Rooks and Romanticide (7 page)

“I will be. I am.” The Earl issued an indifferent shrug and a cold scoff from the balcony above.

“I was just concerned about your well-being after….” Levi trailed off on purpose, shaking his head.

“Well,” the Earl said, and the nighttime wind carried his voice perfectly, “thank you for your worries, but really, do you have any idea who I am at all? Are you foreign or something? New to New London? I don't need anybody's
concern
for my well-being, especially not from a mere civilian.”

Levi moved closer to the wall beneath the balcony. The liquor had made his skin warm and itchy; he needed to stay sharp. The Earl scowled down at him with murderous intent, and Levi couldn't help but grin now, attempting humility but really inexorably pleased. By the Earl's lack of sympathy, or by his obvious relief at seeing Levi again. There was no denying the Earl had hoped to see him again. He would have called Security by now if it had been any other way. Looked like BLACK's plans were right on spot, after all.

“Pardon me,” Levi called again, knowing exactly what to say, “but I thought the intrigue in the air was mutual, in the garden when we….”

“Tch!” the Earl spat down at him, lip curling gently.

But Levi caught the flare of color in his face, the spark of something in his eyes. He was thinking of their assignation in the garden, just like Levi, yes. The kiss. The tongue, the teeth, the wandering hands.

The Earl was in his bedclothes already. The lingering face paint made him look ghostly. Levi wondered if he was cold. Again he thought about the taste of his mouth and he had to stop himself from touching his own lips in sweet memory. This was
the Earl Dietrich
—

“Well,” the Earl said again, curtly, “you were horribly mistaken. I was bored and you weren't annoying me—
at the time
. Now, if you'll escort yourself out, it'll save me the trouble of alerting my officers.”

“Oh, I wish you wouldn't lie.” Levi offered his best smile.
That
was a bold move, and if it worked like he thought it would….

The Earl studied him coldly. Clearly he was startled, disgruntled, but in a very guilty way. Finally, after a few long, torturous moments, he set his revolver down and gestured with one hand for Levi to close in on the balcony. The Earl leaned forward against the stone, hooked one ankle behind the other, and called down coolly, “What do you want?”

Success.
Levi's neck ached from looking up. He wished there had been some vines or lattice to climb to get even closer, out of any light.

“Remove your mask,” the Earl demanded suddenly, and Levi bristled as he realized the revolver was back and pointed his way once more. When had he…?

Levi thought about it a moment, gnawing his lower lip.

He was certain there would be no recognition past the black mask on the Earl's side of their acquaintance. His anonymity as Ruslaniv heir, thanks to his father's protectiveness, had never failed him before. However, this was the enemy. This was like laughing in the face of the devil.

Well, the alcohol made it an easy choice. With fleeting hesitation, Levi pulled his mask off and let it dangle idly from his fingertips as he met the Earl's gaze again, steadily.

“I've been dying to meet the head of the Dietrich family,” Levi declared, and there was a moment of silence in which his heart pounded below his throat and he wondered if the clouds slipping through the Earl's eyes were those of recognition. He needed a sign, a code word, some sort of impending meaning.

But the Earl just shifted, drew his gun back, and smiled thinly along the barrel before it went out of sight. “If it's death you want, I can arrange it,” he retorted, low, below his breath, a joke and a promise all in one. The relief washed through Levi, cold and refreshing, and he wondered if it was too soon to accept it.

“So you admit that the intrigue is mutual?” he tried a second time.

“I admit that you entertained me, and that's hard to do.” The Earl propped his chin in one palm, raising his brows. “So, congratulations. And now that I finally see your face, sir, what do you want?”

“To talk to you.” Levi shifted, passing his mask from hand to hand. He tried to soften his smile, to make it more pleasant. It seemed the Earl really had no idea who he was, he who stood below him, but the Earl was known to be a scrupulous businessman, so Levi couldn't be certain yet. He had to keep on his toes.

