King Of Fools. Amanda FoodyЧитать онлайн книгу.
only the day before. But she could feel the volts in her skin constantly, pulsing in tune with her heartbeat. It was an incessant reminder that real power was so easily within reach.
“We could be rich,” she said.
He threw his head back and let out a sound somewhere betweent a sigh and a groan. “Careful. You’re appealing to my vices.”
“When Lourdes led me to you, we could think of no good reason why she’d give me your name. Now it seems obvious. An orb-maker and a Mizer, of course she—”
“Enne, do you know any other orb-makers?” Levi asked seriously.
“No.” It wasn’t a very common talent.
“That’s because almost all the orb-makers are dead. The estates in the Ruins District belonged to them, too.” Levi took a deep, steady breath. For all his broken bones and bruises, it was obvious the pain on his face right now was a different sort. It came from older wounds. “This is all very new for you. Not only did you not know your true talents until a few days ago—a shock I can’t even imagine—but you also didn’t grow up on the Republic’s mainland. There aren’t Revolution landmarks on every other block in Bellamy.” His expression darkened. “I grew up in the shadows of that history.”
Enne knew that Levi hadn’t been born in New Reynes, as much as he liked to call himself a Sinner. But the details of his past were a mystery to her. “Do you want to talk about it, then?”
“I... There’s nothing to talk about. I’m a different person now.” He said it like he was trying to convince himself. “My father’s father was the personal orb-maker to the king of Caroko.” Enne knew Caroko was the capital of one of the seven Mizer nations that existed before the Revolution. “The monarchists believe the First Party went too far after the Revolution. Families like mine, who served the Mizers, were forcefully relocated closer to New Reynes, where we could more easily be watched. My parents lost their home and the lives they knew, but they were considered the lucky ones. Plenty of other orb-makers were executed.”
Enne realized how insensitive she must’ve sounded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”
“We’ll think of something else,” he offered.
“Before I meet Bryce?”
He closed his eyes. “We have to try.”
Enne allowed a few moments of silence to pass between them. Part of her was still ashamed for her suggestion, and so she glanced at the empty space between their hands, looking for assurances.
Later, Levi had promised her. I will be the most attentive listener.
There was no one to interrupt them now.
And so she placed her hand on his.
Levi stiffened and looked down to where they touched with a pained expression.
“Enne.” All of his wry smiles from last night were gone. He moved away from her with slow, reluctant restraint. “This is dangerous.”
Enne’s cheeks burned. “Everything in our lives is dangerous—”
“This is different,” he said suddenly, almost forcefully. “I’ll help you—of course I’ll help you—in any way I can. We’re a team. We’re partners. But this...it’s not a good idea, for either of us.”
“But last night...” Enne swallowed. “You seemed—”
“It was a mistake,” he answered, looking away from her.
Enne didn’t pretend to understand everything going through Levi’s mind these past few days, while his entire life had fallen part. But a memory stirred in her of Luckluster Casino, when Levi had been a moment away from kissing her, like it was the last chance he’d ever have.
So that was it, then. She was a danger he would only risk when he had nothing left to lose.
He was allowed to feel that way, but that didn’t make it hurt less. They had faced the worst together and sacrificed for each other. She could tell he was holding back from the way he spoke, that he wanted this as much as she did.
But he’d decided he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Well, she wouldn’t push him into something he would only regret.
“I should go meet with Lola,” Enne said, as an excuse. It was silly to let her feelings get in the way of the help she needed, but she couldn’t remember last night and feel anything less than humiliated.
“You don’t need to leave,” he told her weakly.
“Don’t I?” she asked, her words somewhere between a question and a challenge.
“What will you tell Bryce? What sort of associates are you looking for?” Levi asked. “Or are you expecting to find others who follow your finishing school curriculum?”
She gritted her teeth. “No, but—”
“If you’d like, I’m sure you can make them call you a lady, rather than lord.”
The comment shouldn’t have struck her like it did. She’d heard those jokes before. But in that moment, seconds after his stinging rejection, she decided she didn’t need this sort of help.
Muck Levi’s jokes, she thought to herself, not even cringing at the curse. She’d already decided yesterday not to be ashamed of who she was. When Enne did hire her gangsters, she would do so in pointed toe heels. She would shake hands for business deals in lace gloves. She would claim herself a palace.
Enne stood up. “I should head back.” Levi made to get to his feet, but Enne quickly stopped him. “Don’t rush up and hurt yourself. You’ve been enough help today.”
“Have I?” He bit his lip. “Don’t answer that. I know I haven’t. And I’m sorry. I... I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
Enne shouldn’t feel petty. Levi was her friend—and no matter how many times he claimed they were in this together, he was allowed to draw this line between them. But she was also allowed to be hurt.
“Goodbye, Levi,” she said, and then she walked out, in the direction of an empire of her own.
The Catacombs nightclub wasn’t much to look at on the outside, all decrepit and centuries-worn. It’d once been a church to the old Faith, and the flying buttresses and unlabeled crypts along its walls still gave off the air of someplace sacred.
Levi only knew its owner, Narinder Basra, by reputation—the Catacombs was the most famous nightclub in the city after all. And while Harrison trusted Narinder enough to recommend him to Levi as a contact, Levi wasn’t sure he could trust anyone while he had a three-thousand-volt bounty on his head.
Not that I have much of a choice, he thought as he rapped on the back door.
The music inside paused. A moment later, one of the musicians—a violinist, which seemed a strange choice for a dance club—answered the door, and a cloud of pungent smoke escaped from inside. He ran his eyes over Levi with a bored expression and spoke with his cigar between his teeth. He didn’t seem to recognize Levi’s face. “We’re not open.”
“Is Narinder here?” Levi asked.
“Who’s asking?”
“A neighbor.”
The musician rolled his eyes and opened the door.
The Catacombs was an apt name for this place. The decor varied somewhere between macabre and distastefully irreverent. Surrounded by chandeliers of human bones, clacking and vibrating with each note of the music, the stage stood where the altar once had. The band