Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel Book 4) Read online

  A server in a small black cocktail dress approached, a tray of champagne glasses carefully balanced near her head. She smiled at us. “Drink?”

  I took two. “Thank you.”

  She nodded and disappeared into the crowd. I handed one glass to Carrow. “Don’t drink.”

  “No?”

  I shook my head. “We need to see them made to be sure they haven’t been spiked with something. But we want to carry one, so we blend.”

  Even now, I could see two crime bosses that I recognized—one from the Chicago Dens and another from New York. Either would like to have me incapacitated and willing to spill my secrets.

  “They aren’t just meant to make us gamble more?” she asked.

  “That’s their purpose, yes. But they could be spiked. Either with something to lower our inhibitions or something worse.”

  She grimaced.

  “Come.” I drew her toward the bar. “We need a drink in hand so that people will lower their guards around us.”

  I was aware of her every movement as we walked toward the bar. The crowd parted easily to let us pass, and I stopped at an open spot at the long expanse of gleaming wood. At the far end, Mac appeared briefly, speaking to someone who looked like the manager. She blended perfectly, her hair darker and her face slightly different, thanks to Eve’s potion. When she found her mark, she’d transform entirely to look like them.

  Carrow and I both made a point not to look at her.

  I leaned down and spoke at Carrow’s ear, unable to help getting closer. It was unwise, but such a small thing could surely be forgiven by fate.

  “What can I get you?” I asked.

  “Sparkling water with a lime. In a rocks glass.”

  “Clever.” It would look like a vodka soda or gin and tonic when served that way. I couldn’t get away with anything less than an amber colored Scotch—Anton knew my preferences too well—but one drink would hardly affect me.

  I withdrew a hundred-pound note from my pocket and made eye contact with the nearest server.

  The small, pale man hurried over, a polite smile in his eyes. “May I help you?”

  “I have a tab—Devil of Darkvale. My usual and a sparkling water with lime for the lady.” I passed him the hundred-pound note, a not-so-subtle bribe that would encourage him to follow the notations on the valued client drinks list.

  He took the note and nodded, hurrying off to the middle of the bar, where he retrieved a small black notebook.

  Carrow nodded at him. “What’s all that about?”

  “They keep track of the preferences of the wealthiest visitors. I don’t come here to gamble often, but I do come for meetings.”

  She raised her brows. “Crime lord meetings?”

  I nodded. She winced, reminding me just how different our lives and values were.

  Which was good. It would help us keep our distance when it was so vital that we do so.

  I watched the bartender with a keen eye as he cracked open a fresh bottle of my preferred Scotch. I didn’t want anything that could be tampered with, and I was satisfied to see the small poof of blue magic that indicated a fresh, un-enchanted bottle. He poured a glass, then fetched a fresh bottle of Perrier and decanted it into a glass for Carrow.

  When he’d returned with our drinks, we took them and turned to the room.

  The space bustled with movement as people flowed between the tables, stopping to sit or stand at a game of chance.

  “Any idea where Anton is?” Carrow asked.

  I searched the floor, not spotting him in any of his preferred places. “He’s either at a private table in the back or at the theater on the next floor.”

  A server strolled by, a tray of champagne raised high. I caught her gaze as she passed, and she stopped.

  “Pardon me.” I kept my voice low. “Where is Anton? I quite fancy a game.”

  She smiled widely. “Then it’s your night. He’s in the back. Good luck getting there.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  She hurried on, and Carrow leaned up to speak close to my ear. “What does she mean about getting there?”

  “It’s a meritocracy at the back table. You need to earn your way there by winning out here.”

  “What game?”

  “Poker.”

  Carrow grinned. “I’m good at poker.”

  “Are you now?”

  “Very. Even without my gift.”

  “Then I’ll stake you.”

  Her brows rose. “Really?”

  “Really. I play, but not expertly. I’ve never had much interest. It will help our chances if both of us play.”

