King Of Fools (The Shadow Game series, Book 2)

by Amanda Foody

Roy grimaced as he reached for Enne’s hand to shake. “I have one condition.”

  Grace frowned and opened her mouth to argue, but Enne quickly answered, “Sure.”

  “I want to sleep in a different room.” He shot Grace a nervous glance. She bared her teeth.

  “We’ll get you your own room,” Enne told him. After they added bars to the windows and padlocks to the doors.

  Grace scowled, as though still disappointed they hadn’t killed him, but Enne was about to get exactly what she came for.

  She reached into Grace’s nightstand drawer and grabbed the key to Roy’s handcuffs. She dangled them in front of his eyes. “Now tell me what I need to know.”

  * * *

  Vianca Augustine entered the tea shop wearing a dress black enough for a funeral. It was a pleasant spot, with outdoor seating and pots of flowers lining the patio. Enne gave the donna a small wave to indicate where she was sitting, and Vianca made her way over, servers darting anxiously out of her path.

  “Where did you find a place like this?” she asked with pursed lips. The decor was very trendy, the wallpaper filled with geometric patterns rather than art nouveau swirls.

  “We’re only two blocks from St. Morse,” Enne pointed out.

  “Yes, but why are we here?”

  Because Enne was about to do something very dangerous—she was going to manipulate Vianca Augustine. And what else would sweeten Vianca’s mood better than a tea shop?

  “I wanted to talk to you about something important,” Enne told her. “And it’s a beautiful day.”

  “Yes, if you can ignore the sight of armed soldiers parading the streets,” Vianca responded coolly. “My husband was a soldier, you know.”

  “I didn’t,” Enne said. Vianca never discussed her husband. The only men she liked to discuss were those who had betrayed her. “How did you meet?”

  “At an execution.”

  Enne was saved from having to respond by the waiter, who placed a complimentary basket of tea cookies on the table. Enne politely ordered a pot of their rose hip brew.

  Vianca squinted at the menu of over three hundred choices. “I’ll try the gunpowder green. Something different.” As the server hurried off, the donna helped herself to a cookie. “I’ve never seen such a long list.” She examined the decor with a new admiration. “What is it you wished to ask me about?”

  Enne had hoped to devise her plans for the debate on her own. But the Spirits, though clever, were few in number and narrow in skill set. In order to sway the crowds, she needed more gangsters at her disposal.

  “I’m worried about the debate later this month,” Enne said, her words careful and practiced. “Prescott has been pushing ahead in the polls you asked us to run, even though the wigheads are keeping that quiet. What sort of personal protection does Prescott have?”

  Vianca rolled her eyes. “Whatever I provide. He pays no attention.” She ate ungraciously, chewing loudly and licking her fingers afterward. “Why the concern? Did my son—”

  “It was something Poppy mentioned to me,” Enne told her. “I think it would be wise to increase his guards.” She hoped saying so wasn’t too presumptuous of her, but she was saved, once again, by the waiter, who came bearing two kettles of tea.

  “Prescott will make a fool of himself at this debate, no doubt. Harrison is a clever little snake. It will be a disaster.” Vianca downed her steaming cup in one furious gulp. “My father and grandfather would be turning over in their graves if they knew Harrison was running for the First Party. That the Augustine legacy was just fodder for gossip columns in tabloids.” She refilled her cup. “Not that anything I did prompted him to such extremes.”

  “It’s not about you,” Enne said consolingly, her lies leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. “It’s about greed. You could’ve given him everything, but he still wanted more.”

  Vianca lowered her tea cup and narrowed her eyes. “I see what you’re doing. You’re not usually so...in agreement with me.”

  Enne nervously poured most of the sugar bowl into her mug. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re hiding something you don’t want me to know.” Vianca smiled wickedly. “Neither of you really could keep it from me. It was painfully obvious from the start. I don’t normally work with girls, but Levi had never brought me a girl before, either.”

