Page 18 of Guarded By the Krampus

Or just herlover.

“I would like to gamble some,” I announced. There was no point in pretending I was suave since I was not—and the sooner we got this portion of our mission over with the better.

Charles led us through a casino that dripped with opulence, up to a set of discreet black-and-gold double doors flanked by tall, uniformed attendants who greeted us with silent nods. Inside, the lighting was low but luxurious, emanating from a crystal chandelier with countless faceted drops overhead. One whole wall was a dark wooden bar that looked like a shrine to alcoholism, with multi-colored liquors in bottles I both did and did not recognize behind it, and while none of the surrounding players looked like an actual princess to me, I would believe that many of them could be royalty-adjacent.

“Feeling lucky?” I asked Satin. Her eyebrows rose in surprise—and I leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “It’s called acting.”

“Oh, is it?” she said afterwards, leaning back. I got the feeling that if she still had eyes, they would be rolling at me.

“Which game do you want?” I asked her.

“Roulette,” she said, and then looked over to where Charles had last been. “My usual, please?”

“Of course, Miss Satin,” he said, quickly departing from view.

I assumed he was going to get her a drink—not come back with a small, gilded sack full of chips. She took them, and then handed them to me, as I navigated her toward the chairs on the roulette wheels table’s far side. “You know red’s my favorite color, right?”

“What a shame,” I said, with feigned disappointment. “Black matches my fur.”

I set the chips out in front of me—where Satin would follow her hand down my arm and touch them, knowing what denominations they were from their grooves.

“Corner bets, four of each of these, please,” she said, pushing a tall stack of chips forward.

I did as I was told, allocating four chips to each of the corners on the board, while other players took their turns, and then the dealer waved their hand and spun the dial.

It was hard not to sympathize with the ball inside the wheel.

It, too, was feeling bounced around, it didn’t know where it was going, and some people would be disappointed in it no matter where it landed.

The ball clattered to a stop, and the dealer called out, “Thirty-two! Red! Even!”

Satin tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I suppose I can’t win them all,” she said. The dealer started raking chips in, as another player, a sharply dressed man with an air of quiet confidence, joined the table.

He slid a single black chip onto the board once it was clear, tapping it lightly before saying, “Seventeen. Straight up.”

The number seemed to spark something in Satin. She straightened, her fingers resting briefly on my arm before she gave the man a polite nod. “Interesting choice,” she murmured.

I leaned in close to her ear. “Something I should know?”

“Not yet,” she said, her voice low. “But I think it’s time for a different game. Shall we?” She stood smoothly, her handreaching to hold mine with an intimacy that killed me. “Let’s see how good your poker face is.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I feel like I should tell you all my cards,” I said, as the dealer dealt me in. I was sitting down, but Satin was standing, leaning against me like a cat.

Satin chuckled. “I have faith in you.”

It took every fiber of strength I had in my body not to tell her,You shouldn’t.A Call of Duty tournament would one thing. But poker wasnotmy scene.

And, sure enough, I lost the first three hands.

Satin laughed, and leaned forward to whisper in my ear in Russian—which the device still inside my ear translated for me. “You’re trying too hard—you’re here to play for the game, not the money. Act like these chips don’t matter to you.”

“How much are they worth?” I murmured back.

“You don’t want to know,” she said, her red lips curving up into a wicked smile. “But—here—my secret weapon,” she said, finally fishing the chip out of her cleavage that she’d shown me on the plane.

It was a perfect match for every chip that was on the table. I took it, added it to my betting pile—and promptly lost again.

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