  “What if we lose?”

  “Then we get clever and sneak in.”

  “I thought you said that was deadly.”

  “Exactly. So we should win.”

  She grimaced. “Well, we have a good plan, and I’m good at poker. Better when I can use my magic, but still good.”

  “That’s where this comes in.” I removed one of two small charms from my pocket and palmed it, then held her hand as if we were on a date. A streak of heat ran up my arm, and I couldn’t imagine never touching her again.

  Her hand tightened, closing around the sphere.

  “Keep it out of sight,” I murmured near her ear. “When you need to use your power, hold it to the underside of the table. It will adhere and break the spell that prevents you from using your magic.”

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Come on, I’ll get us chips and a seat at a table.”

  She tucked her hand into my arm, and we walked across the casino. It was impossible not to feel the eyes of envious men—she was the most gorgeous woman in the room.

  For tonight—and tonight only—she was mine. It might be just an illusion now that our bond was broken, but I didn’t care.

  6

  Carrow

  As Grey led me across the casino floor, the crowds parted to let us pass. I briefly allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if we were a couple.

  A frisson of anxiety shot up my spine.

  It was such a strange thought. Our bond was broken, and though I still felt something for him, without the bond to tie us together, it felt crazy. I’d known him such a short time, and he was such a bad idea.

  He was a literal magical crime boss, the most feared man in Guild City and, also, the most dangerous. Everything about him should drive me away. A lot of things about him scared me, and without the bond to dull those feelings and draw me to him, I was able to actually feel that fright.

  And yet, I still wanted him.

  How could I not, when he acted and looked the way he did? Not only did he look like a fallen angel recently thawed from an icy sleep, he was always putting himself between me and danger.

  I shook the thoughts away and focused on scouting out the casino. The exits were well-marked but also well-guarded. If there was a fire, we could all get out. Short of that, it looked like the bouncers would stop anyone from leaving without permission. They stood with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces, big bodies blocking the doors.

  It didn’t take long for Grey to arrange for chips and a spot at one of the top tables. The amount he’d requested made my head spin.

  He handed me the chips and murmured, “My status might not get us an invite into Anton’s meritocracy room, but we’ve got a seat at the next best thing. If we win enough at this table and, therefore, prove our skill, we’ll be invited to Anton’s private game next.”

  I took the stack of chips. “I’ve got this.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I believe it.”

  Grey and I joined the four other players at the table, and I carefully sized up my opponents. The skills I’d learned in interrogation training came in handy when playing poker. The many hours I’d spent playing with my colleagues were even more useful.

  Everyone at the table—two women and two men—looked cool and collected. They were all dressed in exorbitantly expensive clothing, sipping ch
ampagne and whiskey while studying their cards. Though they had their signatures fairly well suppressed, I smelled magic on all of them. They could have been any species though—I still didn’t have the skill to determine which.

  The dealer was a stone-faced woman with smooth hands and a calming demeanor. She also wore her magic like a badge, and she was one tough cookie. I didn’t know what she could do, but her power felt like a punch to the gut.

  She leveled Grey and me with a serious gaze. “Five Card Stud. Twenty thousand dollar buy in.”

  The number nearly took my breath away, just as I’d gone a bit faint when Grey had requested half a million dollars in chips. It was an unimaginable amount of money.

  But I kept my expression composed and pushed my chips toward the center of the table.

  Grey did the same, and I was painfully aware of his every movement. It was almost like breaking our bond made me more aware of him, as if that were possible. It was the sense of the unknown, maybe, even though I knew I was supposed to avoid him.

  The game moved quickly from there, and I got lucky with the first few hands. Grey did too, or maybe he was just more skilled that he’d let on.

  Either way, we advanced forward, hanging onto our spots at the table while one man and one woman dropped out. I drained my drink, and Grey ordered me another with a flick of his hand. It was a handy trick, since then he didn’t have to let the rest of the table know I was only drinking water.

