Page 44 of Dimistrios's Bought Mistress
‘Well?’ His voice was expressionless.
For a moment there was silence. He could see the young man’s face work. Then his chin went up defiantly.
‘I don’t quit,m’sieu,’ he said. His voice was gritted.
‘As you wish,’ said Lycos. His glance dropped to the meagre pile of chips still at the young man’s side. ‘Are you good for credit?’
Something flashed in the young man’s eyes, as though he’d been insulted.
‘D’accord,’ he said.
Lycos gave another curt nod. ‘Very well.’
He reached for a new pack of cards.
Arielle lurched to her feet, abandoning her drink. Rapidly she went up to Lycos.
He had started to deal. Her hand went to his shoulder.
‘Lycos, no—’
Her voice was low. Insistent.
He stilled. He did not turn, or look at her.
‘Laisse moi—’
It was not said loudly, and it might have been a robot speaking, but still she recoiled as if he had struck her. Then she leant forward, voice urgent.
‘Lycos, for God’s sake. Don’t play him again! Can’t you see—’
His head snapped round. His eyes were like a basilisk’s. He gave her a murderous look.
For one endless moment she held that basilisk stare. Then she dragged her gaze across the table. To the young man. He was scarcely more than a boy.
‘Don’t play,’ she said directly to him. ‘Accept your losses and go home.’
She got no answer. Instead, someone took her arm and drew her away. It was the player who had just lost to Lycos and had accepted his losses with a pungent oath.
‘Leave them,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing you can do. The boy has to learn.’ His voice came sardonic. ‘And believe me, the Wolf will teach him.’
Arielle’s eyes flared. ‘But he’s terrified! Can’t you see it? He’s way out of his depth, and—’
‘And it is not your business, or the Wolf’s.’ He gave a shrug. ‘His father’s avicomte. He can stand the loss.’
‘Then why is he so terrified?’
The man shrugged again. ‘Loss of face,’ he said. ‘But he was a fool to join the table. Anyone could have told him that. Take my advice. Let this play out to the end. You can’t stop it anyway. Not if Lycos is willing to accept vowels—the kid’s IOU. Who knows…’ he gave a rough laugh, ‘…the Wolf might end the night the owner of an aristocrat’schâteau!’
He walked away, leaving the room on a heavy tread. The room was all but deserted now. No other tables were in play.
Silently, Arielle went back to her place by the wall, behind Lycos. She felt sick. Sick and angry. Angry like the way she’d felt at the racecourse when that vile man had said he was killing his horse because it hadn’t made him any money.
Sick like the way she’d felt when Lycos had turned up at themasand told her that he’d won it in a game of cards.
And now—
With heart thudding, she watched the game unfold until its inevitable conclusion.
