18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I t's quieter over here as the sounds of the hall diminish, leaving just the peaceful tune of the nearby harp and the gentle clinking of glassware.

We approach the table, and August rolls his eyes, tossing his hand of cards before him. "This girl? This is your new partner? I see what you're doing, Lucanis."

Luc pulls my chair out for me, and I sit. "What's wrong with this one? She looks like a fine girl."

"If you think you can distract me with a pair of tits, you're mistaken," August growls, avoiding any sort of eye contact with me.

Asshole.

"I thought I would distract you with a nice pair of legs, actually." He removes his gloves and sits across from me. My muscles tense. This is not what I was expecting.

"Can we get on with it?" Raynor snaps. "I didn't travel halfway across the countryside to listen to you two squabble over some girl." He tosses two gold coins onto the table—actual gold. I wonder if we play long enough if they would notice one going missing. I doubt if I'll get to find out because I don't have anything substantial to wager.

"I didn't bring much coin with me tonight." My ears heat, and Raynor's face softens.

"No one is expecting the kitchen girl to have coin." Luc's words could be construed as an insult to some. However, he states it so factually, as if he were discussing the weather, that I don't believe he's being judgmental. "I'll cover your wager. . .for a cost. You help me beat these two, and we are even. Best two out of three. If we lose, you owe me that second favor."

Since playing cards with some wealthy fae men seems to be payment for my first favor, I can't imagine the second would be too terrible. "Deal."

Luc reaches into his pocket and places four gold coins on the table as our wager. "More women!" he shouts at the bartender, who calls for more ladies to stand provocatively nearby. One strides over languidly before sitting upon Luc's lap.

Raynor chooses our first suit. It's been a while since I've played with the sailors at Ravton, but the rules and strategies come back quickly.

"August, I hear you brought your necromancer to my wedding. How quaint." Luc flashes a mischievous grin to August. "Are we even allowed to still have those? I thought the council of courts decided to ban them. I know you're the elected leader and all but this feels like a gross overreach of power."

"She doesn't use that gift, and you know it." August tosses a card. "And it's not like she volunteered to be one."

We play through six segments before we lose the first round. "You need to loosen up," Luc says while shuffling the deck. "Is there a drink where you're from that will do the trick?" He places cards before me, gently brushing his knuckle against the back of my hand.

"Bakrevnia summer ale," I say with surprising ease. "The men at The Snakebeard always swore it made the ladies drop their panties faster." My cheeks heat. I'm not sure when I've lost my filter. I've hardly had much to drink.

Luc chuckles at me. "You're something else. Bakrevnia . . ." He taps his cards against the table. "If my memory serves me, that's in the human realm. Correct?" He selects our suit, and August lays his first card, glaring at him.

"Yes, just across the border." I look at my cards and place a mid-level card in our trump suit, trying to force out high-value cards.

"Interesting." Luc studies me and then places his last card on the table, sweeping the win. A sly smile spreads across his lips, and the woman on his lap giggles and claps her hands. "Last round, let's make this interesting."

Luc slides his gloves back on and pulls a small black and gold rock from his pocket. It glimmers and reflects light as he places it in the center of the table. It doesn't look like anything special to me, but the expressions on August and Raynor's faces tell me otherwise.

"If my partner and I lose this next round, you can have this fallonite," Luc says. "My sources say the mines are all but dried up." He nudges the girl on his lap, forcing her to stand and retreat with the other women. "But if we win . . ." He leans in, resting his elbows on the table. "I want you to have my back at the next symposium. You'll vote with me to open the borders."

August bristles, hands balling into fists. He exchanges a look with Raynor, who nods slightly. "Alright," he says, "but we'll switch partners this round."

Luc coughs a laugh. "Have her," he says and mutters something to August in a lyrical language I don't understand.

Raynor and I switch seats, and I face August, who studies me with cold calculation. He doesn't look away as the bartender sets down four glasses of mulled wine.

"She doesn't need any." August gestures for him to take my glass, and I nab it before he can.

"Speak for yourself." A flicker of rage burns within me. I don't know who the hell this murderous asshole thinks he is, but he can't tell me what to do. The air charges slightly as I drink from the glass. It's sweet and nutty, absolutely delicious.