“And what makes you think I want to talk to
you
?” The Earl sniffed daintily, drumming an idle finger on his cheek. Scrupulous businessman or not, he was flirting. This was the notorious Earl Dietrich
flirting
.

“Even the most capable of men need a confidant,” Levi insisted. “Especially those as young and encumbered as you.”

“Oh, hell. You'll rot me like sugar on the teeth,” the Earl mumbled dryly, the words barely audible on their descent from the balcony. “Why the devil should I trust a complete stranger beseeching me from below my
window
? Which, by the way, you're the first to ever do as much. Congratulations are in order again, I'm afraid.”

Levi shifted, smile fading. With his mouth bitten into a thin line, he peered up at the Earl somberly. “Because even as a complete stranger,” he husked, and
—
he had no idea where the words came from, or if they might work for BLACK's scheme, but they felt right
—
“I think you might find me reliable. And…
talented
. I was sure someone of your standing could use that, someone to
rely
on, someone
skilled
. A man who you might find useful in conducting your business as a Dietrich, to whom you might go for opinion or information—”

“I have someone like that. He's called my secretary. But, stop, let me guess.” The Earl held up a hand, eyes hooded. “You're a gunslinger who no longer has a regular payment coming your way—I won't assume any circumstances—and you thought that maybe I was in need of someone with your
abilities
.”

Levi floundered for just a moment, gawking. He considered arguing, considered trying to sweet talk a little more, but then he just swallowed and smiled humbly, because the Earl had so flawlessly set up the
perfect
opening for him.

Levi called up, in true gunslinger spirit, “If that's what you want me to be, that's what I am.”

The Earl squinted down at him, and his expression was something that caught Levi momentarily rapt—soft, childlike eyes at half-mast and no longer sharp and deliberate but distant with thought. His hair danced along his temple like his collar danced along his slim shoulders, and in that moment, Levi wanted nothing more than to climb up the side of the house and join him on the balcony, to sit and talk about everything in the world and stare into an expression like that all night long. He couldn't say why. There was just something mesmeric about the Earl, something indomitable and powerful that drew him in, a primal kind of force that Levi had no right to deny. It was a pull as subtle and dangerous and undeniable as the moon's. The kind of thing a man didn't speak of in the daylight for fear of destroying its sanctity.

“What do you think of what happened tonight?” the Earl hissed, and Levi realized he was being tested. “What do you think it was all about, the attackers?”

“Why, it was obviously a show.” Levi didn't miss a beat. “Party-crashers, reckless Ruslaniv supporters, ruining your good time in the name of their crest. Pathetic, right?”

“Very pathetic. So pathetic, I didn't even apprehend them.” The Earl chewed over Levi's answer for what felt like eternities, glaring down at him. His unwavering stare was slightly unnerving, but Levi reveled in it. He basked in it, really.

The Earl sighed, shifting to his other foot. “You make me nervous,” he conceded after a long pause. The impatience had faded from his voice. “However, don't think that means I like you just yet,” he added hastily. “I confess, all right? That intrigue you mentioned… it was mutual, yes. And maybe it was intuition or something. I don't have an answer for you just yet, but I'll consider your proposition—”

“Will you meet me tomorrow night?”

Levi hadn't a clue where that question had come from. He shook his head, but he didn't say anything more.

The Earl reared back. “What?” he called down, brow knotting.

But Levi caught sight of the ghost of a smile that flickered across his face.

“Will you meet me tomorrow night, to discuss business matters further?” Levi said again. “We can meet at St. Vincent's Church, in Romanov Square—after night's fallen if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Right, meeting a stranger somewhere in the dark just makes me feel cozy and safe.” The Earl draped his arms over the side of the balcony and leaned down again. His eyes flashed with the passing of quick thoughts, but that soft smirk had finally come to life on his pale lips. “St. Vincent's in Romanov Square is fine. As long as it's not St. Mikael's.”

“Never,” Levi husked, feeling a tight pinch in his chest. “That's Ruslaniv territory.”

“When?”

“How does nine o'clock sound? In the safety of night?”

