Page 1 of The Gambler

CHAPTER 1

TESS

Being blackmailed by a loan shark sucked.

As Tess cracked the engine of her vintage car, she thought about how it had been three glorious months since she’d last heard from her deadbeat father.

Then, three days ago, the dreaded phone call happened. As usual, Rufus was broke and in trouble. Every once in a blue moon, he popped back into her life, and the moment was always followed by a disaster. Though this time, he had outdone even himself—getting kidnapped by a loan shark and giving his daughter up as collateral. Like she was his private bank or something.

She didn’t know the specifics of his deal gone awry, nor did she really care. All she knew was the guy who took Rufus’ phone from him scared the crap out of her. Irish Mick’s assignment had been simple: get him ten thousand dollars within forty-eight hours or her father would end up in some ditch. So was the hazardous life of a con artist, a man who lived by one rule only—get rich fast or die trying.

Tess couldn’t remember the number of times she almost ended up in a ditch, or behind bars, right beside Rufus. Actually, she had an eidetic memory, so shecouldremember every time—she just chose not to. She had actually taken computer courses back in the day just to learn how to digitally remove her juvenile rap sheet. Little had she known she would get addicted to said digital world, which was so much easier to live in than the real one. Numbers made sense; people, not so much.

Now, at twenty-seven, she found it easy to rule the universe from behind a computer screen. As a hacker, or an Elf lord, she could practically do and be anything she wanted. What she never did was bring the online world into her real life, though. That is, until her father dragged her back into the murkier waters of hacking for evil, once again.

So here she was, driving at night in one of San Francisco’s shady neighborhoods with a bag of money. Of course, that was when her old Beetle decided to die on her. Smoke started filling her windshield.

With a sigh, she got out and popped open the hood. She looked at the engine. The engine stared back at her. Nope, she wasn’t even going to pretend to know anything about a car’s mechanics. When it came to hardware, she might as well be a ninety-year-old holding a smartphone for the first time. Crap. It was almost ten o’clock and she still had two blocks to go to meet this Mick guy.

“Car trouble?”

She snapped her head around and spotted a guy leaning against the wall of the copy shop her car had died next to. With the way her life was going lately, the guy was probably a closet axe murderer.

Raised by her grandfather, who believed in the radical honesty principle, Tess found it hard to lie. Often, she just ignored a question or a person altogether. Most people got the hint.

“Want me to take a look at that?”

This one obviously didn’t.Sigh. “Nope, I’ve got this.”

Creepy eyes kept staring at her legs and started to make her feel uncomfortable. It was a hot summer night and she liked her cut-off jeans. Didn’t mean she liked to be ogled.

“Sure you don’t want me to take a look underneath the hood?”

Oh, she was so sure. “Positive.”

“Maybe I can give you a ride.”

An image of rope, duct tape, and a shovel popped into her mind.

She gave him her back and pondered what to do. The meeting point with Mick the Dick wasn’t far away. He had mentioned a certain fast food joint. She took her duffel bag out of the car and started walking.

“Hey! You feeling too good to talk to me?”

Actually, yes, I am.

Ignoring the guy yelling behind her, she picked up her pace. Then she heard feet following. Now, she really started running. If they would have been inherworld, she would have so kicked his ass. Unfortunately, the streets of San Fran, nor the characters roaming it, didn’t look anything likeWorld of Warcraft. She didn’t carry a sword to defend herself against an enemy, and certainly no health potion to bring her back to life if that creep got to her. Aside from the occasional hobo, there was no one there. No one to alert the police if she got robbed, mugged, or killed. She was so going to kick Rufus’ ass for this.

The bright green neon sign with the clover across the street was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She had just run in front of another car when something caught her ponytail.

She turned around, ready to fend off her attacker, when he pushed her against a garage door. The breath left her body, making her head spin. Her arms settled around the bag, not planning to give it up without a fight.

A hand wrapped around her throat, and she stared into dilated pupils, then traveled down to see rotten teeth.

“Great, you’re as high as a kite.” And he smelled like she imagined an orc would. Really bad.

“Now there, pretty purple cat, why you running away?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You look like a crazy junkie. Now, get away from me.”

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