The room tilts, and I grab the table. August chuckles, revealing one of his fangs. "Just trying to save you from that. Mulled faery wine seems to have quite the effect on your kind." He pushes the cards toward me to shuffle and deal. "But clearly, you know best."

We play through four segments. . . I think, and somehow, we are up. The three males before me concentrate intently on the game while I study their beautiful faces and god-like bodies.

Is it getting hot in here? I fan my face with my hand. Gods, I'm sitting with two High Lords right now. I take in Raynor's profile, his manicured beard and his elegantly twisted locs.

August peers down at his hand of cards, his long dark lashes hooding his eyes. He licks the slight divot in his bottom lip as he places his card, and I wonder what kissing him might be like, what kissing someone with fangs is like. The corner of his mouth ticks up, and he looks at me through his brows. "Your turn."

I toss my last card on the table, and Luc stands abruptly, knocking his chair back behind him. August grabs the rock from the table and pockets it. There's no need for anyone else to lay their cards; I've just won the game.

"You weren't paying much attention to her the first two games," August says, standing and buttoning the top button of his jacket. "But I was. She likes to hang onto her high cards until the end. I was betting on her having the trump card." He turns and walks to the bar with Raynor.

Luc closes his eyes and lets out a long, slow breath.

"No bother," he says cheerfully, regaining his composure. "I'm going to find the rest of my party." Two of the barely dressed ladies stride over, one weaving her arm around Luc's back, the other stroking his chest. "Or perhaps I'll linger a little longer. Enjoy your evening. I hope to see you again; I have a proposition for you."

Through the beaded curtain, Hruta laughs loudly with several of our coworkers. I stride to the bar to finally get the drink she asked for.

"Two house reds," I say to the bartender. August slides closer to me.

"How's your neck?" He glances at my neck before landing on my red lips. He moves in closer to me as the bartender places the two wine glasses before me.

"How's your shoulder?" I respond pointedly. He slowly pulls his black tunic and jacket over, revealing a small silver scar on his shoulder.

"Had to sew it myself." He glances at my neck again. "You really should be more careful when entering a male's room unannounced." He raises an eyebrow at me.

"And you should be careful when approaching a lone maiden in the woods."

His eyes scan down my body and linger on my exposed midriff. "Ah, but you're no maiden." He chuckles and holds a hand up for the bartender to return.

I'm not going to stick around this blood-thirsty asshole.

"Best of luck to you tomorrow," he says, raising his glass to my retreating form.

Best of luck to me. Is he going to come after me again? I take our glasses to the card table and join Hruta, placing her wine in front of her. Hruta is utterly destroying our colleagues in cards and has a formidable stack of chips in front of her. Lavinia stands and sways and Ann steadies her, helping her toward the privy.

"You've been busy," I say.

After a couple more rounds, it's clear that Hruta has a gift with numbers, and some of our friends have moved to other tables. A server brings over a glass and sets it in front of me. "From the High Lord of Selene," he says, gesturing. I look through the beaded curtain. Two new young women lead Luc up the stairs while a third sits on August's lap, kissing his neck. He raises his glass to me. I sip mine—Bakrevnia summer ale. That bastard.

We maintain eye contact as the woman slides her hand below his belt. Something deep in my belly coils, and I can't look away. I drink the ale, all the while watching.

He slides his hand up her skirts and she grinds on him. I bite my lip and shift in my seat. A smirk crosses his face before he pulls her hair back, licking up her neck and along her jaw. There's a throbbing between my legs, and I finish my ale. It's suddenly very warm in here. This male is pushing me to the edge of doing something very irresponsible. Tomorrow is too important for me to be messing around.

"It's my bedtime," I say, standing abruptly. Hruta gives me a weird look but bids me farewell. I glance over my shoulder one last time. August and the woman head upstairs.

I catch a carriage to the visitor's village and walk straight past our cottage. My breath fogs the window as I peer into Lavania and Ann's kitchen, making sure no one is home.

I lift my skirts, find my garter, and pull my lock-picking pins. The faintest click disturbs the night air as the last lock pin falls into place.

The door creeks as I open it to the pitch-black room. Fortunately, the layout seems identical to our cottage as I creep through the kitchen.

Lavinia was very drunk; she should be good and thirsty in the morning. My eyes adjust to the darkness as I find the large pitcher of water below the sink. I pull a small vial from my garter and uncork the water storage, dumping the contents inside. The zimmereth tincture I made will ease all of Lavinia's anxieties and put her to sleep faster than a baby with a full belly. There's little chance she will wake in time to handle her shift.

