Page 23 of To No End

But I had Lorcs burning through my pocket and nothing to lose; I gestured for him to join me in the booth.

Because I was feeling loose and gutsy, I yelled to the barkeeper like I owned the place, “Bring my friend a drink! The good kind.” My words slurred a little, but the rosy-cheeked male sat down across from me, looking more than eager to take all of my money.

For what seemed like hours, we played hand after hand. Every time I lost, I’d fish out another Lorc from my pocket and giggle while sipping at my ale. I’d lost count of the drinks and the rounds of cards, but I was having the best time and I was too stubborn to quit. I was going to beat him eventually, I had to. It was only a matter of odds.

Occasionally, other people would stop by to watch us or join in on a hand. I wasn’t quite sure if people actually enjoyed my company or enjoyed the fact that I kept paying for the beverages and made for a lousy gambler. From a more sober point of view, I’m sure it looked like I was being taken advantage of, but I knew what I was getting into and I enjoyed every minute of being a sloppy mess with my new “friends.”

Despite my appearance, I was trying to focus. With each hand that he played, I learned more about his strategy, and this time I felt like I had him in my trap. I was confident I finally had a strong hand to play, so I decided to up the ante and go all in with a large handful of coins. He eyed me suspiciously, but had also underestimated me since hours of losing had his confidence sky-high.

He matched my bet and we proceeded. When he laid out his hand fully prepared to mark another victory, I slurred, “Not so fast!”

I laid out my own, trying to hide just how proud I felt.

“Victory is mine…for once!”

I looked up at him, smiling, expecting to meet composed disappointment; instead, all I saw was rage and disbelief pooling in every angle of his face.

Before I could react, he yelled, “Cheat! You lousy cheater!”

I leaned back to put space between us and replied brashly, “Me? A cheat? Are you kidding me? I’ve lost every round. You lost fair and square.”

I cupped my hand on the heaping pile of coins between us, preparing to slide them to my side of the table when, all of the sudden, the enraged player across from me reached out abruptly and grabbed my wrist, holding me firmly in a painful grip.

“You’re a cheat and a filthy little wh…”

Before he could finish his verbal attack on me, there was a shiny silver blade held firmly against his throat.

My eyes scanned up the gloved hand holding the dagger, which was attached to the arm of a very tall, hooded male in all black—who had made this act of aggression so discreetly that no one else around us noticed anything was awry.

The stranger in black bent down to the card player’s ear and quietly said, “Tsk, tsk, very poor form. The lady beat you fair and square. You’d dare deprive her of the spoils of her victory? And that tongue of yours…well, had I let you call her what I think you were going to, you might just find yourself without one.”

I was equal parts terrified and exhilarated. But I couldn’t decide if I was more frightened of the guy still clutching my wrist or the one with the blade to his neck.

He sloppily writhed against the weapon. “She cheated, I know it.”

“Release her. Right. Now.” Each word was like a sharp staccato from his lips.

He pulled the knife even tighter against his skin, and below it I could see a tiny dribble of blood appear. He did not back down or loosen his grip. With one swipe of his hand, he could easily take this male’s life. The drunk finally released his grip on me and I pulled my sore hand to my chest, rubbing it for relief.

“When I remove this blade and let you keep your tongue, you’re going to get up, quietly leave this establishment, and never return.” He paused, as if expecting him to fight the instructions.

From the look in the male’s eyes, it felt like he hoped he did fight him just so he could enjoy the feeling of pressing the sharp edge even deeper into the offender’s throat. And just like that, I witnessed the anger slowly fade from the gambler’s face, his shoulders relax, and the dagger lift away from his neck, allowing him to stand.

He did exactly as he was told. Not a single word or gesture to draw any attention to us or what had just happened. I watched nervously until he exited the tavern. The next thing I knew, I was sitting face to face with the rogue who just forcibly removed the drunken gambler.

I fumbled over my words trying to make sense of what just happened and shake a modicum of sobriety into myself.

“How did you know I didn’t cheat?” As if that mattered—I had been attacked!

“I’ve been watching you lose hand after hand to him all night. You didn’t suddenly get good at cards. You got lucky,” he replied, unimpressed.

He was absolutely right, of course. I didn’t cheat, I had just bided my time and waited for my strategy to kick in— Wait, did he just say he had been watching me all night? How did I not notice someone spying on me this whole time? Especially him?

I say this because the male now sitting across from me in this booth was hardly someone you could ignore. He was scary and sexy all wrapped in one, and I had to check myself to make sure I wasn’t drooling. I took another sip of my drink while further assessing him, just to give my hands something to do. Was he really this attractive, or was the alcohol clouding my judgment?

He slid his hood back revealing his inky black hair, messy and tousled. It contrasted greatly with his pale skin and hazel eyes. The look he was giving me bordered between disapproval and disgust. It’s not like I had asked for his help, though I was grateful.

That look made me feel years younger than I was, like I was some sort of child to be scolded. While I was seemingly a complete and utter annoyance to him, I, on the other hand, found him stunning me into silence with his brutally attractive masculinity. An alluring viciousness radiated from him.

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