  Enne took a deep breath. If she was going to sway Vianca, then she needed to rise to a status that she had never before reached.

  She needed to become Vianca’s favorite.

  Levi might’ve attained the title by resisting her, but Enne understood Vianca. All her life, she’d been trying to measure up to men who’d already deemed her unworthy, and so Enne could give her something she’d never had: solidarity.

  “I told him you’d find out eventually,” Enne told her, praying her honesty would pay off.

  Vianca let out a horrifying cackle and took another sip of her tea. “I always do. Levi will try to convince you otherwise, but he knows more old world history and manners than half the South Side.”

  The thought of sitting here and gossiping about Levi made even Enne’s sweetened rose hip tea taste sour.

  “With the curfew, the Irons are losing all their business. Levi says the North Side won’t last. It’s affecting people’s lives. It won’t be long before they riot.”

  Vianca’s green eyes lit up. “A riot? Is that what Levi wants?”

  Enne swallowed down her conscience. She knew she was crossing a line, but she needed the Irons, and Levi would never agree to her plans otherwise. They were together in a lot of things, but not in this. “Perhaps. How much longer can these conditions last?”

  “The monarchists would typically be blamed for a riot, but not if it occurs at the debate. After all, both sides are present. The whole South Side will be there. And if the Irons are running out of business, then surely they’re looking for something to do.” Vianca reached over the table and patted Enne’s hand. “He hates it when I try to help him, but it’ll sound much sweeter coming from you.”

  Enne couldn’t believe she’d done it. All it had taken was pretty words to convince the donna it was all her idea. And Vianca would never know that the riot would end with a murder.

  “I’ll tell him,” Enne said, biting down a smile to conceal her victory.

  Vianca patted Enne on the hand. “We should have appointments like this more often.” Then she gave the tea shop a strangely girlish smile.

  LEVI

  Levi popped the collar of his black trench coat and snuck down the museum’s stairs, hoping to avoid the Irons so he didn’t have to admit what he was doing. Because it was silly, and because he couldn’t afford it, and because even if he could, he didn’t deserve it. But he’d been so on edge since his argument with Jac three weeks ago that he’d needed a distraction. So in a moment of weakness, he’d made the phone call.

  Levi opened the front door, and to his horror, Tock sat on the stoop outside.

  “You’re not subtle,” she told him.

  He scowled. “I have an appointment.”

  “I know your schedule, and that’s a bold-faced lie, but sure, you have an appointment.” She waved her hand dismissively. “There are only whiteboots on every other street corner. What could go wrong?”

  “You know, it was just a few months ago that you were looking for a job with danger.”

  “It’s not me I worry about,” she grumbled. As Levi slipped past her down the steps, she called after him, “I hope your ego is worth it!”

  Levi sighed. As always, Tock knew exactly what he was up to, but all he gave her was a nod before he disappeared down the Street of the Holy Tombs.

  Enne’s Houssen was parked on the corner. Since the lockdown began, they’d spent every day clinging to the cliff’s edge of ruin. But they’d carved out a place for themselves there, however teetering, and built something good upon it.

  Levi slid into the passenger seat and gave Enne a quick kiss. “Thank you for joining me for my
appointment with destiny.”

  “Funny,” she said. “My guidebook doesn’t show ‘destiny’ on the map.”

  “That’s because it’s still being built.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You told me this meeting was important.”

  “Come on...we’ve hardly seen each other these past few weeks, thanks to the curfew. And you’re always running off to South Side parties—” his eyes wandered over her uppity dress “—wearing far too much periwinkle when you could be wearing...” He stopped, laughing at his own joke, knowing she probably wouldn’t.

  “What were you going to say?” Enne prodded.

  He bit his lip to hold back his grin. “Nothing.”

  She looked confused for a moment, then her eyes widened and she pushed him away, smirking. “And you wear far too much silver. You look ridiculous.”

  “You should take some off me, then.”

  She rolled her eyes and shifted the car into drive.

