningJonas? He kicked her under the table, but she didn’t even blink. “You’re right—I was the one with Levi that day. And if you searched deep enough, you could find my name.”
“Are you trying to scare me, missy?” Jonas asked, sounding more amused than he did angry. “You seem a long way lost from the South Side.”
“I might be,” Enne said, and Levi kicked her a second time. She kicked him back. “Only a handful of people know my actual identity, all of whom I trust wholeheartedly. Which is why, if something were to happen, she would know it was you.”
“She?” Jonas echoed, eyebrows furrowed.
“Vianca Augustine.”
Levi let out a mangled breath; he would’ve never played such a dangerous card. Even though Vianca was one of the few people in this city more powerful than the Scar Lord, no one in New Reynes was drawing a connection between Séance and the donna. Not like they did with Vianca and him.
Jonas’s eyes flashed with something close to fear. “I don’t believe you. Why would you tell me something like that?” Because Enne might not have come out and said it—the omerta would never have let her—but it was still obvious what she meant.
“Well, I suppose it’s just another secret I’ll have to ask you to keep.”
There were only so many times Levi could kick her under the table without leaving a bruise, but there were also only so many ways to discreetly tell her that she was acting completely shatz.
But then Jonas did something that the Scar Lordneverdid. He backed down. “Very clever. This meeting has already been more interesting than I expected, and no one’s even spilled blood yet.”
A figure appeared at the door, leaning against the frame. “Oh, there will be time for that,” Bryce Balfour said.
Levi and the Guildmaster had only crossed paths once, outside St. Morse several years prior. Bryce had recognized Levi, with his orb-maker hair and Iron tattoos, but he hadn’t seemed pleased to see him. Even the brief introduction had felt strained, as though there was bad blood between them, even though they’d never met and they were both associates of Reymond.
Two others appeared behind him. The first was a girl, who nestled her head into the curve of Bryce’s shoulder. She had golden hair that hung wavy and frizzy down to her hips, and she was attractive in an overtly sexual way—swollen lips, cleavage spilling out of her dress, pale skin flushed as though breathless.
The second figure was a man, one Levi didn’t recognize. He was tall, his black hair dusted with gray, and his light brown skin wrinkled around his forehead and eyes. Since Levi knew the Dove Lord was female, he could only guess that he was the second of the Doves: Scythe. The latest rumors claimed he’d killed over forty-six people, and, like the other members of the gang, he was named after his weapon of choice.
Scythe peered around the room, looking displeased to be in the company of those so much younger than himself. But he said nothing.
Bryce sauntered toward the table and took the seat opposite Levi, while Rebecca sat beside him. He leaned back into his chair, crossing one leg lazily over the other. “Séance, it’s a pleasure seeing you again. And Pup, it’s nice to more formally meet.”
“You, as well,” Levi forced out. He wondered why Rebecca had joined them, when none of the others had brought a companion, but after Enne’s words to Jonas, he wasn’t looking to anger anyone else.
“I admit, I’m flattered to have received an invitation. And to be in the presence of such...” Bryce looked at Levi disinterestedly “...celebrities.”
“We needed to meet,” Levi began, ignoring his dig. “We’ve all heard rumors about what happened at the Guild, but it doesn’t seem like anyone has anything specific to say. There was open fire without instigation.”
Bryce paled but maintained an easy smile. “A dreadful business.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Rebecca leaned forward, frizzy hair hanging around her, as though telling a scary story over a fire. “There’s not much we know for certain. It happened two nights ago, and it was a planned attack. A team of whiteboots—it’s impossible to guess how many—opened fire with assault rifles. It was clearly meant to be a bloodbath. Eight of our workers died. Six more were taken to the hospital and apprehended there.”
Jonas lit a cigar and leaned back in his seat. “Where did the whiteboots acquire those automatics? That’s what I want to know. Those permits don’t extend to standard law enforcement. Only the Families have—”
“We’re at war, didn’t you hear?” Rebecca snapped.