  After two hours, during which I hadn’t even needed to use the charm Grey had given me, we were the only ones left at the table. I was starting to get antsy, and the few glimpses I caught of Mac in her disguise just made me more nervous. If she were caught . . .

  But hell, that went for all of us, and she was a big girl. She knew the risks. Didn’t keep me from worrying about her, though.

  “Sir? Madam?” A quiet, polite voice sounded from behind me, and I turned.

  A slender gentleman with a pencil-thin mustache and an impeccable tux stood a few feet away, watching us expectantly.

  “Yes?” Grey asked.

  “His Excellency would like it if you joined him for a game, should you be willing.”

  His Excellency?

  Okay, that was just too much.

  Grey, ever the iceman, simply nodded. “I would enjoy that.” He looked at me, a brow raised. “And you?”

  I gave a brilliant smile. “Of course. Just let me powder my nose, and I’ll be right there.”

  The man bowed, then gestured to the door that led to Anton. He disappeared, and Grey and I rose.

  “I’ll meet you over there.” He nodded toward the door.

  “All right.” I hurried toward the bathroom, keeping a lookout for Mac.

  She appeared right as I was walking down the hall toward the restroom. We didn’t so much as pause, but I gave her a nod, indicating that it was time to swap places with the bartender who served Anton. She hurried off, and I made quick work of checking myself in the mirror. Everything was in place, and the gold dress still looked fantastic.

  A few minutes later, I joined Grey. He looked amazing, standing alone near the door, his cold eyes surveying the casino. His tux fit his tall, broad build perfectly, and as he leaned against the wall, he looked like a predator lounging on the Savannah, waiting for some unwary prey to walk by.

  When his eyes met mine, they warmed briefly. Then his face hardened, as if he’d noticed the softness. It was a bad idea in general, given our situation, but even worse while we were on Anton’s turf. We’d agreed that my cover would be as Grey’s new fling. If Anton sensed that he truly cared for me, he’d use me to hurt Grey. The last thing I wanted was to be a pawn in a battle between two mob bosses.

  Grey held out his arm, and I took it. Together, we strode into the large room. It was beautifully decorated, though far too extravagantly, with a single table in the middle. Four players sat around it, Anton immediately recognizable.

  It was just something about him—his aura, maybe, or the cold deliberation in his eyes. He made ugly, terrible decisions every day, and it was reflected on his face. So was the fact that those decisions didn’t bother him a whit. Silver hair was swept back from patrician features, and his blue eyes were so pale they were almost colorless. His tux was as beautifully cut as Grey’s, but his slender build didn’t fill it out nearly as well.

  Next to him sat an older woman with a tiny poodle in her lap. The poodle’s poof of white hair matched her own, and the dress that she wore glittered pink under the crystal chandeliers. The last two figures at the table were vastly different—one man had black eyes and pale gray skin. He was utterly terrifying, actually, with a cold gleam in his gaze that was definitely snakelike.

  The last man turned to look at us, a charming smile pulling up the corner of one side of his mouth. He was handsome, with a strong jaw and brilliant green eyes that complemented his dark hair. His tux fit him perfectly and, like Grey, he had the muscles to fill it out. In fact, he looked like he should be out climbing mountains or crossing deserts in search of adventure.

  “Welcome.” Anton’s voice was low and rich. “We could use some new blood in the game.”

  Grey and I strode to the table. He took the seat next to the scary man, and I sat between the poodle woman and the adventurer. She gave me a derisive look that was matched by her poodle—the little beast’s lip even lifted in a growl. I turned my gaze away from the tiny monster and glanced at the man next to me.

  He smiled charmingly. “It seems I got the lucky end of the seating arrangements. I’m Atticus Swift.”

  “Nice to meet you. Marie Stone.” I gave him the fake name I’d worked up, not wanting Anton to remember me and seek me out.

