Ace Of Shades: the gripping first novel in a new series full of magic, danger and thrilling scandal when one girl enters the City of Sin. Amanda Foody

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Ace Of Shades: the gripping first novel in a new series full of magic, danger and thrilling scandal when one girl enters the City of Sin - Amanda  Foody

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her a smile. She was lucky he hadn’t cheated her. He was feeling sentimental today.

      “But you didn’t finish your story,” she blurted.

      “That is the story. Lourdes helped me out, she got me a job and then she disappeared. I haven’t spoken to her since.”

      Enne stood up, her shoulders square and her expression a challenge. He wondered if she really felt that brave, or if she was a breath away from tears again. “But you must help me. I have to find her.”

      “I must help you?” he said, taking a step closer. She wasn’t very intimidating, small as she was. Not many spoke to him the way she did. “Why should I? I don’t know you. I barely know your mother.”

      “Because...” Her voice wavered. “Because I’ll pay you.”

      “You lost your luggage. How many volts could you possibly have on you right now?” His eyes traveled from her purse to her pockets. He doubted she had more than a few hundred.

      But...that was a few hundred closer to his ten thousand. Maybe he was feeling a bit altruistic after all.

      “Lourdes has a bank account,” Enne said, with the kind of seriousness that made Levi think she wasn’t lying. He searched her face for a tell—everyone always had a tell, a break in their poker face. But he found none.

      “It has more volts than you could want,” she continued. “If you help me find her, I’ll pay you.”

      “How much?” he asked.

      “Five thousand volts,” she said unflinchingly.

      He stilled. Did she really have that kind of voltage? She did look like she came from money, as Lourdes always had, too.

      Maybe she had five thousand volts. Maybe she had more.

      “Sorry,” he said, faking disinterest. “I don’t have time for this. I’m not the sort of guy who helps damsels in distress.”

      “Ten thousand volts,” she declared.

       Gotcha.

      He narrowed his eyes, as if considering. He let a few moments pass, and as he waited, the boldness in her dark eyes never faded. A few minutes ago, she’d been in tears, but she wasn’t broken.

      But would she be, once she realized her mother was probably dead?

      Maybe Alfero is still alive, Levi thought. After all, she’d survived this long. That alone was impressive.

      But unlikely. And a good player knew better than to bet against those kind of odds.

      “I’m listening,” he said. “But I’m going to need some incentive up front. Who knows how long it could take to find her?”

      “I’ll give you one thousand volts,” she offered, “but not until the end of the day. You said yourself that you barely know Lourdes. I want to make sure you can help me at all.”

      If he pressed her for more, she’d probably relent. After all, she could play at being brave all she wanted, but Levi knew better. She’d left her belongings behind to follow Chez straight into the heart of the North Side—she was desperate.

      But he didn’t haggle. He didn’t want to scare her away and lose the possibility—even if it was slim—for ten thousand volts, for a chance to save himself. After all, he was desperate, too.

      If the day ended without a lead, then Levi would take his one thousand volts tonight and leave her in the dust. Even if ten thousand would cover his entire debt to Sedric, he still doubted that Lourdes Alfero was even alive. He couldn’t afford to waste time on a pointless search.

      “We’ll start with a friend of mine,” Levi said. “He can answer our questions.”

      Enne’s shoulders relaxed, and she let out the breath she’d been holding.

      “Is your friend an...Iron?” she asked.

      He smirked. “What? Don’t like my friends much?” Jac might look threatening, but he had all the aggression of a baby rabbit. Mansi was practically Levi’s younger sister. And Chez... Well, Chez and Levi weren’t on the best of terms as of late, but when Chez wanted to, he could be tolerable. Sometimes, when the stars aligned, even pleasant.

      “No, my friend’s not an Iron,” he said. But Levi got the feeling Enne would be missing Olde Town’s charm within the hour.

      “Good,” she huffed.

      He opened the door for her. “After you, missy.”

      “But what about the whiteboots?” she asked. “They could still be searching for me.”

      “You think I’d go someplace with whiteboots? Please, I know better than that. You should learn to trust me.” His smile was filthy with insincerity.

      “I’ll work with you because I have to, but I’m not going to trust you until I find Lourdes.”

      She lifted her head and marched outside.

      “One thousand volts,” Levi grumbled to himself. If he could tolerate her for a single day, then he would wake one thousand volts richer tomorrow.

      Besides, Enne Salta wouldn’t last more than a night in the City of Sin.

       LEVI

      Levi and Enne emerged from the edge of Olde Town, squinting into the light. Not the sunlight—the New Reynes sky was overcast, the smog leaving foul smudges against the clouds. No, they were squinting at the flashing lights of Tropps Street, the center of the Casino District, and—as far as anyone on the North Side was concerned—the center of the city. Everything shone on Tropps Street: the glint of costume jewelry, the golden teeth of the bouncers’ smiles, the waxy sheen of faux leather and, of course, the neon reflections in the puddles of rainwater, piss and emptied liquor cups along the sidewalks.

      There was nothing like the Casino District. From the moment Levi had arrived in New Reynes, he’d made it his home. Then he’d made it his territory. One day, he would make it his kingdom.

      To the right, a man played an accordion along the curb. He sang about the woes of unrequited love, but it wasn’t clear if he was referring to a sweetheart or the bottle of absinthe at his feet. Enne cringed each time the singer cursed.

      “You seem nervous,” Levi said.

      She hugged her arms to her chest and darted an anxious glance over her shoulder. “This street is so crowded, but it’s not even noon. Don’t these people work?”

      He snorted. “Crowded? You should see this street at night.”

      Half a block ahead, a man in a trench coat stared at them from beneath a dull and flickering yellow sign. Rusted chains dangled from it like metal streamers. The man’s face was sallow and sunken, and he reached a shaking hand forward like a prisoner trapped behind bars, begging

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