The attendant opened a door for him. “The Green Room, sir.”
Several men were already seated at the card table. The lack of women only highlighted the misogyny that permeated this social structure. All the men were white, middle-aged, and, Antoine suspected, Protestant—though the latter seemed to matter less and less with each passing decade.
The mayor rose as Antoine entered, extending his hand. “Anthony! Glad you could make it.”
“Good evening, Bill.” Antoine shook the offered hand, his eyes scanning the table. Five other men sat there, one of whom was Gabriel. He recognized two others—leaders in industry and academia, the latter a member more for old money than academic distinction.
“Quick introductions?” Bill asked, with the easy charisma of a man amid his own peers. He gestured to the closest man.
Antoine only half-listened to the names being shared, acknowledging each man in turn. None of them rose to greet him; the game was in full swing, stacks of chips and cards before each player.
“And Gabe Wells, who I believe you already know.”
Antoine nodded. Gabriel’s response was as formally cool as his own. Neither vampire would give anything away in front of chattel, regardless of their status. It wouldn’t do to acknowledge any sort of friendship—if there was one. Antoine wasn’t sure there was.
Gabriel’s chip stack was already noticeably larger than the others’, and the game had barely begun. An empty seat waited to the right of the mayor, a modest stack of chips before it. That would put Antoine as far from Gabriel as was possible—which was still too close for comfort. But whether Gabriel could sense the shift in Antoine’s power, he couldn’t say. Either Gabriel would notice, or he wouldn’t.
He took a seat as Bill did the same, waiting for the current hand to finish and the next to be dealt.
“I’m glad you were able to make it, Anthony,” Bill teased once the hand had concluded. “Quite the excitement yesterday, I hear.”
Antoine folded back the corner of the two cards he’d been dealt, then pushed them dismissively towards the dealer. “Just helping out where I can.”
“Ah, Mr. Du Pont is being humble.” Bill peered at his own cards beforecalling the blind. “He was busy aiding our Police Commissioner with enquiries, and I’m dying to hear the story.”
Antoine kept his eyes on the green baize of the poker table, though he noticed Gabriel’s sharp glance at him. Bill had just effectively placed Antoine in Gabriel’s territory, and he hadn’t alerted the other vampire.Whoops, should’ve seen that coming.
“Oh there’s not much to tell,” Antoine said. Another player called, and the rest folded around to Gabriel on the big blind, who checked.
“Three players,” said the dealer discreetly, and dealt the flop.
“I found myself witness to a crime last night, and as I happened by the police headquarters, I thought I’d drop in and provide a statement.” He looked up at Gabriel. “It was rather last minute, and I wasn’t there long.”
Gabriel nodded subtly, accepting the excuse and apology, and pushed out a small stack of chips.
“Oh come now, you’re not getting off so easily,” Bill said, raising in turn. “Gerry—that’s our Police Commissioner, by the way, as some of you will know—Gerry told me there was a pretty girl involved. Surely there’s a story when one of the city’s most eligible bachelors drops in to convince the police of her innocence.”
The player to Bill’s left folded, and Gabriel called. “Is that what you did, Mr. Du Pont?”
“Call me Anthony,” Antoine said. “I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“Two players,” the dealer said, laying down the turn.
Gabriel checked to the mayor. “How noble of you, Anthony, caring so much for the common folk.” His tone was mild, but Antoine could hear the real message: a subtle jab at his compassion for someone seen as little more than chattel, and an unspoken question of why he’d bothered. At the same time, Gabriel was highlighting Antoine’s gallantry before an audience who would never stop to help the lower classes. A deft move to isolate him.
“Like I said, I was merely passing.”
“I hate it when Gabe does this raise-check thing from the big blind,” Bill commented lightly, checking in turn. “I never know how to act.” It was a polite attempt to break the tension.
The river hit the board, and Gabriel barely glanced at it. “I’m sure she wasenthralledby you,” he drawled, the emphasis slight. He pushed a stack of chips forward, betting the pot.
“I assure you she was not,” Antoine replied mildly. Gabriel nodded, satisfied. It wouldn’t do for Antoine to have a thrall in another’s territorywithout due notice—something Minh knew all too well. But Minh had been seeking conflict, while Antoine was keen to avoid it.
Bill folded with a resigned grunt, and Gabriel collected the pot, adding further to his lead.
The next hand was dealt in silence. Antoine hadn’t been there long enough to gauge whether the men played quietly or if they’d sensed the tension between Gabriel and him. He peeled back the corners of the two cards before him—an ace and a king.
“Raise,” he said, tripling the big blind.