“Well, no one ever goes over there anymore, right? Your mom was the first in two centuries to even reach the fifth. It’s basically abandoned.”
“So you have parties in front of the upper Trials tunnels?”
“Sometimes.”
“Are you coming?” I asked, keeping my arm hooked with Sophie’s as I turned and strode toward the door, pulling her along with me. I still wasn’t in a celebratory mood but putting as much distance between myself and the box of Darius’s thingssounded like a good idea. And if a cup of the strongest alcohol Sophie could find was there to ease the sting as well, even better.
“If you are, I am,” he replied with a shrug, though he added in my mind,But we train double tomorrow.
As you wish, Your Highness.I shot a wink over my shoulder.
Dante rolled his eyes but followed us out of the apartment and into the dark stairwell.
The party at the eighth was just as feral as ever. Teenagers and young adults from the Deck and the Third Ring, even some from the Second, walked around in the dark, talking and laughing far louder than usual courtesy of the unholy high-proof illegal liquor that Jack and Liam Finnegan distilled in their hut on the Deck. They charged far more than the awful alcohol was worth, but at least it wasn’t regulated.
The only light came from the semicircle of dim mine lights surrounding the tunnel opening. A few teenage boys milled around just outside of the eighth, shoving one another closer and closer to the void of the closed tunnel. Nearby, a girl who was maybe eighteen doubled over and puked all over the cobblestones. Her friends wrinkled their noses and turned away while some guy I wasn’t sure she even knew held her hair and patted her back.
Classy,Dante spoke into my mind.
You’re free to leave at any time, Viper.
“Liam,” Sophie spoke in greeting as we approached the Finnegan brothers’ makeshift bar comprised entirely of discarded sheet metal and cardboard they’d undoubtedly stripped from their own home to bring to the eighth. “Three cups.”
“For you girls, it’s on the house,” Liam said with a wink, already pouring.
“No, it’s not,” Jack disagreed. He set down another full keg and glared at his brother. Sophie snorted, looking up at Liamfrom beneath her thick lashes. “You’ve got to stop giving this shit to any hot girl that looks your way.”
“The compliments are much appreciated, Jack,” I crooned, crossing my arms. The youngest Finnegan’s gaze fell on me, and his shoulders slumped.
“Oh, Adrian. I didn’t see you there. It’s on the house, okay?”
“Don’t do me any favors,” I growled.
“Listen, I heard about Darius—”
“I don’t want your pity.” I slammed a golden ring onto the counter between us. Jack frowned, but Liam leaned forward and stared at the ring with wide eyes. “That should pay for our drinks all evening. Come on Sophie.”
Please tell me you did not steal that from my family,Dante growled in my mind.
Okay. I did not steal that from your family.
Adrian.
Cosmo wears bigger rings than that on his little finger. He won’t even notice it’s missing.
At that moment, I learned it was entirely possible to hear Dantesighin my mind.
I shook my head, unable to suppress my grin, as I stepped away with Sophie. The music started. Some of the Deckers had pulled out drums made of recycled metal, other stringed instruments they’d fashioned from who knew what. It didn’t matter. Talent wasn’t restricted to the upper rings. Musicians, dancers, artists like Sophie, all existed in the bottom rungs of society as well. We might not have had the tools that the upper rings had, but the artists always found ways. I knew the band playing. Graham’s little brother was amongst them. That must have been how Sophie had known about the party.
“Adrian, he didn’t mean—”
Before she could finish, I downed one cup of whiskey, than the other.
“I’m assuming that was supposed to be for me,” a deep, masculine voice drawled.
Dante stood in front of me, a brow raised. I huffed and reached for Sophie’s hand, leading my friend onto the dance floor—and away from him.
The music swelled and more and more bodies made their way onto the open space set aside for dancing. Dante was off somewhere in the shadows, likely brooding against the tunnel wall. I didn’t care. I hadn’t wanted to hear Darius’s name or answer any more questions about him tonight. And I didn’t need the reminder his things back in the apartment and his vacant room carried.