  * * *

  Fitz Oliver waited for them as they got out of the motorcar. He wore a red-and-white-striped suit, like peppermint candy, and his own motorcar was cherry red to match. He lifted his arms up as they approached, gesturing to the entire boardwalk behind him. A ferris wheel imposed on the skyline, the clouds behind it as idyllic as candy floss. The air smelled of sea and freshly poured concrete—like opportunity.

  “Levi!” he exclaimed. “I was ecstatic to get your call. And you brought company.” He kissed Enne’s hand, as though they were meeting at a party rather than behind a construction site. “Your boyfriend is about to make the best business decision of his life.”

  Enne gave Fitz a startled but polite smile. “And what exactly is the best business decision of his life?”

  “After today’s tour, he’s going to agree to purchase the largest casino on the boardwalk.” Fitz beamed and looked up at the sky, unfazed by the blinding sun. “I have a lot of interested buyers—in far better criminal standing, I might add. The deal wouldn’t be public, of course. But a mystery buyer?” He tipped his hat at Levi. “I know the value of a rumor. And what they say about you? Priceless.”

  Levi was easily swayed by flattery, even if it came from a man with expensive taste in hideous things. “Lead the way, then,” he said.

  But Enne was harder to convince. “The North Side has been on lockdown for three weeks, but you’re still interested in selling it to a gangster?”

  Levi shot Enne an annoyed look, but Fitz seemed hardly perturbed by her comment. “The boardwalk opens next summer. Do you really think the city will still be in lockdown by then? The curfew has everyone losing volts. No, in a few months, my firm believes New Reynes will look entirely different.”

  Levi was beginning to like Fitz more and more. He wrapped his arm around Enne’s shoulder as they followed Fitz across the parking lot.

  “This is the casino you mentioned last month?” Enne whispered to Levi. “Where are you finding the volts for this?”

  “I just...” He sighed. “I just wanted to see it.”

  Fitz stopped and pointed at an unpainted, half-finished structure. It was magnificently large, with spiraling towers and grand windows that overlooked the ocean.

  As Levi breathed in the smells of sea and construction, he felt a wistful pang in his chest. He wanted this terribly, but standing here, looking at it, he knew he couldn’t have it. Not just because of the volts, but because he already had everything. Wasn’t that what Jac had told him? That Levi was selfish and incapable of self-restraint?

  “Well,” Fitz said, beaming, “let’s give it a peek, shall we?”

  They followed Fitz inside, Enne pulling Levi ahead even as he froze in front of the threshold. Marble tiles glistened along the floor of the lobby, alternating black and white. Those same colors were everywhere he looked—on the wood of the attendant desks, on the columns, on the doors. It felt like walking into an optical illusion.

  Or a dream.

  Levi and Enne halted abruptly past the doors, and chills broke out across his neck.

  “Is this what you call destiny?” she whispered.

  This was the opposite of what he considered destiny. Levi hoped and wanted for things so much that he could see destiny in anything—in the numbers on a pair of dice, in the graffiti on a corner of Olde Town. But he always saw destiny as positive, a force guiding him toward something great.

  If this was his destiny, it felt like something darker. Something cursed.

  “This is what I call coincidence,” he answered carefully.

  Fitz turned around, his arms lifted up once again. “Tremendous, isn’t it?” He shot them an ear-to-ear smile. “And we’re only just getting started!”

  Fitz toured them through the rest of the casino. Each room, indeed, seemed more tremendous than the next. But even if it wasn’t exactly identical to the hallway, Levi still held his breath each time Fitz opened a new door, expecting to find a nightmare waiting behind it.

  “So what do you think?” Fitz asked finally, once they returned to the atrium.

  Levi looked at Enne. She hadn’t said anything the entire tour, only nodded politely at Fitz’s many comments. She gave Levi a thin smile.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Levi answered.

  “Think about it? But this is a dream!” Fitz said, and Levi cleared his throat at the word choice. “The boardwalk’s grand opening seems far away, but the contractors can’t wait for a buyer much longer.”

