Page 18 of Queen of Volts

“I heard about Jac,” Harrison said slowly. Harrison had been working with Sophia and Jac to undermine the Torrens, so of course he knew. Still, Levi had forgotten that for a moment, and it jarred him to hear Jac’s name in a place otherwise so out of context. “I’m sorry. Especially for any part I played in it, when my mother found out we’d been working together.”

Levi nodded numbly, unsure how he was supposed to respond. Harrison was only being kind, Levi knew. But somehow this, too, felt like a performance.

“Thanks,” he managed, when he probably should’ve absolved Harrison of any misplaced guilt. After all, Levi was the one who should’ve considered the risks of working with him and betraying Vianca.

At that, Harrison led Levi inside to a hallway as pristinely white as the exterior.

The Chancellor waited for them at the end of it.

Josephine Fenice was an older woman, and—according to the rumors about the Phoenix Club’s immortality talent—she was far older than any person should rightfully be. All the warmth in her fair skin had seeped out like a wilted flower, making the otherwise unassuming pink lipstick she wore appear vibrant and wrong.

As a revolutionary herself, Josephine should’ve hated Levi and his orb-making talent. As Chancellor, she should despise him for his crimes against the Republic.

But instead, as he approached, the only emotion that crossed her face was relief.

“Thank you for coming,” she said hoarsely. “The others should be here soon.”

Levi nodded, and the three of them waited in an awkward silence. In the vast and empty stone chamber, the sound of the Chancellor’s tapping foot echoed, and her anxious air quelled Levi’s own nerves. The Chancellor didn’t seem to wanthishead—only his help.

The opportunist in him realized he could make a request in this meeting. He could ask for a pardon for himself and the other gangs of the North Side. He could ask for volts. He could even ask for his father to be returned to his home in Caroko, from where he’d been forbidden since the Revolution.

Levi had always sought greatness, had always been so certain where his story led, but for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure. He had been one of the richest people in the North Side. He had been a legend. But standing here, dressed in his best and gaudiest suit paid for by the fortune of his infamy, Levi realized it didn’t quite fit like it once had. The fabric constricted at his shoulders, skimmed at his ankles when it should have covered them.

He didn’t know what he’d request. He didn’t know what he wanted.

The side door swung open, and Bryce Balfour walked inside. It seemed odd to see the young man alone, without the chaperone of either his girlfriend or Harvey Gabbiano. He was tall and skinny, the sort of skinny that made his clothes hang on him and his cheeks look sunken. His scarlet eyes burned even from across the room, and his aura, black and noxious, spread throughout the air like ink seeping through water.

Levi had been so concerned about the Chancellor that he hadn’t dwelled on how it would feel to face Bryce again, so he was unprepared for the fear that flooded him. He was suddenly in the St. Morse ballroom, Vianca Augustine’s blood dripping down the edge of the stage, screams piercing from all around, bodies collapsing across the floor with every spin of Bryce’s cursed roulette wheel. He had the same urge as when he thought of the Shadow Game, when he thought of his father:run, run.

Even after Fenice’s voice wrenched him back to reality, Levi’s hands still trembled.

“Mr. Balfour,” Fenice greeted him, as though Bryce had not senselessly murdered one hundred people with a talent previously only mentioned in Faith lore. As though she really had summoned him here to talk, not to hang. “Thank you for joining us.”

“Where is the Empress?” Bryce asked. Levi realized he was referring to Enne by the golden Shadow Card he’d given her.

“We won’t be discussing games today,” said Harrison flatly. “What you’ve done—you don’t even understand—”

“I probably understand what I’ve done better than you do,” Bryce told him. His gaze turned to Fenice. “But I’m sure you understand perfectly.”

Fenice paled; Levi was surprised someone so lifeless could even do so. “Careful. I’ve only agreed to this discussion because—”

“Because you’re desperate,” Bryce said venomously, and Fenice didn’t even flinch at his words. Levi, on the other hand, didn’t like where this conversation was going, didn’t like how he felt like the one here with the least understanding of what they were talking about. If anyone should’ve commanded the power in the room, it was the Chancellor, so where did Bryce get away with speaking like that? Was it the threat of his blood talent...or something else?

Bryce licked his lips. “So, shall we begin?”

“We’re still waiting on Enne,” Levi said, his voice noticeably, awkwardly quiet. He would feel better once Enne was here, once he wasn’t so outnumbered.

“She’s already late,” Bryce pointed out.

Levi checked his watch and bit his lip. Shewaslate. This was likely the most important meeting of their entire lives, and she might’ve only reluctantly agreed to go, but it wasn’t like Enne to be careless.

But after several more minutes of standing in silence, Harrison sighed. “We’d better assume now that she’s not coming.”

“No,” Levi blurted. “She’ll be here—”

“Will she?” said Harrison, shaking his head.

Fenice took a shaky breath. “Then I suppose we have no choice but to proceed without her.” She opened the door to a conference room and led the others inside, and Levi followed with a dreadful anger in his stomach. He and Enne had shaken hands in their agreement to come here. It had seemed cheap at the time, when so much more had once passed between them. But he’d thought it meant something.