Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

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.”