“My family were monsters,” Sophia explained, picking at her already chipped red nail polish. “I knew I needed an advantage in order to end their business, once and for all. And so I asked the Bargainer for them to stop recognizing me. For them to look at me and see a face different from my own.” Sophia still couldn’t bring herself to look at the girls. Her cheeks burned. And after a moment’s silence, she blurted, “I don’t regret it. It worked. But I’d still like my split talent and memories back.”
Poppy rested her hand on hers. “I think what you did was brave.”
Sophia had never thought of herself as brave. She’d thought of herself as burdened. “I knew the evils they’d done better than anyone. That made them my responsibility.”
There was another flash of a camera, and Sophia tried to imagine what the headline would claim tomorrow. If the two ballerinas wanted press, they should’ve come here alone, otherwise they looked like they’d dragged along a corrupting influence. Based on the most recent headlines of the past few weeks, featuring photographs of Enne and Levi every time they touched shoulders or held hands or kissed, Sophia knew the gossip columns would happily run such a story.
Poppy turned to Delaney. “And you. Why did you make a deal with Harrison?”
Sophia liked Poppy, and she was pretty sure Poppy liked her, too. But it was obvious what Poppy was doing. She hadn’t been interested in Sophia’s truth; she’d only wanted Delaney’s.
Rather than snapping, like she had many times before, Delaney only sighed. “Does it matter?”
“Why you agreed to do the bidding of the man who had my father killed? Yes, it does matter to me,” Poppy told her fiercely.
Delaney winced. “I hadn’t known then that he...” She swallowed. “As you know, I’m a split shade-maker, but my blood talent is dancing—from my mother. Most of the malisons and shade-makers of the city live in the House of Shadows. It’s where they hid before the Revolution, and it’s where they upkeep the shades of the city now. But my mom had no intention of raising me there. And so they cast a shade on me as a baby, so I would be forced to return once a week. So they could watch me. It was the same for Rebecca, a distant cousin of mine.”
Sophia had never disliked Delaney, but she’d never understood her, either. Delaney’s pastel everything, her too-tight ponytail, her unwavering confidence. She and Sophia were clearly different sorts of people. But now Sophia could see through Delaney’s pristine facade. Especially for someone who grew up in the spotlight, her perfection was a veil to hide her secrets beneath. If Delaney looked as though she had every aspect of her life together, no one would look too closely for the loose threads—especially dangerous ones.
“Bryce probably helped Rebecca remove her shade,” Delaney said. “And after the near collapse of the Shadow Game when Levi and Séance escaped it, I no longer wanted to be tied to the House of Shadows. So I asked Harrison to negotiate for mine to be lifted.”
Poor Delaney, Sophia thought miserably. Even from knowing Poppy barely a week, Sophia could tell from the girl’s heart-eyed expression that all would be forgiven. And after their lemonade date was over, they would make up for whatever previous falling-out they’d had, more in love than ever. Friends shouldn’t get irritated by other friends’ happiness, but still, Sophia was. She was irritated sick.
And so, while the girls whispered among themselves, their fingers interlaced and heads bent close together, Sophia turned away and rolled her dice along the velvet cushions of the booth.
Snake eyes. A lucky roll, in most games. But not for her.
Killing the Bargainer could kill me, she realized.
Sophia wished acutely that she hadn’t joined the girls for this outing—not just to the cocktail lounge, but the entire day. It would’ve been better if she’d never known about the mother who’d saved her daughter, about all the people they’d hurt if they managed to end the Bargainer’s life. In this case, ignorance was the key to a clean conscience.
Because she couldn’t simply back down. Harrison wouldn’t let her.
Maybe Sophia could explain to him. Maybe they really were alike, and he was a good man, after all.
But Sophia had not known many good men in her life. The one she had, she only kept now for moments at a time. And then he was gone.
LEVI
Levi parked his Amberlite in front of Madame Fausting’s, where a row of girls peered at him through the smears of dirt on the windows. Levi had only visited for the first time six weeks prior, and with the Scarhands long since cleared out, paid, and back to their squalors in Scrap Market, the Spirits watched Levi as though they had never encountered a boy before.
Levi knocked on the door, feeling awkwardly on display in his rented South Side tuxedo, its lapel embossed with a brocade of silver geometric designs. He loosened his necktie.
Grace cracked open the door, and a tabby cat attempted to squeeze his head through the opening. Grace cursed and moved it away.
“Come in, hurry up,” she snapped at him, and Levi shimmied himself inside, nearly tripping over the three other cats huddled by the entrance. No sooner did he collect his balance than Grace slapped a newspaper into his chest. “It’s been a month of this. You need to do better to earn Enne her pardon.”
Levi looked at the photo of himself and Enne three nights ago at a glamorous restaurant in the Casino District. Though they clasped hands across the table, their expressions were downcast, which made sense, as they rarely spoke a single word to each other on their staged outings.
But even so, the headline read “The North Side’s Favorite Couple Samples Ritzy New Restaurant.”Their performances hadn’t been as miserable as Grace made them seem. In fact, as much as Levi hated Enne’s plan, he’d call it a success. She didn’t have her pardon yet, but she hadn’t been arrested yet, either.
“Are you our publicist now?” he asked Grace coolly.
“Clearly someone needs to be, otherwise you’ll be doing this forever,” she responded, and Levi—bitter or not—respected her sentiment. He had his casino’s construction to manage. He didn’t have time to keep up this charade.
Then Grace gestured to the gown she wore, made of a green taffeta so dark it looked black. “I’m even dragging the whiteboot with me tonight. You know, so it looks official.”
“Right,” Roy said, smirking behind her. On the corner of his mouth, Levi spotted a smudge of dark lipstick in a shade that matched Grace’s.
