“I know,” she whispered, and pulled her hand away.
Jac’s face burned. She still wouldn’t tell him her secret, and he now had a terrible feeling he didn’t know what he was getting into. And even worse, that his story was slipping away from him.
“Well, that’s one less opponent standing,” Harrison declared. When he spoke, his gaze was fixed on Sophia—he didn’t look at Jac at all. “I guess it’s time to play.”
LEVI
To a casual observer, when the Irons strutted into the Catacombs that night, it was a repeat performance—even if the circles under Levi’s eyes told a different story. His associates flanked him on either side, dressed in smart suits with flashes of silver—the shimmer of jewelry or the glint of a concealed blade.
Several guards stood at the top of the stairwell, and Levi noted that Narinder wasn’t among them. Then he turned and saw Narinder playing onstage, his violin propped against his shoulder, his eyes closed. Levi knew he needed to thank Narinder for letting them continue to use his club—and Tock for convincing him—but he didn’t feel brave enough to face him again. Enne would be at this meeting, and that—more than the musician, more than business—pressed anxiously on his mind.
Then I’m glad we’re both miserable, she’d snapped at him. Those words had kept him awake all last night.
After the guards confiscated his weapons, Levi made his way into the meeting room. This time, he was the last one to arrive. He’d planned it like that.
Enne looked away the moment he entered, her gaze fixed firmly on the table. Levi should’ve been strutting into this room with pride, but he stopped dead at the threshold when he saw her. All he could feel was shame, and want, and shame for wanting.
“We’ve been kept waiting,” said a woman’s voice, turning his attention away.
Levi had never seen her face before, but he instantly knew who she was. She looked maybe forty-five years old, with hair so white it appeared translucent. She wore white clothes as well, but there was something unnerving about her dress. It hung on her like a hospital gown, and its hemline was filthy, its sleeves dotted with what Levi assumed were specks of blood. She wore white bandages around her hands and bare feet that fluttered like ribbons.
For someone who had a reputation for never being seen, her eyes had a look in them that told Levi she saw everything—and a certain madness, like she’d seen too much.
“My apologies,” Levi told Ivory, trying to keep his voice steady, even though he was speaking with the most notorious murderer of the North Side. He took his seat at the head of the table and surveyed the others around him. Rebecca was missing, and Bryce, seemingly incapable of coming alone, had brought Harvey Gabbiano in her stead. Levi didn’t know Harvey much beyond his reputation: he’d briefly dated Reymond Kitamura, he was a Chainer estranged from his family, and he called himself the salesman of the Orphan Guild.
“So Revolution Bridge now lies at the bottom of the river.” Jonas smiled wide, a cigar dangling between his teeth. “Consider me impressed, Pup.”
Never before had Jonas paid him a compliment. Levi trusted it about as much as he trusted drinking water out of the Brint.
“Consider me flattered,” he answered coolly. “But now that we’ve struck back against the South Side, we need to be prepared for what’s next. Captain Hector will rally.”
Ivory let out a laugh. “Scythe told me you were entertaining fantasies of cooperation. We may all live on the North Side, but we’re not on the same team.” She waved her hands around the table, the unraveling gauze dancing between her fingers. “What do I care if each of you burn?” She said it as if considering that very possibility.
While Levi nervously loosened his necktie, Jonas snapped, “You’d go against us?”
“You’d go againstme?” she echoed. She looked around the room, and everyone stayed silent. Levi knew he should argue with her—hehad called this meeting,hehad won this wager—but this wasIvory. She was one of the bloodiest legends of the city, and Levi hadn’t spent years enraptured by those stories to disregard them and interrupt her now.
She pulled something out of her pocket and placed it on the table in front of her. It was a knife, serrated all the way around, in the shape of a white tusk. Levi sucked in his breath as he examined it. Every member of the Doves was named after their weapon of choice, and he’d never thought he’d see hers.
“Seventeen years I’ve carried this, since before some of you were even born. I’ve lived longer, fought longer, killed more. I built everything from this blade. How did you all get to be in this room?” Ivory peered around the table.
“Eight Fingers died, and you couldn’t save him,” she told Jonas.
To Bryce: “An idea that wasn’t even yours.”
To Levi: “Because ofher.” She nodded at Enne, and Levi clenched his fist under the table. That wasn’t true.
And to Enne: “I don’t even know about you.” Ivory cocked her head to the side. “Why are you here?”
“Because I was promised something,” she answered with impressive yet frightening coldness. Levi fought the urge to kick her under the table, but he no longer felt he had a right to.
“Your little stock market scheme?” Ivory raised her eyebrows. “No one will go along with it. Not if I don’t. Not if Iforbidit.”
Enne crossed her arms. “Why would you do that?”
“Because the Doves aren’t a public offering. My followers aren’t assets.”
“Your second gave his word.”
