There was a chance Rebecca was right, which only made Harvey hate her more.
“I’m ambitious,” Harvey blurted, and he immediately realized how pathetic and ridiculous that sounded. He wished Rebecca hadn’t caught him so unprepared. He wasn’t drunk, but this was his second Snake Eyes.
“You want to know a secret?” Rebecca asked. Before he could respond, she leaned over and took a sip of his drink. She shouldn’t have done that—her liver didn’t need the extra stress—but Rebecca had always treated herself like she was indestructible. Even now.
“Sure,” Harvey answered nervously.
“I’ve never hated you, specifically. But I hate the way you look at me. You’ve started to look at Bryce that way, too, even if you don’t mean to. Like you’ve got the Faith all over you. You’re the reason I’ve spent my whole life scared. Well, notyou. People like you.”
Harvey struggled to imagine Rebecca scared of anything. “You’re the lord of the Doves. At least, you pretend to be. I’ve spent my whole life scared ofyou.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve avoided certain neighborhoods, sure. You’ve shivered at the thought of killers the same way you might a bedtime story. But the Mizers convinced the world to hate people with talents like mine. You’ve been afraid of meeting someone with white hair. I’ve been afraid of anyone, everyone. Because there’s no marker to indicate whether or not they’d want to hurt me.” Rebecca sighed, again like Harvey was the most irritating thing in the world. Only this time, he actually felt guilty about it. “Why do you think I poisoned Ivory? Why wouldn’t I have wanted the chance to become the most feared, most powerful woman of the North Side?”
Harvey knew the history of the Faith, but that didn’t mean his beliefs were easy to shake. Especially when there was so much about the Faith he liked, that had once brought him comfort. He hated the idea that something that had healed him could hurt someone else.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, surprising even himself.
“And I’m grateful you saved Bryce’s life. How could I ever hate you for that?”
Harvey would probably never like Rebecca, but this conversation did feel like a sort of truce. It was more of a thanks than Bryce had ever given him.
“What were you talking about? About the National Bank?” he asked. “Why is that important?”
“Don’t bother,” replied Rebecca. “Even if it weren’t for the omerta, I’m not sure I trust you’re on our side.”
Instinctively, Harvey was about to open his mouth to tell her that he was, but he instead took a long gulp of his drink. No matter what his heart told him, he wouldn’t continue to be complicit.
“I thought so,” she said, but she didn’t sound angry. If anything, she sounded smug. Maybe she and Bryce had fought about this before. Harvey hoped they had. “I should go. I’ll let you get back to...drinking alone.”
“I’m not alone,” Harvey told her reflexively. If he motioned to Narinder, Narinder would come—even if that meant Harvey was a bother. Harvey definitely didn’t want to be, but he didn’t think Narinder was the sort to think like that.
“Those insecurities, Harvey,” Rebecca said, standing up and smirking, and Harvey couldn’t help but feel that Rebecca Janus did hate him, a little. “Have a good night,” she said, and then she left.
Harvey never ordered another drink, but he did sit there until the club closed, watching the bustle of it all, wondering what other secrets his best friend had kept from him.
XI
THE LOVERS
“Count your blessings.
You’ll owe for them soon.”
Jester. “Seeing Silver.”
Her Forgotten Histories
27 Feb YOR 16
ENNE
“I thought they would give us influence in the currency supply,” Grace growled for the dozenth time since the Spirits had moved into their new, respectable South Side positions at the National Bank one month ago.
Beside her, Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Right. You thought they would hand the very mechanics of inflation over to a group of eight teenage girls.”
Shortly after Enne’s meeting with the Chancellor, the Spirits had been granted a dusty, unused office space on the National Bank’s fourth floor. Her friends dressed more conservatively than Enne had ever seen them—their blouses buttoned up to their necks, the fabrics in every titillating shade of gray. They hunched in each of their cubicles, deeply focused on their work despite Enne, Grace, and Charlotte bickering in the room’s corner. In order to make the formal atmosphere of the building more like home, the Spirits had laid out a white, shaggy fur rug over the dull brown carpet, and they’d decorated the walls with the glossy advertisements fromThe Kiss & Tellwith their favorite fashion or cosmetic brands. The air of the office smelled strongly of perfume samples, and it was quiet except for the clicking of typewriters or the scratching of pencils into ledgers.
“Well, they could’ve given us something better thanauditing,” Grace said, seething. With that, she whacked a cup of red pens off of a nearby desk, making Marcy startle so much that she spilled her coffee.