  No matter how many times Levi had dreamed of the hallway, it was still only a dream. He shouldn’t let superstition sway him from a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

  Not that he could take it, anyway.

  “How much is the down payment?” Levi asked, keeping up the charade.

  “Same as before—fifteen thousand volts down.”

  Levi cringed inwardly. Between Vianca’s request and the lockdown, he was far from one of the richest men in the North Side anymore.

  “Can I talk to Levi in private for a moment?” Enne asked, and Levi numbly let her pull him away to the other side of the room. “I think you should take it.”

  Levi gaped. “With what voltage? You were just saying earlier that it was impossible—”

  “Just look at this place. We never talk about it, but I know you see the same thing I do.”

  “Zula called it a shade. That isn’t anything good, Enne.” And he worried that dwelling on it would send their one good thing over that cliff’s edge.

  “That’s just Jac rubbing off on you,” she pushed. “You want this. I know you do.”

  “I want everything!” The desires he’d once admitted freely now felt tainted with his friend’s disdain. Because if Levi got this, he would go on to wanting bigger, better things. He might have the Irons, and Enne, and the reputation he’d always wanted, but the problem with ambition was that it was never satiated. “Besides, it’s impossible.”

  Enne slipped her arms around his waist, a touch that would normally make him relax, but the dangerous glint in her eyes did quite the opposite.

  “There is a way,” she whispered. “There has always been another option.”

  The last time she’d suggested this, Levi had immediately declined. Making volts was dangerous—even criminals needed an explanation for their fortunes. But the two of them were far from the nobodies they’d been only a few months ago. Every breath they took was already accompanied by danger.

  But the more he thought about it, the more the image of his father lingered in his mind. Levi had built a life for himself that had nothing to do with the bloody history of his family, and he was proud of that. How could he rationalize all the years cursing his father if he carried on his legacy after all?

  “Enne...” He smiled apologetically and squeezed her hand. “It’s not worth it.”

  She bit her lip, like she was considering pushing more. Instead, she only nodded. “It’s your decision.”

  The two returned to Fitz. “I’m sorry,” Levi said, with what he truly fe
lt was a heavy heart. “I can’t accept. But I really appreciate your offer.”

  Fitz’s smile fell. “Well, if you change your minds, you know how to reach me.” He handed them both fresh copies of his business card. “Can I trust you to show yourselves out? I have another appointment in a few minutes for a taffy shop.” Then he waved his goodbyes and left.

  For several moments, the two of them stood there in silence.

  Levi shook his head bitterly and wandered into the card rooms. No matter how unsettling the decor, he liked how little this place resembled St. Morse. Inside that casino, he always felt trapped beneath Vianca’s shadow.

  He leaned against a white card table—they, too, alternated colors—and tried to imagine himself owning it.

  “Jac would probably hate this place,” he said.

  Enne wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You can’t keep punishing yourself for what happened. You’ve been friends for years. You’ll get through this.”

  But Levi thought of the words flung between them that day, and he wasn’t so sure. Lately, he wasn’t sure of anything—not his instincts, not his survival, not his destiny.

  “A long time ago, before I came to New Reynes,” Levi said, “someone in my life taught me to believe that I needed to be punished for every mistake.” He’d never talked to Enne about his father before, and he almost felt silly bringing it up now. It was a lifetime ago—sometimes, he even forgot his father’s voice. But he’d never forgotten his father’s lessons. “I thought I had unlearned all of that since then, but I guess you never really do.”

  Enne pressed her head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  She took his hand and interlaced their fingers. He liked the gesture, how it reminded him that they were in this together. Enne was by far the most dangerous of all the things he wanted, but truthfully, even if the whole cliff collapsed, it would feel so sweet to fall.

  With his other hand, he pulled her into him. Someone could happen upon them, but he didn’t care.

  “I have something I need to tell you,” Enne said warily, lifting her head to look at him. “Vianca is giving us another assignment.”