“I don't see why not.” The Earl shrugged. “Well, then. Now that that's settled. Is there anything more, or should I call Security to escort you out? Perhaps you could give me your name? Maybe an oath of loyalty? You don't find it a little odd that a gunslinger looking for a position
just so happened
to be on the scene when a shooting occurred, do you?”

Levi laughed, because what a smart little man this Earl was. But then he bit his lip, eyes flickering up to meet the Earl's. He lifted a hand, straightening up solemnly.

“A name, what is a name?” Levi sighed. There was no catch to this. He'd always gone by his middle name, anyway, and surely the Earl would never make the connection to his formal first name.

He said, “A rose would smell the same if called anything else, wouldn't it? Names are as dangerous as the guns we wave. With a man's name you hold so much power over him—but if you should need a name for me, you can call me Levi—and I swear by the moon above in the sky—”

“Oh God, who are you? Romeo?” The Earl's voice was thick with disgust, but his eyes danced.

Levi was slightly offended. He'd thought that had been a grand play of words.

“The moon is powerful,” he insisted, offering the Earl a frank frown. The Earl's expression didn't waver. He returned the stare, stubborn and smug in his austerity. Levi sighed. “What do you suggest I swear by, then?”

“Your life.” The Earl motioned down to him, that awful emotionless mask passing over his face again. Levi much preferred the paint-stained and tortured smile. “Because,
Levi
, if I find reason to suspect you of betrayal, I'll have you executed in front of everyone you love and hold dear. And then I might kill them too, if I feel the need. And you'll all be tossed in Lovers' Lane to be picked up by the undertaker and taken away to his shop to be used as guinea pigs for his medical experiments. Does that sound good to you?”

Levi gawked. His heart leapt up beneath his throat, hammering there excitedly. Because the more the Earl spoke, the harsher he was, the more that cold little flame in Levi throbbed up, filling him with an exhilaration he hadn't expected. He smirked, turning honest eyes up at the Earl, silhouetted as he was against the light spilling from his room. And in the back of his mind, he heard Eliott again, laying out the new scheme with that suspicious gleam in his eyes.

If you were getting as close to the Earl as Petyr says you were, here's an idea, Levi: get closer to him. We're talking really close—pretend to be arbitrary, get him to trust you. And through that, we'll have a connection straight inside! An express ticket straight to the top! You
will
do it—right, Levi? I know you can. You can't fool me with that apathetic act of yours. I know that proud Ruslaniv blood still runs through you. You can't deny it…. So, you're gonna do it. Right, Levi?

Levi's smile widened, and he straightened up, letting the Earl's critical, pale eyes flicker over him.

“I swear by my life,” he murmured. “I hereby do give you the power to do all you said you would, should you ever feel the need.”

The Earl turned his nose up, and Levi watched, wishing he wouldn't stifle the smile so obviously waiting at the corners of his mouth. His smiles were like the sun shining on a grave. The Earl took a step away from the balcony with a curt nod, retrieved his gun, and backed away toward the open doors. There was a clatter, a sound of voices from within the house, and finally the Earl conceded to the smile, offering it in the last of the light as a servant appeared next to him carrying a rather large and out-of-place smoking jacket.

“Weston,” the Earl murmured, motioning over the edge of the balcony with his free hand. “Please have Security escort Mr. Levi here off the grounds. He was with me earlier, in the courtyard, but he got a little lost in all the commotion.”

Levi chuckled beneath his breath as he watched the butler pull the balcony doors shut, heard his faint answer and the latch of the locks, and through the glass of the doors, the Earl Dietrich was still smiling as he turned away and slipped into the smoking jacket held out for him.

The well-trained part of Levi wanted to believe it wasn't that easy, but the part of him that had downed half a bottle of drink in ten minutes rejoiced in the victory. How easily the Earl had been fooled!

Five minutes later, Security shut the gates at the front of the manor behind him, and Levi threw his mask in the air with an accomplished laugh before hurrying off to find the rest of BLACK.