Narinder cast a look around the club. “Scavenger, Scythe, and the Guildmaster have already left. As far as I’m concerned, this night has played out without incident.”
Jac laughed darkly. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Then, when Levi shot him an annoyed look, Jac scratched his head sheepishly and slid out from the booth. “I’m going to find the others. Well, actually, that might be a bad idea.” He looked up and scanned the crowd, meeting the gaze of a girl who had been giving him eyes for the past five minutes. “And that looks like a worse idea.” With that, Jac slipped off.
Within moments of being alone with Narinder, the bartender returned with their drinks. Levi took Jac’s as well, and quickly downed them both. The guilt quieted in a rush of bourbon.
“Do you know what people are saying about you?” Narinder’s lips tilted into a smile as he slid to Levi’s side. “Nearly everyone I spoke to tonight had a different take on the famous Levi Glaisyer.”
Levi suppressed a grin—he couldn’t help it, even as morose as he was. “What sort of things?”
“Well, I’m not sure if all of them are true,” Narinder said. “There’s one about you winning so many volts in a night that you bled out a whole casino.”
“Thatistrue,” Levi said. “The owner was a muckhead. It was revenge.”
“I heard you still carry the Shadow Card around in your pocket.” Narinder reached into the pocket of Levi’s suit jacket and retrieved the Fool card. Even several days after the Game, even after Levi had turned it into a story, the look on the character’s face still made his heart hammer. “I see that’s true.”
Levi quickly grabbed Narinder’s hand in a mute plea for him to return the card—he didn’t want to look at it. But Narinder stilled as they touched. The alcohol had sent Levi’s mind into a pleasant sort of tilt; his gaze fixed itself on Narinder’s lips.
“You gangsters are very direct,” Narinder said, obviously noticing Levi’s stare. Even so, he inched closer and pressed a hand against Levi’s thigh.
Levi swallowed. Did he want to take this further? Flirting with Narinder was an easy distraction, but even so, he wasn’t sure. He tried to think of a reason to stop, but instead his mind kept playing the same reel of what Narinder had said, of all those he had spoken with. Narinder possessed an influence that Levi could use. And even if it was a means to an end, Levi had certainly rationalized doing worse for causes half as noble, and as far as he could tell, the only thing wrong with Narinder was that he wasn’t a particular someone else.
Levi pressed his forehead against Narinder’s. “Tell me what else they say about me.”
Narinder smirked. “That you’re full of yourself.” Levi felt his breath on his lips, sending shivers through him. He could want this. So easily.
“That’s true.”
“That you’re reckless.”
Levi traced his fingers over Narinder’s tattoo. “Yes. That’s also true.”
“That you’re a terrible lover.”
Levi faltered for a moment and pulled back, until he realized Narinder was joking. He smirked and grabbed a handful of Narinder’s collar. “Not sure about that one.”
Narinder laughed, and even that sounded like music. It wasn’t hard to see why the whole city was in love with him—Levi was equally mesmerized when watching him play his harp as he was when they were talking about business. He decided he liked just about everything about Narinder.
“That did admittedly sound phony to me,” Narinder murmured.
“Only one way to be certain.”
Levi closed the space between them and pressed his lips to Narinder’s. There was something angry about the way they kissed each other, yanking at shirts, squeezing shoulders, biting lips. Maybe Narinder was still annoyed about this morning, even if he wouldn’t admit it. But even when it hurt, none of it bothered Levi. No matter what he had to celebrate, he’d still be angry—a little bit at Jac, and a hell of a lot at Vianca, but mostly at himself.
He’d made his decision. He was kissing probably the most attractive boy he’d ever kissed. He was close to achieving the reputation he’d always wanted. So why couldn’t he be satisfied?
At some point, when Narinder’s thighs were wrapped around his and his lips were teasing at Levi’s ear, he whispered, “I’m still not convinced.” Levi understood this was more of a question than a statement.
“Where do you live?” he answered.
He felt Narinder pause to smile. “Upstairs.”
They wove through the crowds, their fingers hooked around each other’s. Levi tried to focus on Narinder in front of him, but he couldn’t resist the urge to look at the faces around him.
He didn’t find her.
They climbed up a narrow winding staircase that led to the bell tower, then stopped breathlessly at the top. The stained glass window offered a view of the entire Street of the Holy Tombs, and a good portion of Olde Town beyond it.
Views like this always took Levi’s breath away. This was his territory. His home. And there was something satisfying about looking at place you owned—that also owned you.
