Page 46 of Blood and Magic
By the time I was done, I looked hot. My headache had subsided enough that I figured it must have been allergies, so I grabbed a bottle of my father’s most expensive scotch and headed across the backyard. Sounds of a party in full swing echoed from the windows, and when I knocked on the door, I fully expected whoever answered to tell me to fuck off. But when Fenris opened it with a big grin, he stepped aside and nodded.
“Glad you could make it,” he said. “Is that Lagavulin?”
“Yep,” I said, glancing around the space. Bunks lined the walls, one in front of me and two in the corner to my right. A kitchen area was in between the entrance and more bunk space in the back, and I rounded the corner to a central hangout spot with a card table set up in the middle and two long couches on either side. A flatscreen sat on top of a console at the far end of the wall, currently playing an old black-and-white movie. The conversation stopped when I got close enough, all eyes shooting in my direction.
Vermillion turned his head, my skin burning as he gazed down my body and back up again.
“Hey, now,” Fenris said, pushing past me to take the empty seat next to Mill. “Y’all said you wouldn’t deal until I got back.”
The brunette opposite Vermillion raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, don’t just stand there. If that’s whiskey, get the shots going.”
“It’s scotch,” I said, stepping toward them. Seven other men lingered around, three at the table and four more on the couches.
“Yeah, you uncultured swine,” Fenris said, rubbing a hand over the brunette’s mop of dark hair. “That’s a sipping drink, not a shooting drink.”
“It was my father’s favorite.” I snorted. “He was such a dick, and now he’s dead. So I guess you can do whatever you want with it.”
Everyone fell silent for a second before Fenris burst into laughter, causing the others to crack up as well. All except Mill, who had gone back to looking at everyone and everything except me.
“This is Columba,” Fenris said, gesturing to the brunette.
“I’m Aquila,” said the other person at the card table, a big man with hair the same color as Columba. They looked like they could be brothers.
“Poe,” said the last person at the table. “I was at the cabin with your sister last winter.”
“Right.” Sol had said he was standoffish at first, but he became one of her favorite people. They were still close.
“This is Holden, Ricky, Travers, and Smalls.” Fenris pointed to the guys sitting on the couches, who gave me a wave or a small salute.
I looked at the cards on the table. “What are we playing?”
“Hold’em,” Poe said. “Twenty-dollar buy-in.”
I loved poker. I remembered playing with my siblings during long summers, stuck here on the ranch. Being smack dab in the middle of the lineup meant I’d gotten good at swindling my siblings on either side out of their money.
“Can I play?” I walked to the table, grabbed an empty chair from the side, and pulled up next to Mill.
“Our table’s full,” he grumbled.
“Nonsense.” Completely ignoring him, I reached into my pocket, grabbed a random bundle of cash, and plopped it down in the middle of the table. “Twenty dollars. Deal me in.”
“Woo!” Fenris laughed and clapped Vermillion on the shoulder. “I like your style, Vanderbilt.”
Smiling as I sat, I pretended the rush of being so close to the man who’d worked me up last night didn’t affect me. His masculine scent hit me in the face, and it meant nothing. The warmth radiating off his body coiled around me, yanking me closer, and that, too, meant nothing. This preternatural pull in my gut, tugging me to him, was just a game. A farce.
He didn’t want me.
Hell, more than that, I repulsed him, and there was proof. The minute I sat down and grabbed the tiny red cups to pour each of us a scotch, Vermillion scooted away from me. When I handed one to him, he grabbed it by the rim and set it on the table in front of him. And when I held mine up to say cheers and thanks for letting me crash their guys’ night, he barely touched mine before downing his entire drink and getting back to the game.
“Aquila,” Mill said. “Deal the cards.”
The younger man did as commanded, and I sipped my scotch, delighting in the burn that echoed down my throat and into my stomach. I hadn’t eaten much today, so it hit me much harder than I thought. But I could see why my father liked it so much. This was as smooth as honey compared to the swill coming out of Kentucky.
Two cards landed in front of me, and I glanced at them, trying not to let my expression show how dismal I thought my odds were.
“So Vanderbilt,” Columba said. “What brings you down to the trenches?”
I shrugged. “Fenris invited me.”
