Page 98 of Xantera
I throw up two fingers, mimicking Geo the best I can.
He laughs. “Do you even have two to bet with?”
Looking down at myself, I can count at least three articles of clothing, so he must mean something else. “What are you betting with?” I ask.
All of them chuckle before Claudia whispers ominously, “Secrets. It’s not like out there in the city, where we’re not allowed to keep them. In here, secrets are our gold.”
“Oh.” As I check my cards, it takes a minute to register. I smile wide, arching an eyebrow. “I think I like poker already. And yes, I have two.”
Around the circle, everyone watches me closely, and everyone, except Victor, who folds, matches the two-secret bet.
“Then I’ll burn one,” Tristan says.
I raise my eyebrows in fascination, waiting for him to physically light something on fire, but Tristan only takes one card off the top of the deck and places it off to the side.
Weirdly, disappointment flutters through me. A real fire would have been more interesting.
“Then the flop,” Victor adds.
Tristan turns three cards over in the middle of the table. The first is an eight with what looks like a bunch of clovers, and the other two have faces on them.
“Eight of clubs,” Tristan says for my benefit, I’m sure, “Jack of hearts, and Queen of hearts.”
I check my cards against the three ‘community’ cards. I have a two with diamonds and a four with what looks like a pointy clover. I’m fairly certain these are shit cards when I recall the best combinations that Tristan told me, but I don’t care.
Hard to care about anything when we’re just playing silly little games in our graves.
They all look to Claudia, who takes her time calling before we all do the same. They sure must value their secrets here. Maybe because they’re the only thing we truly own.
It all repeats again when Tristan places the “turn,” a nine of spades—as I’m told the pointy clover is called. But when he places the “river,” a three of hearts, down, I catch Claudia’s almost imperceptible tilt of her lip, a tell that she has something good.
When she raises her bet with another secret, I fold with a shrug. I already owe the winner two secrets, and if I want to keep playing, I need to ration them wisely.
Everyone else folds as well, but Tristan raises her another secret.
“You’re bluffing,” he teases Claudia, then winks at me.
To my shock, that wink ignites me where it shouldn’t, and I clamp my thighs together, trying to douse the heat creeping up my belly.
“Maybeyou’rebluffing,” I say playfully, nudging his arm.
A rough vibration replaces the heat, confusing me more as it rumbles like thunder between my legs. Why is this man turning me on? He’s an oaf.
I shift… until a low voice in my head makes me jolt in my seat.
What exactly are you doing, little nightmare?
Oh, she answers after her heartbeat slows and her head clears, realizing it was me—not fucking Tristan—making her ache between her legs.Look who decided to come back.
I’llalwayscome back, I stress.Preferably when you’re not flirting with other males.
Jealous?she goads me.
If you thought I wouldn’t care, then you haven’t been paying attention. Do I need to remind you whose name you moan?
She hesitates. But despite the desire flooding her senses, she doesn’t stand up and march straight back to her bedroom like I hoped. Instead, she simply observes the poker game playing around her with a stubborn little purse of her lips that I can feel more than see.
Maybe I need reminding more than once a week, she observes.