  Atticus held out his hand to shake, and though I’d normally avoid such a thing, I needed all the information I could get about my opponents. Knowledge was power, after all.

  I gripped his strong hand and shook, suppressing a gasp at the images that flowed into my mind. Atticus, standing on the deck of a ship floating through the clouds, fighting off demons with a skill I couldn’t help but admire. Another vision flashed—this time of him in an enormous, gorgeous office with a view of high rises in the distance. He had power and wealth, that was for certain. And a love of adventure.

  Not only that—there was a distinct streak of honor to him. He was some kind of thief; I was sure of it. But an honorable one. Unlike everyone else at this table—I didn’t need to touch them to know they were shady as hell—he was a decent man. Albeit with a love of breaking the rules.

  I tried to get an image of what his cards looked like—he had a hand in front of him—but the magic that surrounded the table made it impossible. It was an impressive spell, whatever it was, allowing my gift to work but not in a way that would allow me to cheat.

  Damn.

  At least I had the charm from Grey tucked into the top of my stockings, though it wouldn’t be easy to deploy it with this crowd surrounding me.

  The dealer, who I’d barely noticed until now, cleared his throat. The man was so bland looking—pale skin, pale hair, a soft face, and stooped shoulders—that he nearly blended with the background.

  “Buy in is fifty thousand. One hundred to raise.”

  I tried not to let my jaw drop, but Atticus noticed my shock and leaned close. “Bit steep, I agree.”

  “Isn’t that why you play here?”

  He gave me a devastatingly handsome smile. Under any other circumstances, I might have flirted. I should have flirted. I should have done anything I could to tear my traitorous heart away from Grey. If it knew what was good for it, my heart would throw itself at Atticus.

  As it was, I felt nothing when I looked at Atticus. He might as well have been another species, albeit an objectively attractive one.

  Unable to help myself, I glanced at Grey.

  His eyes were slightly narrowed as he watched Atticus, and I could all but see the threat wafting around him.

  Atticus leaned close to my ear and murmured, “I
think your friend would like to knock my head against a wall.”

  Grey’s eyes flashed, and he smiled coldly.

  Oh, he could definitely hear Atticus, and he agreed.

  I just smiled—hopefully in a mysterious way—and looked at the dealer expectantly. What I really wanted to do was jump on Anton and hold my knife to his throat, demanding answers.

  But there were eight guards in the room, one at each corner and others at the door.

  So, that approach was out.

  The game began, moving swiftly at first. Anton was nearly silent, his gaze darting between the different players with the coldness of a snake’s. When it landed on me, I had to suppress a shiver.

  Surprisingly, the first person to leave the table was the terrifying man with the gray skin and black eyes. He hadn’t said a single word the entire game—every signal he’d given to the dealer had either been a hiss or a tap on the table.

  Finally, he lost spectacularly, and that was that.

  Anton grinned with satisfaction when the man rose and slunk away toward the door, clearly pleased to have beaten him. So far, the mob boss was the best player at the table, though the rest were holding their own.

  The woman in pink watched the cards avidly, her interest keen and her excitement high. Atticus, on the other hand, seemed bored. Almost as if he weren’t here for poker at all and was just phoning it in with his bets. I shot him a glance out of the corner of my eye, and he grinned, almost as if he could read my curiosity.

  Across the table, Grey looked between me and Atticus, his shoulders tense. Was he jealous?

  We’re not supposed to care about each other! I wanted to shout at him.

  I merely looked away, catching the eye of the woman’s little poodle. The creature glared at me, its eyes on my cards. I scowled back and tilted them in so the little cheat couldn’t see them. Despite the fact that I could feel the magic-suppressing charm that surrounded the table, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could telepathically convey to his owner what my hand looked like.

  One hand in particular was so close, the betting so intense, that I nearly lost my spot at the table. Everyone else except for Atticus had folded, and the charming bastard was about to drive me away.