I lock the door behind me and head toward the castle.

It's a long walk, and exhaustion pulls at the edges of my mind, making me feel slow and foggy. One more step, then I can go to bed.

I catch a whiff of that wild, earthy smoke near the gardens. "Eoin?" I call out.

"What are you doing back so early?" Eoin responds from a small bench nestled between giant hydrangea bushes.

"Early? It's so late. Why are you out here? I thought you had plans." The fog is dense, and the castle appears as a soft glow before us.

"I did. She left. I came out for a smoke and to think." Eoin takes a long drag on his pipe. I'm a little jealous of his evening, and I still feel the ache between my thighs from the borderline taboo experience I just had.

A chill catches me, and a shiver runs up my spine. Eoin spreads his knees wider and pats his thigh, offering me a place to sit. I do, and he loops his arm around my middle, holding me close.

"We didn't . . ." He runs his thumb against the exposed sliver of flesh on my lower back. "I didn't sleep with her."

I lean into him, soaking up his warmth and taking in his familiar scent. A small weight I didn't know was in my stomach lifts. It's not fair; he doesn't owe me anything, but I'm glad they didn't take it that far.

"I beat a high lord at cards tonight."

He turns to me with a twinkle in his eye. "You're kidding? You met one of them?"

"I met two. And a High Lord's son might fancy me. . . maybe. He said he has a proposition for me."

"Of course he does." His eyes search my face and study my mouth. "You're incredible." The exposed skin on my back grows more and more sensitive with each light stroke of his thumb. Why was I so jealous of him spending time with another woman? He's my friend and frequently enjoys the company of women. Why is this one different?

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if I let him enjoy me. . . just as friends. I want to see what those hands can do.

I lean closer, sliding my fingers up his back and through his soft hair.

"Who could resist this face?" he asks, barely above a whisper. His hand leaves my side, sliding up my neck to my cheek and jaw. His mouth hovers inches from mine, his warm breath caressing my lips.

I lean in slightly, barely brushing my lips against his, and he inhales sharply.

I kiss him, letting his warm, soft lips pull me to the blurry line at the edge of our friendship once again.

"You're so damn irresistible," he says between kisses. I stand and turn to face him, straddling my legs around him. He pulls me back to his lap and runs both of his hands up into my hair, pushing me deeper into the kiss. He nips my bottom lip, and I let out a shaky breath.

The air charges as Eoin runs his hands up my thighs, frantically pulling my black tulle skirt up around my hips, exposing my legs to the brisk night air. His lips open, and his tongue enters my mouth as he rubs two fingers over my underwear.

Eoin smiles on my mouth. "You're already wet." My mind jumps back to the gambling tavern—the way August never broke eye contact with me while that girl slid her hand down his pants.

Eoin kisses me faster, harder—with more intensity. He slides both of his hands under my skirt and grasps my butt, pulling me harder against him.

I tip my head back while he kisses down my neck, and my mind hasn't left the House of Cards. I shift my hips back and start to unbutton Eoin's pants, thinking about August's smirk and him taking that woman upstairs. I wonder if he's good in bed or a selfish lover.

Eoin grasps my wrists just before I free him.

"Wait." He waivers. "We don't know what will happen."

I can't believe I haven't seen it before now. "Eoin. . .are you afraid of me?" Why does this feel like a betrayal? He hasn't done anything wrong, but this hurts.

"Hello, legs!" Luc, Sven, Raynor, and August break through the fog as they walk towards the castle. "Looks like everyone gets a happy ending tonight," Luc says.

He and the other high lords share a laugh, all but August, who glares icily at me. A lead rock falls in my stomach, and I pull my skirt down over my legs. I can't believe I was so turned on by him earlier. He literally tried to kill me a couple days ago. What is wrong with me?

Eoin and I sit in silence as we watch the lords retreat into the glowing fog of the castle. "I'm going for a walk." I slide off Eoin's lap and stand. Eoin grasps my wrist, turning me back towards him.

"I'm sorry," he says, and I know he means it. "I care about you deeply."

"I've got one more thing I need to do. I'll see you in the morning." I pull my hand from his grasp and walk towards the castle through the garden.